#bishop has eyebrows and I’m not letting this go

[corpscs]

emergency contact ‎⚕️paramedic!yelena x f!reader

♡ no use of y/n , reader has undisclosed medical condition , er nurse!kate bishop , yelena out bitching you again , reader lwk being a pushover , yelena follows carabiner code , russian is from google/reddit , images are from pinterest , divider

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ masterlist , word count 1.13k

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2 ♡ part 3

bones’ now playing ▶︎ emergency contact - corook

“sir, i already told you,” the nurse said with a tight lipped smile. before she could continue, the doors on the opposite side of the hallway pushed open.

“kate bishop!” yelena boasted to her friend with a grin. kate jerked her head to the side silently thanking the universe as yelena blindly approached the situation.

“and i already told you.” the man parroted, still trying to get his way like a child.

kate didn’t let him finish, “patient advocate offices are on the third floor-“ the brunette nurse’ ponytail was askew and she looked like she was thirty seconds from a breakdown. or thirty seconds from taking this guy’s cane and sending him back into the ER for a whole different reason.

“i was never there! i was in the ER!” his nearly unintelligible voice boomed through the hallway.

“yes, i know that. but you need to go see-“ he cut her off continuing to yell about whatever.

“sir, she cannot help you here.” yelena waved her hand at the man dismissively. “she is a nurse.”

“this hospital-“ the blonde cut him off this time.

“this hospital pays her to be a nurse, not a patient advocate, which is who i think you should to be looking for to yell at.”

“well, my insurance-“

“has nothing to do with this nurse.” yelena finished his sentence for him as she stepped in front of kate. “but it does have to do with the patient advocate who is on the third floor.” she pointed to the directory posted by the elevator doors.

the man grumbled and bitched loudly as he hobbled to the elevator.

“you’re amazing sometimes.” kate looked down at her friend with a wide stare.

yelena feigned deep thought. “hm no, i think you mean all of the time.” yelena shrugged with a smug grin. she paused surveying the hall as she began to follow kate back to the er. “i wanted to ask you something.”

“oh, no..” kate stepped behind the nurses station, able to continue doing her job now that the man was taken care of.

“oh c’mon, it is nothing bad!” the blonde reassured.

“okay then, shoot.”

“the pretty fall risk we brought in a few hours ago?”

kate barked out a laugh. “you came all the way back over just here to ask me to break HIPPA because you think a patient is pretty?”

“do not get your scrubs all in a twist. nobody said anything about breaking the law. i was just wondering if she has been discharged yet?” kate raised an eyebrow.

shaking her head while her eyes scanned the screen, “you guys made a good call with that one.” kate said.

that caught yelena’s attention. “she is okay, right?” kate raised an eyebrow before laughing.

“yes,” she confirmed with slow nod. “but, apparently she did not want to mention it was her second fall the day.”

“she lied to me!” yelena gasped loudly cursing in russian. “i asked her if she has had any recent falls!” kate chuckled, giving the girl a glare at her outburst. yelena dropped her voice to a lower volume. “now this is a matter of principle.”

“well, just a thought that i’m totally just voicing out loud, i do not think the patient you are looking for is in the er.” kate stated looking down at the printed papers in the binder. yelena grinned reading the x-ray order.

“thank you, kate.” yelena called back, already halfway down the hall.

ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ

“hello again.” the familiar russian voice startled you when you stepped out of radiology. yelena, the pretty emt, stood in front of you leaning against the wall. she had her phone in hand mid scroll while wearing a smile.

after a momentary stall, your brain attempted to put together a greeting while stumbling over your words. eventually just pushing out a simple, “hi.”

“you,” she pointed at you with the phone in her hand. “are a dirty liar.”

“what?”

“моя милая, i have friends in this hospital.” yelena lilted starting in her mother tongue. of course, you had no idea what the words she just spoke meant, but something in your brain seemed to fry completely. you deduced what lie she is probably referring to. you just really didn’t want to make a big deal about the situation, clearly she would understand that, right? she sees this every day.

you opened your mouth to explain yourself, but she didn’t let you. “are you going to give me more than one word this time?” she tilted her head slightly. your mouth closed, suddenly vacant of all moisture and unable to swallow.

“yes,” you squeaked. “i mean, no.” yelena raised her eyebrows slightly. “i mean; no, i have sentences.” your words died off into a nervous chuckle.

“you are so cute.” she laughed, “i was starting to think your doctor missed a brain injury.” you shook your head cautious of the headache that ebbed though the pain killers given to you. “or do i make you nervous?”

yelena had no trouble controlling the conversation just like she had before. only this time you weren’t dazed and she was still out bitching you. with your remaining confidence you tilted your head with a small smile and decided to change the subject. “did you come all the way back here just to see me?”

if yelena was surprised by your question she didn’t show it. she didn’t even spare you the luxury of answering the question, but asked one of her own instead. “and what would you think if i did?”

“audacious, maybe?” you joked back. “i could have a boyfriend.” you suggested and yelena laughed again.

“that was good, but your keychains are suggesting otherwise.” yelena’s eyes wandered specifically to the heart shaped carabiner that held your keys and airtag, alongside a very obvious orange-pink braided rectangle design. it dangled beside a few other various charms and pins on the bag.

you eyed the black carabiner on yelena’s left belt loop. “touche.”

yelena flipped her phone to hold it out to you, new contact page pulled up on the small screen.

“i’ll make you another deal, no trick this time. and you can tell me all about your boyfriend.” she suggested wearing that same grin when she got you into her ambulance. “who is probably just your cat, or something.”

mouth slightly parted in shock, you took the cell phone from her hand and entered in your number.

“do you act this way with every girl pick up off of the subway?” you asked handing back her phone as it began to buzz with an onslaught of incoming texts, all which yelena ignored. while reaching for the device she held onto your hand for a moment.

“only the pretty ones who lie directly to my face.”

“look, i’m sorry about that.” you murmured with a soft smile.

“are you really?” yelena asked. you nodded “lying to a medical professional is very reckless. so my deal for you is,” the device clipped her radio strap interrupted her with a crackled with a grainy voice. low volume and almost fully inaudible to you. “you can make it up to me is by agreeing to dinner.”

“like a date?”

“yes, like a date.”

ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ

part 3

part 1 was well received so im letting my brain parasites run free. there will be a part 3 and i have two more yelena fics in progress,, also open to requests ? idk

𓉸 ♡ , bones

[chelseacult]

False Hope

Niamh Charles x Reader

Summary: Off at an away game, you and Niamh ditch the team dinner for a night in at your hotel.

Word Count: 1.8k

The thickening tension in your joint hotel room could be cut with a knife. The look of concentration on Niamh’s face as she eyes down the chessboard considering her next move intimidates you. You struggle to predict where she’s planning on placing the knight that her fingers rest on. She picks it up, and that’s when you see her game plan. She’s got you hook, line, and sinker with one move. You’re about to lose.

You let out a defeated sigh upon realizing that she’s going to beat you again. At the noise, she glances up at you. She hesitates for a second before reversing her path and placing the piece back where it was. Her hand leaves the knight, switching over to her last standing bishop, and she slides it down the board. 

“Your turn,” she urges as she leans back in her chair, looking up at you with an encouraging smile. 

You look down at the board, noticing that her move has left her king vulnerable. You look back at her, shooting her an unimpressed look. “Babe, come on.”

“What?” she asks with a slight tilt of her head.

“There’s literally no way you missed that,” you gesture to the chessboard. 

“Missed what?” she pretends to be confused, leaning forward to inspect the board. You reach forward, moving one of your pieces and capturing her king, signaling your win.

“You won!” Niamh gasps, theatrical enough to let you know she’s not actually surprised. The way she’s smiling at you is usually enough to make you melt, but you’re more focused on the fact that she just let you win.

“I know you saw that! Stop letting me win,” you say exasperatedly, your voice laced with more annoyance than you’re really feeling. 

“I’m not! You’re getting better! I’m so proud of you,” she says excitedly. She abruptly rises from her seat and rushes over to you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The angle’s a little awkward with you still sitting, but the warmth of her lips against your temple and the soft whisper of “good job, baby” against your skin distracts you from the straining of your neck.

The minuscule amount of annoyance you’re still feeling dissipates when you see the look on her face as she pulls back. She’s the most competitive person you know, but she looks over the moon at your win.

“Rematch?” she asks, sliding back into her seat. You nod.

The two of you get back into action, tension once again rising as you take turns stealing each other’s pieces and attempting to keep the other on their toes. As it always starts, Niamh is outplaying you, and you’d bet money that your loss is impending. As you’re waiting for the inevitable checkmate, she switches up her attack. Almost identical to her ploy earlier, Niamh moves her pawn forward, freeing up a direct path for you to capture her king for the second time tonight. 

“Really?” you exasperrate, staring at the board in disbelief. 

She brushes off your complaint with a smirk. “You should think about going pro. Beating the team’s resident chess champ isn’t a simple feat, you know.”

“I’ve never seen you make a move that stupid.” You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you stare her down.

“Honest mistake, love. I’m off my game today,” she chuckles, giving a slight shrug.

“I see right through you.” Despite your words, you mirror the smile on her face. 

“If you don’t want to admit you’ve beaten me fair and square, we can call it a draw.” Her gaze flickers to the board momentarily, then back to you, amusement present in her eyes. “I’d savor the moment if I were you, though. Probably won’t happen again,” she adds with a smirk.

You scoff. “You’re taking your supposed losses too well. If you really want to sell it, you need to act more upset.”

“I could start crying if you want,” she jokes, the knowing glint in her eyes still present. 

“I mean, yeah, that’d be in character for you.”

She laughs. Your laughter follows.

“But, seriously. The pawn out of all pieces to-” you start, but she raises a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Don’t ruin this for yourself. Enjoy the win,” she urges.

“Round three, then? Maybe we can get you on a winning streak,” she asks, pointedly ignoring the glare you shoot in her direction. The underlying message in her words is clear: I’m going to keep letting you win.

“A pity win streak, thank you so much,” you deadpan, unable to stop the hint of a smile threatening to break through. She must notice your failed attempt to keep your smile at bay because her grin widens the longer she looks at you. 

A rush of feelings hits you then, and you’re overcome with love for the woman seated across from you. She just let you win again, and she’s happy about it. It’s almost subconscious when you stand and walk over to where she’s sitting. Her smirk softens as you lean down, and she tilts her head to meet you. Your lips meet hers, pressing a brief kiss against them. 

“I love you. Even when you lie to me,” you whisper, feeling her smiling against your lips.

“I love you too,” she whispers back. 

You turn to walk back to your chair, but she grasps your wrist and tugs you back in. Her hands reach either side of your face, warm as she pulls you down to her level. She presses a series of sloppy kisses against your lips, and the laugh you muffle between the kisses causes her smile to widen.

She watches as you retake your seat, her face a bit redder than before. It’d be impossible to miss the adoration in her eyes. You’re positive that both her growing blush and look of adoration are reflected on your own face.

The two of you begin resetting the board, preparing it for another round. The silence is comfortable as you put the pieces back in their respective positions. 

“I don’t let just anyone beat me, by the way,” Niamh eventually states.

Your attention shifts back to her, noting the small smile on her face. “Oh, you’re admitting it already?”

The smile on her face shifts to a look of feigned confusion as she glances up at you. “Admitting what?”

“I give up,” you huff.

“Good. Your start,” she smiles, nodding to the board and gently nudging your foot with hers.

As you go to move one of your pieces, there’s a loud series of knocks at the door, causing you both to flinch. 

“Room service!” Niamh shouts. 

You send a confused look her way. “You ordered room service?”

“Nah, joking. I don’t know who it is,” she laughs. You let out a sound that mixes a scoff and a laugh as you stand up and head to the door. You’ve barely undone the lock before Sam comes barreling into the room. 

“What are you guys doing? Come on, team dinner! We’re all going,” she yells. You and Niamh let out matching groans at the reminder of the event you were both hoping to avoid. 

“How’d you know our room number? Creep,” you ask with a teasing lilt.

“I have my ways.” Sam stops in her tracks as she notes the chessboard on the table. “You guys are seriously hiding away to play chess? Nerds.”

“Rude!” Niamh utters under her breath. Sam waves a dismissive hand in her direction. “Who won though?” she asks.

Niamh gestures in your direction, and her proud smile almost makes you believe her false narrative of your success.

“What? No way. She let you win?” Sam shifts her attention to you.

“Ye-” you start.

“No! She just has a good teacher. Best on the team, I reckon,” Niamh says smugly, subtly winking in your direction.

Shifting her attention back to Niamh, Sam gives her a skeptical look. You turn to Niamh and mirror the look on Sam’s face.

“Don’t gang up on me!” Niamh exclaims.

“Niamh, you hate losing,” Sam says pointedly. 

“It’s not preferred, but I don’t hate it,” she argues.

Sam raises one eyebrow. “Yes, you do,” she counters.

Niamh sighs, then shrugs. “She just gets really happy when she wins,” Niamh admits almost sheepishly, making an effort to avoid eye contact with you.

Sam’s exaggerated fake gagging cuts off the teasing remark on the tip of your tongue. 

“Stop, I’m disgusted. And we need to go! Niamh, get up,” Sam gestures for Niamh to get out of her chair, prompting another groan to leave her lips. You shuffle over to her, holding out a hand to help pull her from the chair. 

“You’re also late, if you failed to notice,” Niamh remarks to Sam as she takes your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze as she stands.  

Sam shrugs. “I have an excuse. You guys are here being losers.”

“You’d die if you saw the puzzles we brought,” you laugh, the laughter of the other two following shortly after. 

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. And don’t get me started on how you bribed Sonia to assign you guys the same room.”

“We’ll give you some tips!” Niamh playfully remarks as Sam walks back to the door.

“Lobby. Five minutes,” Sam says sternly, pointing back and forth between the two of you. “If you’re not there, I’ll come back up and drag you both out of the room.” She exits before either of you can respond.

You turn to Niamh with a smug grin on your face. If the bashful look on her face tells you anything, she knows exactly what you’re about to say.

“You admitted it.” You punctuate your statement with a gentle tug of her hand, urging her to meet your gaze. She obliges, her fingers momentarily tightening around yours as she sighs and turns toward you.

“Alright,” she drawls. “I let you win. I thought you’d let it go by now.”

“You know better than that.”

She huffs out a laugh. “I know. Ever the persistent one, aren’t you?” she teases, leaning forehead to kiss your forehead. The warmth of her lips on your skin spreads like wildfire through you.

“Come on,” she mumbles against you before pulling away. “Sam will kill us if we make her wait any longer.”

“Fine,” you relent, extending a hand towards her. “But we’re having a rematch when we get back. And you’re not going easy on me this time.” 

“Deal,” she agrees, smiling as she firmly shakes your hand. 

Her grip lingers a little longer than necessary. As she lets go, you catch a flash of something unreadable in her eyes. It’s enough to have you wondering if she intends to keep her word. When she leans in to kiss you one last time before you exit the room, you realize it doesn’t really matter. 

a/n: this idea popped into my head while I was watching an old lionesses YT vid where chess was brought up. sorry if the chess lingo is confusing, hope you enjoyed!

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 8)

pairing: kate bishop x fem! reader - masturbation

summary: you find it impossible to hide just how much kate affects you in a black suit

warnings: teasing, masturbation, reader getting caught

wordcount: 1.2k

an: what can i say? im a sucker for women in suits.

Kate glances up from her phone, waiting for the elevator, her fingers tapping impatiently against the sleek glass screen. She’s in a black suit, expertly tailored to fit every angle and line of her frame, with a crisp white shirt peeking out from beneath a black tie. The image of her standing there, focused and effortlessly powerful, hits you like a train. You blink, trying to process the pure presence she commands, looking every bit the CEO in charge of Bishop Security.

“Hey, you okay?” Kate’s voice is light, but there’s a glint in her eyes as she takes you in, noticing the way your gaze has frozen on her. She lets her mouth curl into a small, knowing smile, which only makes the effect more dangerous. “See something you like?”

You feel your face heat up, stumbling over your words as she saunters over, her confidence radiating from each precise step.

“You, uh… I didn’t realize you’d be… dressing up,” you manage, not quite able to find a safe spot for your eyes.

“Oh, this old thing?” she teases. Her eyes stay locked on yours, though, watching with satisfaction as you fumble with your composure. “Just a little something to help seal the deal. I mean, the deal isn’t technically with you, but I’m glad to know I’ve got a captive audience.”

“Kate…” you stammer, “you look—”

“Unbelievably handsome?” she offers, arching an eyebrow, leaning close enough that her cologne, a smooth, warm scent, wraps around you. She studies you, letting the silence stretch just enough to make your heart race before she chuckles. “I know.”

The elevator dings behind her, and she spares it a glance but makes no move to leave, clearly savoring your flustered state. She leans in a little closer, her hand lifting to straighten her tie as she whispers, “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone. I promise I’ll be back to make it up to you.”

Before you can respond, she winks, letting her fingers trail lightly over your arm as she steps back. The elevator doors open, and she shoots you one last smirk as she steps inside.

You attempt to go back to the book you’d left on the coffee table, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh. This activity is usually calming, grounding—but today, every few sentences blur together, Kate's smirk slipping into the words, the memory of her suit and tie replacing any character in the story.

You try to shake it off, flipping a few more pages in a desperate attempt to focus. But your mind keeps drifting back to Kate in that damn suit, the way her confidence and charm seemed to make every line of fabric a little sharper, more intoxicating. The image of her adjusting her tie lingers vividly, and you can practically feel the warmth of her gaze from earlier, the smirk she had when she’d noticed your reaction.

Sighing, you close the book and set it aside. There’s no use pretending. She’s left you with an ache... a huge one that keeps bringing her back into your thoughts. You could practically feel her presence here with you, like the faint hint of her cologne still in the air, lingering just to remind you of what you’re missing.

You can still hear her words, every casual “See something you like?” and “Try not to miss me too much.” A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the glint in her eyes, how she seemed to take absolute pleasure in watching you unravel.

With another sigh, you reach for your phone, typing out a quick message.

You left a mess of my concentration, Bishop.

The text sends, and for a few minutes, you wonder if she’s too caught up in business to respond. But then your phone vibrates, and her reply lights up the screen.

Good. That’s exactly where I want to be, right in the middle of your thoughts.

Your heart skips, and there’s no mistaking the smirk that spreads across your face as you read it, a perfect echo of hers from earlier.

Be good, I´ll be home soon. xx

Your phone buzzes once again as Kate adds to her message. There’s a gentle rush of heat creeping up your cheeks, a fuzzy warmth pooling between your thighs. Be good. The words echo, soft and teasing, and you find yourself replaying them over and over.

It’s ridiculous, really, how much effect one message has on you. But that’s Kate - she’s somehow wrapped herself around your every thought without even trying. Now, every tick of the clock feels heavier, reminding you of how much you’re waiting for her to come back, and how much you want to be under her right now.

You lie back, letting your hands go just where you need them the most. Hoping she will be back soon, but you can´t wait, she made you this desperate... so if anything, it´s her fault.

As your fingers dips into your wet core, you chuckle a bit. If Kate was here, she would be making fun of you, because as always, you´re just so easy to turn on.

Your clit is already swollen and you just need more.

Did a few words on your phone and a suit made you this wet?

You can hear Kate´s voice in your head, which makes you go even crazier. You really need her to come as soon as possible, another thing you have in common. Oh how she looked in that god damn suit, fitting just perfectly on her. And then there were her hands, strong, veined, and dotted with a few silver rings that makes you go wild. Those hands... you need her hands. Yours are not enough.

Fuck.

Playing with your clit feels like you are not touching yourself at all. Why does her touch feels so amazing, but yours doesn´t? You push three fingers inside of yourself, bucking up your hips to cross your finish line. Desperate. Another words you can hear clearly in your head.

Yes, you are desperate. For her. All the time. But can anyone blame you?

Just as you sink into the intensity of the moment, you hear a low, unmistakable throat clearing. Your heart stutters, and there she is, leaning in the doorway with her signature smirk, her hands casually tucked in her pockets, and a glint of amusement in her eyes.

"Well, well," she drawls, her gaze taking you in shamelessly, "I should have business meetings more often if this is the sight I'm gonna come home to every time." Her eyes darken, a teasing edge to her smirk as she steps closer.

“I- I…uh, sorry. I just…you just looked very… good. And um... I couldn´t really help myself.” Your voice falters, face flushed as her grin only grows wider.

"Thank you, darling," she murmurs, her tone low and smooth, "but don’t let me interrupt. Go on…” Her gaze drops over you, clearly enjoying every bit of the effect she’s having. “Seems like you were in the middle of something important."

The playful lift in her brow and the way her lips quirk in that smug grin make it impossible to tear your gaze away. You know she’s loving this, savoring every second of your flustered expression. And she’s not going to let you off easy... not now, not with the way she’s eyeing you like you’re a piece of meat she’s ready to get her hands on.

Thank you for reading once again!:P

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Be Mine - Chapter 4

Summary: A rather normal day is thrown off by bad news. Comfort and relaxation come from not one, but two, redheads.

Warnings: Minor Language, Sexual Themes, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Shooting

Series Masterlist

* * * * * * *

‘When can I see you again?’

‘You just saw me this morning.’

‘That wasn’t enough.’

‘You saw me last night too.’

‘And the night before that.’

‘And the one before that.’

A little laugh escapes you at Natasha’s texts. She’s right, you two have been seeing each other pretty nonstop all week, but you still miss her. Especially given the way things have been lately.

After your successful first date you became, for lack of a better word, attached. You couldn’t get enough of Natasha, you needed her in every way she was willing to be yours. The emotional connection between you two has only gotten stronger, your chemistry completely undeniable. Plus, since you hadn’t had sex since that night, the tension was palpable. A few moments had come up where things got heated and almost got there but interruptions always came up, leaving you and Natasha beyond frustrated.

This relationship is more than just sex, obviously, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t craving Natasha in that way again. You were craving her in general: her hand in yours, the sight of those insanely gorgeous green eyes, the weight of her on your lap, the low sound of her laugh, her ramblings about spy movies and songs she discovered, all of her.

“Miss Y/ln!”

The sound of your assistant shouting your name pulls you from your thoughts and your gaze snaps up away from your phone. The young brunette stands at your door, manilla folders stacked in her arms as she looks at you.

Chuckling lowly, you wave her in.“ Apologies, Miss Bishop, my mind was elsewhere.”

“Everything okay?” Her brows pinch together in worry as she steps further into the office.

You nod.“ Yes, everything’s perfect actually. I was just daydreaming a bit, kind of like you do from time to time.”

Kate scoffs in faux confusion, a chuckle following.“ Wh- I- no. I don’t daydream at work, that would be a waste of company time.” She lifts her eyebrows a bit, smirking at you like she knows she said the right thing.

“Right, of course.” The look on your face lets her know you don’t buy it one bit.“ Because there isn’t a certain blonde who runs through your mind like a marathon?” Her jaw drops, her hold on the folders slacking which makes you laugh.“ Don’t act shocked, if it weren’t for me, you and Yelena wouldn’t have met.”

With a wink her way, you grab the folders and begin flipping through them, quickly recognizing them as documents you have to sign in order to finalize some business deals and financial changes.

It takes Kate another second to find something to say and, to your surprise, it’s not a rebuttal to your words.“ Right well, I also came in here to let you know Steve is here.”

“Oh? And he didn’t just come waltzing in?”

“Well I assumed you were actually working,” the blonde man comes in then, blue eyes on you like he knows something,“ turns out you’re just dreaming about Natasha.”

Kate’s eyes widen in intrigue.“ Who’s Natasha?” She smirks like she’s about to get good gossip.

“No one,” you respond in the same instance that Steve teasingly says,“ her girlfriend.”

You give him an incredulous look and he smirks, all while Kate’s face lights up.

“You have a girlfriend?” Excitement laces her tone and you groan lowly.“ Oh my god, this is so cool. We could so go on a doub-”

“No.” You don’t even allow the thought to continue. Her mouth snaps shut at the look you give her.“ One: I’m seeing her, but she’s not my girlfriend. Two: you’re my employee, my mentee at best, so double dates are far out of the picture. And three: you shouldn’t spread rumors, especially not about your boss.” The last part is directed to Steve who unseriously raises his hands in surrender.

It’s from that moment that you dismiss Kate and return to your work or rather, you actually start working. You’d spent a little too long thinking of and texting Natasha.

It turns out Steve didn’t come just to tease you, he also brought coffee which is all you're grateful for at this point because the teasing starts back up.

Halfway through your coffee, and after you’ve finished signing all those documents, he pipes up.

“So, she may not be your girlfriend but things are pretty obviously going well with you two. If all the dates and overnight stays weren't enough, your face usually says it all.”

Brows furrowing, you look up at him.“ What’re you talking about, Steven?”

“I’m talking about the near constant smile you’ve been sporting. You haven’t been this happy and excited about someone since college,” he says.

A teasing tone carries your response of,“ oh, you mean when I dated Sharon, only to discover that she was really just trying to get close to you?” The question makes the man across from you blushing furiously at the memory.

Back when it happened, both of you were beyond amused. In truth, you felt bad for Sharon even though you were the one who had been used. The girl had no clue about Steve’s sexuality. To this day, you remember the look on her face when Steve told her he’s gay.

You also remember her still trying to be with you after that as well. Safe to say neither you or Steve kept in touch with her.

“That’s not what I meant, I was actually referring to your thing with Carol.”

Now that… that was a good, and very fun, relationship.

It never progressed to anything serious, like exclusivity, but you both learned a lot from each other: emotionally and sexually. She also remained a really good and close friend of yours though you don’t see each other that often due to her working over in Brooklyn.

A fond smile forms on your face at the thought of the blonde.“ Yeah, being with Carol was fun.” “Yeah I know, I often heard.” His bored expression clues you in to what he means and you snort amusedly.“ Still, this seems a little different. Like it could be more than just fun.”

Nodding, you take a deep breath.“ It already is. I know this thing with Nat is new and we’ve both agreed to take things slow in a sense but,” another smile adorns your features,“ I can feel how real this is, ya know.”

Your best friend pulls a smile of his own.“ Yeah, actually I do know.”

Before you can respond to that your phone buzzes and you’re quick to grab it.

“Let me guess,” he smirks,“ it’s Natasha.”

As you read the message though, your face drops and Steve frowns in concern.

“We need to go. Now.”

* * * * * *

The instant you walk into the warehouse a hush falls over the people inside. Scared eyes watch your every step, take in the way your face projects controlled anger. Yeah, you’re pissed, as anyone would be after receiving the message you just did.

When your eyes land on the man who sent it, two measly crates at his feet and a familiar blonde standing beside him, your jaw clenches.

“Clint, what the hell happened?” You ask the second you’re within hearing distance.

The brunette man sighs, head dropping for a second.“ Like I said, the shipment was stolen.”

“If you said it already, you don’t need to repeat it. Obviously I’m looking for more than you already told me,” you grit out, annoyance flaring inside you.“ Who the hell took it? Who was in charge of escorting it and why didn’t they protect it?”

Yelena casts a glance around the warehouse, noting the fearful looks coming your way. She understands your anger but she also doesn’t think this is a conversation that should be had out in the open.

“Hey,” her hand gently grabs your elbow, directing your angered gaze to her,“ let’s take this into the office, yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and turn, heading towards Clint’s office. Steve, Clint, and Yelena follow after you, filing into the space and shutting the door behind them.

“What. Happened?” You ask again, your tone of voice making it clear that if you don’t get answers now, someone just might die.

“The shipment was ambushed. My guys picked it up, it was all routine, but they ran into trouble coming out of West Village.” Clint sits in his office chair as he explains what happened, Yelena and Steve propping themselves against walls.“ The crew that hit them was quite big and seemed to know what they were doing, all we managed to hold onto were the two crates.”

Sucking your teeth, you lean back in the chair, sighing heavily.“ Was there anything we could use to ID these guys?”

“I’m looking into it. My guys are being questioned, we’re lifting prints off the trucks, tracking down the serial numbers on the bullets-”

“Bullets? There were shots fired?” You get upset all over again, that part of the incident wasn’t included in the text.

Clint nods.“ One of my guys got hit but he’ll live, nothing that some pain meds and stitches won’t fix.”

“Are the police involved yet?”

“Not yet but, gunfire in the middle of the day? I’m sure someone called it in.” It’s Yelena who answers that.

Your mind is reeling, a million thoughts circling all at once. Starting with who could’ve done this. There’s been relative peace for the past few years. Treaties that were brokered by your father are still in place and, given the way you and the other families have been coexisting and handling your business with zero interference from each other, you don’t see why anyone would make this move.

Everything about it screams desperation and recklessness, all things that the Guardians and Odinsons are not. Plus, the location in which they were hit is so far from the others’ territories. Hitting you in West Village would mean driving all the way back through Manhattan just to get to Queens or Brooklyn, they would run the risk of being caught by you before they got away with the stolen shipment. Which leaves you with one theory.

“Hydra.”

All eyes snap to you as the word leaves your lips. No one is surprised, not at all actually, but their looks are similar to yours. You all know what it means if Hydra is making moves like this.

Yelena breathes shakily.“ Dreykov wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“He usually isn’t, but if he’s stealing weapons and doing it in broad daylight?”

Clint completes your thoughts,“ he’s desperate.”

“Or maybe someone’s making moves without his orders,” Steve adds.“ Rumlow is his second and he’s always been pretty audacious. Could be him.”

You sit up, eyes glued to the desk as you keep thinking.“ Maybe. Whether it’s him or Dreykov, or someone else, still doesn’t clear everything up. There’s still the question of: how did they know where to hit and when?”

“I don’t know. I rotate the drop locations and pickup times at random,” Clint tells you,“ and I don’t tell my men unless they’re a part of the transport.”

His words cause a loaded silence, looks exchanged between all of you.

“Which of your men ratted us out, Barton?” Yelena asks, accent thicker and lower due to frustration.

The man’s brows furrow, jaw clenching.“ You think one of my men told Hydra where to hit us?”

“If you only tell certain people and the transport schedule is randomized, it could only come from someone who knew when and where to be,” you shift your gaze to him.“ Time you turn that questioning into interrogating. If there’s a rat, I want em found. I don’t care how you do it, just call me when you get it done.”

You rise, making for the door now that things are in motion.“ Oh,” you stop, looking back at Clint,“ work with Yelena to double your details, we can’t afford to take losses like that and we certainly can’t let anyone think we’re vulnerable now.”

Before you can fully leave, Yelena calls your name. When you look at her, hazel eyes looking shiny from what you know to be unshed tears, your heart clenches.

You know Yelena’s past with Dreykov, her involuntary involvement in his business. When Melina brought her around, you saw the damage that had been done, you helped her repair that damage. Now, after having earned her trust and having become one of the people she considers family, you’d never let Dreykov get his hands on her again, or anyone you care for.

“Whatever he’s doing, I’m gonna stop it.” Your voice holds a determination she’s all too familiar with, one that lets her know you won’t stop until the job is done. Crossing the space to her, you gently cup the back of her neck with your hand and she closes the gap to rest her forehead against yours, the moment connecting you.“ I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”

The blonde takes a slow breath, inhaling and exhaling, then she nods.

Parting, you squeeze her shoulder gently before giving Clint a look.“ Get to work. I want to be updated the second you know something.”

“Gotcha boss.”

* * * * * *

The bass of the music thrums through you, almost beating in time with your heart as your eyes catch on the woman on stage.

Red hair cascades down as she hooks a smooth leg over the pole, back arching as one hand holds the pole and the other slides down her chest. Hoots and hollers sound from the men crowding the stage and scattered around in chairs, your eye twitching when she gets close enough to the edge for one to slip money into the waistband of her underwear.

You’re not jealous. . . it’s a lie you try and tell yourself. It’s a lie you’ve been trying to make true.

It wasn’t until three days after your second date, which happened to be a mere two days after your first, that you realized the predicament you were in. Dating a stripper is certainly not for the faint of heart and you quickly realized that.

The woman you have been getting to know, intimately, spent most of her nights scantily clad and dancing for men. It’s how she makes a living and she’s not interested in these men, you know that, but that only slightly makes it better.

You’d considered asking her to quit one night when she pried herself from your arms in order to get ready for work. It wasn’t easy watching her dress and then stuff an incredibly sexy black lace number into her bag. But you knew Natasha wouldn’t and you knew it wasn’t your place to ask, not with things being so new between you. Also, the last thing Natasha would want is to live off the money you make while she did nothing, being a trophy wife obviously wasn’t something she wanted. Nor did you want that for her.

Still, it’s a struggle at times, knowing other people got to see what you wish was for your eyes only.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. You didn’t come here to stress yourself out anymore, you came to do the opposite. Seeing your girl was always the perfect remedy to a stressful day.

Natasha catches your eyes as the music fades and her scarlet lights fade to purple. You nod towards the hallway filled with private rooms and the slight quirk of her brow is enough to let you know she understands.

“Hey,” you turn to Steve as he calls for your attention,“ are you okay if-”

“Go see your guy.” You chuckle while nodding to the brunette man standing outside his office, obviously waiting for Steve.

With a nod, Steve lightly squeezes your shoulder and heads over to his boyfriend. You watch as they share a smile, fingers lacing together before they slip into Bucky’s office.

Just as you’re about to head to a private room, you feel a hand slide across your lower back.

“You look like you could use a dance, sugar.” The words pull a chuckle from you and you look down at the redhead, green eyes just as bright as always even in the low light of the club.

“As much as I’d love a dance, I was really just hoping we could get away for a bit, maybe go hear some good music and have a drink,” her eyes soften the second she hears the tiredness in your voice.“ Are you off soon by chance?”

Natasha nods, eyebrows pinched with worry.“ That was my last dance actually. Let me get changed and we can go, yeah?”

The lack of hesitation from her to be there for you warms your heart and you can’t help but lean down and press a soft kiss to her lips. She hums softly against your lips, her hand caressing your cheek softly.

While waiting for Natasha to change, you go to see Bucky and inform Steve that you’re going to take Natasha somewhere to which he says is fine since he can just go back to Bucky’s when the club closes.

After brief hugs with the men and assurances that things are going to be fine, Steve having told Bucky about the situation earlier, you leave out.

Natasha is just stepping out of the back room when you get into the hallway, a pair of jeans and one of your dress shirts adorning her body.

“Is this what I can expect from leaving you in my apartment unattended? Stolen clothes?”

Her cheeks tint a light pink and she smiles bashfully.“ I didn’t want to wear the exact same thing I had on yesterday.”

You hum.“ I won’t complain. You look better in it than I ever could.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating how good you look in dress shirts,” she rebuttals as the two of you leave the club.

The ride to the piano bar consisted of Natasha telling you about her day, prior to work and you telling her about yours. Obviously you didn’t go deep into detail but she wanted to know what had caused you so much stress and you told her something rather unfortunate came up to which she took your hand and told you things would work out and you were grateful for her reassuring words.

When you arrive at the piano bar, you realize this is the first time Natasha had ever been. Sure, it was a bit of a hole in the wall spot, a lowkey bar you stumbled upon, but you love it here.

You tell her so as you walk in, the musical stylings of one Phil Coulson flowing through the space.

There are a few more people here than usual; some booths are occupied by groups, a couple of tables taken by couples, and about half of the stools occupied by others. Still, it’s not packed, the atmosphere calm and relaxing like you remember.

Guiding Natasha to a booth in the back corner, you wait for her to settle in before asking what drink she wants and heading to the bar to get it.

To your surprise, as you’re waiting for your drinks to be made, you’re approached by a familiar face.

“Hi.”

A small smile forms on your face as recognition flashes over your features.“ Well if it isn’t Miss Wanda Maximoff. Long time no see.”

“Miss Y/n Y/ln. You’re a hard person to find.” That accent hits your ears like a melody and you can’t remember how you forgot she had an accent.

You tilt your head.“ I wasn’t under the impression that you were looking for me.”

She shrugs, glancing away as her drink is sat in front of her.“ I mean, I wasn’t,” her cheeks flush,“ I just came by here a few times expecting to see you and I never did. But I guess a multimillion dollar company keeps a person rather busy.”

“That it does. But I’m here now, would you like to join me and my date?”

Her eyes snap to yours, face reddening even more.“ I couldn’t possibly-”

“You can and will.” The bartender sets your drinks down and you grab them, turning and nodding for Wanda to follow you.

She hesitates for a moment but chooses to follow.

At the booth, you slide in beside Natasha, setting her drink in front of her and wrapping your arm around her shoulders. All while Wanda slides into the booth across from you both.

“Nat, this is an acquaintance of mine, Wanda. Wanda, this is my date, Natasha.” You introduce the women.

They share a look, eyes surveying each other, then small smiles form.

“Lovely to meet you, Natasha.” Wanda sticks a hand out.

Nat takes her hand and shakes it.“ You too, Wanda. How did you and Y/n meet?”

Wanda looks at you, eyes seemingly twinkling a bit as she remembers.“ I just so happened to stumble across this place and she was already here. It wasn’t a long meeting really, we both had a drink and talked about the pianist. Miss CEO here was rushed away by her shadow.”

“Shadow?” Natasha questions.

You laugh a little, sipping your drink as you start to relax against the seat.“ She’s referring to Steve. He was on duty that night. It was actually right after you and I met.”

“Interesting,” Natasha’s eyebrow quirks and she looks at you.

There’s no jealousy in her eyes, nor anger or irritation. But, you catch a glint of something you can’t quite name and it makes you curious, however you push it aside for now.

Instead, the three of you fall into easy conversation. You talk about the basics: your interests, things you do on your down time, hobbies, and favorites.

While one might assume things would be awkward, given your romantic relationship with Natasha and the slightly suggestive nature of your first meeting with Wanda, they aren’t. The romanticism between you and Natasha remains and Wanda fits in as if she were an old friend, having even complimented the two of you, saying how cute you are together.

In the end, it’s a fun night and it’s exactly what you needed to unwind from the rather stressful day.

Yes, there’s still much to deal with regarding Hydra and the nonsense surrounding today’s incident but right now, with your girl under your arm and a new friend across from you, you decide to push the worries away and relish in the happy feelings the two redheads give you.

[beaconfeels]

Sunday Snippet

Felt like sharing some of the steter fic I’m working on. Pre-warning for anyone I tagged in case there’s content they wouldn’t want to read: this snippet includes smoking, and talk of murder, although nothing very graphic.

“I’m not a serial killer, you know,” Stiles says. He leans against the brick wall behind him, lets the coolness slide across his skin.

Peter raises his eyebrows.

Stiles waves off the dubious expression. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”

Peter takes a drag of his cigarette and offers it to Stiles, waiting for him to go on.

He doesn’t really smoke, but he’s done it enough not to choke on it, and he finds he likes companionably passing a cigarette between them, talking about murder, and touching their mouths to the same place, over and over again.

“I don’t get off on it, ya know? I don’t really take pleasure in it. I don’t mind it, and I suppose I like knowing I can do it, but mainly I just do it because some people need to be dead.”

“Makes sense to me,” Peter says. Their fingers brush together as he passes the cigarette this time. Warm, dry fingers against chilled ones. Just a touch, but it lingers.

Stiles loves Peter’s easy acceptance of his motives. He’s so tired of people talking about the dangers of vigilantes, and how these things should be trusted to the law, blah blah blah. “What about you?” He asks.

“A little bit of both,” Peter says. “Before—”he doesn’t have to elaborate, Stiles knows what before he’s talking about—“I was more like you, probably. I killed because it was part of protecting my pack. Now?” He pauses, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, and blowing the smoke out slowly. Stiles watches, mesmerized.

“Now I know that killing the people who killed my pack will probably protect us too, but mostly I want them to pay. I’d rather they suffered, if I’m being honest, but that requires logistics I don’t feel like messing with right now.”

Stiles nods in understanding. Doing a murder slowly takes more planning. He’d had to do it with Rafe, so he could copy the serial killer’s MO properly, and planning had been a bitch.

Peter flicks ash out onto the ground. “Also, there’s the wolf. The wolf likes to hunt. The wolf likes to sink its claws and fangs into things. I am the wolf and the wolf is me.” He shrugs, a what are ya gonna do? gesture, and Stiles smiles.

Tagging @lucky-bishop @iamaslutforjatp @nickcharleswife @midmorning-bomb @voidboymads @pussyeatersamwinchester and anyone else who has something they want to share.

[thecousinsdangereux]

short fuse if you light my fire [19/?]

pairing: Yelena/Kate (Hawkeye)

rating: T (for now)

chapter word count: 9,332

summary: Yelena decides to go to college. It just so happens to be the same one Kate Bishop attends.

preview: 

“You’re being pretty judge-y for someone who hasn’t even tasted this stuff. It makes it just like movie theater popcorn!” “Too buttery? Entirely one-note in flavor?” she asks, and Kate gasps softly, her offense over-exaggerated with a dropped jaw that has Yelena grinning. “Don’t settle for what you know, Kate Bishop. There are greater things — yet unexplored — in the universe.” Kate’s grin cracks wide. “That’s pretty poetic for popcorn.” “I take my food very seriously! You should know this by now. Thankfully, I’m also very, very generous. Very indulgent.” She holds out a hand. “So give me your artificial butter garbage. I have to add it to the kernels.” In an action entirely contrary to Yelena’s demand, Kate moves the carton out of reach, lifting it high over her head, eyebrows raising in clear challenge. “Not sure you deserve to use it, after all the slander. What if you make it wrong to prove a point? Maybe I should take over.” Temporarily abandoning the heating oil, Yelena steps closer, and Kate does not step back. (It feels a little like a game sometimes: their back and forth. Or worse, a dare. There are moments — ones like these — where Kate’s smile is teasing, but she watches a little too closely for it to be entirely casual. It’s a tension Yelena doesn’t fully understand, as though the careful control Kate maintains on some part of herself is being offered up with an eagerness that doesn’t belong. Press here; let’s see what breaks.)

chapter link: AO3

playlist link: SPOTIFY

[nickeverdeen]

Blanket and Tea | Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Pairings: Kate x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Sickness

Summary: Working from home today you decide to get it over with while Kate is putting together a furniture, but when Kate notices somethin off about you she doesn’t let it get worse.

Ps: This is a bit shorter as I only came up with this in a bus so spare me, thank you

———————

The soft creak of a power drill and the occasional thud of wood echoed through the apartment, pulling you from your slumber. Rubbing your eyes, you shuffled out of the bedroom, the oversized hoodie you’d slept in hanging loosely over your frame.

The sight that greeted you in the living room made you smile. Kate Bishop, already dressed in her usual mix of casual and functional clothes, was crouched on the floor, wrestling with pieces of a half-assembled closet. A manual lay open on the floor nearby, though it seemed mostly ignored.

“Good morning,” you said, voice still laced with sleep as you padded over to her.

Kate glanced up, her face lighting up as she saw you. “Morning, sleepyhead.” She sat back on her heels, gesturing to the half-built furniture. “I’m almost done.”

“Need help?” you offered, kneeling beside her.

Kate shook her head. “Nah, I’ve got it. You should get yourself some breakfast.”

You arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue, standing back up. “Alright, if you say so.”

As you wandered into the kitchen, you could hear Kate muttering to herself about screws and dowels. You grabbed some toast and tea, sitting down at the small dining table where you could still see her.

“So, what inspired you to start this so early?” you teased, taking a bite of your toast.

Kate shrugged, not looking up from her work. “The box has been staring at me for a week. It was time to put it out of its misery.”

You laughed, sipping your tea as you kept up the light banter. By the time you finished breakfast, Kate was tightening the last screws. You grabbed your work files—notes on a case you’d been reviewing for your job as a private investigator—and began flipping through them, occasionally throwing in a comment to keep the conversation going.

As the morning went on, you started to feel a bit off. Your head was heavy, and your body ached faintly. Deciding a blanket and tea might help, you excused yourself.

“Everything okay?” Kate asked, immediately alert.

“Yeah, just grabbing a blanket and some more tea,” you reassured her with a small smile.

Kate’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded, setting the closet into a stable position before standing up. “You sure?”

“I’m fine, promise,” you said, brushing it off.

She hesitated for a moment before letting you go. You returned a few minutes later, wrapped in your blanket and holding your tea, settling back into your chair. Kate cast you the occasional concerned glance but didn’t say anything.

An hour passed, and the files you were working on blurred together as your grogginess grew. Kate, now finished with the closet and tidying up, noticed you slumping further into your chair.

“Alright, that’s it,” Kate said, walking over and gently tugging the files from your hands.

“Kate—”

Before you could protest further, she bent down and scooped you up in her arms, blanket and all, cradling you against her chest in a bridal style.

“Kate!” you yelped, though your voice was weak, and you made no real attempt to resist.

“Shush,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re not feeling well. Bed, now.”

You mumbled something about being fine, but Kate wasn’t having it. She carried you back to the bedroom, laying you down with care. She tucked the blanket snugly around you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Stay here and rest,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing.

You sighed, already half-asleep, but not before managing a quiet, “You’re so stubborn.”

Kate smiled, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Always.”

She stayed with you until your breathing evened out, her fingers gently tracing soothing patterns on your arm. As you drifted off, the last thing you felt was the warmth of her presence, a sense of comfort settling over you like a second blanket.

[schrodingerspsycho]

Violet Light - Part 1

Pairing - Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Warnings - None

Word Count - 4.6k

Summary - When Yelena gets home from doing press for the New Avengers, she finds someone else already in her apartment. What follows is a familiar scene, but it leads to something they didn't get to do last time.

Author's Note - This fic contains spoilers for Thunderbolts*!!! Do not read if you don't want the movie spoiled for you! You have been warned!

Part 2

Yelena sighed as she walked into her apartment, home at last. They’d been forced into nonstop meetings and interviews about their new team that they didn’t even want to be a part of for the last three days, and she was so exhausted she could barely stand. She could train and fight and kill for weeks on end without slowing down, but working with the press was a new kind of torture. Thoughts of her nice, warm bed consumed her so much that she almost didn’t notice that there was someone else in the apartment.

Her knife went sailing across the room and into the wall, narrowly missing a head of black hair as the intruder ducked out of the way. “Kate Bishop?” Yelena said, confused. “What are you doing here? How did you find my apartment?”

“You’re not the only one who can find people,” Kate said, stepping up and glowering down at her. Yelena had forgotten how tall she was.

“Fair enough. Why are you here?” she asked again, before she noticed Kate’s expression. “Wait, are you mad at me or something?”

“Yes, I am mad at you!” Kate cried. “When you never reached out after Christmas, I thought, 'Okay, so she doesn’t want to be my friend.’ And that’s cool. You’re a busy assassin, you don’t have time for friends. You work alone. I get it. Whatever.”

“You wanted to be my friend?” Yelena repeated softly, but Kate didn’t seem to hear her.

“But then you go and join a super team called the New Avengers, and you don’t even invite me?!? You know that’s always been my dream! I thought you at least respected my abilities as a superhero!"

“What? No! No, Kate, I do respect your abilities. You’ve got it all wrong, I never joined any team-”

“Yeah, right, like I’m supposed to believe that. I saw you on the news! I mean, John Walker? He got an invite, and I didn’t? Are you kidding me? He’s not even the only super soldier on the team!”

“We were tricked into it, we were trying to capture Valentina. She hired us to kill each other and then she created a super villain that almost destroyed New York, it was a whole thing.”

“You fought a supervillain? Are you okay- No! Stop making me feel bad for you, I’m supposed to be mad at you!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? If you want, you can join. I would love to have you on the team.”

“Wait, seriously?” Kate smiled.

“Yes, you’re very skilled, and it would be good to have someone I actually like on the team. I don’t know most of those people. Like I said, I never wanted to join anything. But if I had made a team, you would’ve been my first call.”

“Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes. Valentina has to do whatever we say, or we expose her and send her to prison. I say Kate Bishop is on the team, then Kate Bishop is on the team.”

“Wow, that’s pretty good blackmail.”

“Yes, it’s really fun.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to be on a team with Bucky!” Kate squealed. Yelena raised an eyebrow. “Ahem. Thank you for the invitation. I accept. And you’re forgiven.”

“Good,” Yelena said. Then she looked up cautiously at Kate. “Did you really want to be my friend? Like for real?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, you’re a total badass, and you’re really fun when you’re not trying to kill my partner. You’re like the coolest person I know.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. I�� I didn’t know that.” Yelena hung her head, the weight of the months past finally catching up to her. “I wish I had reached out. I’ve been very lonely lately. But I haven’t had a real friend in… a long time.” Anya’s face flashed through her mind. “I wouldn’t have known where to start.”

“Well, let’s start now, then. I’m already here, do you wanna have another girls' night?”

“Yeah, that sounds really fun. Thank you, Kate Bishop.”

“Do you have any mac and cheese?”

“Of course I do. You didn’t make it yet? That’s terrible breaking and entering etiquette.”

“Who says I broke something?”

“Did you?”

“Yes, absolutely. I’ll pay for it.”

Yelena grinned.

Kate followed her into the kitchen and began opening and closing the cabinet doors aimlessly.

“Kate Bishop, what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for your pots. Your kitchen is organized weird.”

“No, it’s not, I’m very organized. You don’t know where anything is, just go sit down. I’ll make the macaroni.”

“No, I want to help.”

“Fine, the pots are in there,” Yelena said, pointing. Kate handed her a pot, and she began filling it with water. “Do you see this, Kate Bishop?” she asked, opening her silverware drawer as she made her way to the stove, revealing a full cutlery set.

“Oh my god, are you still on about that?”

“Yes, I want you to admit how weird it is.”

“Fine,” Kate scoffed. “Now that we’re friends, maybe I’ll get a second fork.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Yelena smirked.

“I love your new haircut, by the way. It looks amazing.”

“Aw, thank you! I love it. It’s so much easier to deal with. The long hair just gets in the way.”

“Yeah, I get that. It really suits you.”

“Kate Bishop, you flatter me. You are so kind.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” Kate replied with a wink. Yelena averted her gaze. “I wish I could pull off having short hair.”

“You don’t think you could?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. I tried it in high school, and it was not a good look.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, I buzzed the side.” Kate brushed her hand against the left side of her head and made a disgusted face. “It was bad.”

“No way, you had an undercut? Seriously? I would love to see that!”

“No. No, you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t have been that bad.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I think you would look good with short hair.”

Kate snorted. “Maybe in another life.”

“So, are there pictures?” Yelena asked after a moment.

“If there are, you’ll never see them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re awful, I just told you!”

“Oh, pretty please, Kate Bishop?” Yelena pleaded, giving her an exaggerated pout and batting her eyelashes.

“Absolutely not.” Kate rolled her eyes. Yelena thought for a moment.

“You know, I would offer to show you an embarrassing high school photo of me in exchange, but I spent all my teenage years being tortured in the Red Room, so I don’t have any.”

Kate stared at her. “Are you seriously trying to use the tragic backstory card to get me to show you an embarrassing picture of me?”

“Yes, absolutely,” she nodded. “Is it working?”

“You are something else,” Kate laughed, picking up a piece of macaroni that had fallen out of the box and flinging it at her.

“What was that?” Yelena exclaimed, unable to keep her own laughter from her eyes.

“What, have you never used macaroni as a weapon before?”

“No, I have not. Macaroni is sacred. I will not accept this blasphemy in my house, Kate Bishop.”

“My deepest apologies,” Kate said sarcastically, folding herself in a goofy and dramatic bow. Yelena laughed. It felt good to laugh.

They made dinner, managing to work together like a well-oiled machine despite the unfamiliarity of the situation. Yelena would’ve thought that a houseguest was the last thing she wanted tonight, but Kate’s presence was strangely comforting. She could feel her exhaustion ebbing away as if Kate was breathing life back into her weary bones with every stupid joke. She was grateful that the archer had forced herself into her life once again; her violet sweater, gorgeous smile, and joyous, shining eyes instantly brightened Yelena’s lonely world. And it wasn’t long before two bowls of mac and cheese had been placed on the table, one smothered in hot sauce and one without, next to two matching silver forks.

“I think it’s about time we shared that drink, huh?” Yelena said, pulling out two shot glasses and her finest bottle of vodka.

“Oh, no thanks. I really only drink cocktails,” Kate replied.

“What? You’ve never done shots before?”

“Well, I have, they just aren’t my thing,” she shrugged.

“Oh, come on, I expected more from you, Kate Bishop,” Yelena proclaimed, already pouring a generous shot for herself. “At least have one drink with me, please. I promise you this is the best vodka you’ll ever taste, I bought it straight from Russia. And you do owe me a drink.”

“You went all the way to Russia just to buy vodka?” Kate chuckled incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess I have to try it, then.”

“Yay!” Yelena cheered, her expression giddy. “You will not regret it.”

Kate grinned back at her, her cheeks flushed. Yelena pretended not to notice.

She poured Kate a smaller shot and handed it to her, still smiling. “За тебя!” she saluted, raising her glass.

“Oh, uh… za tebya,” Kate repeated awkwardly. Yelena laughed.

“Oh, Kate Bishop, your Russian is terrible! But I like that you attempted it, that was really cute.”

“I’m not cute,” Kate mumbled, refusing to meet Yelena’s eye. Then she tossed her head back and downed the shot. Yelena stared for a moment, impressed, before downing her own. She shut her eyes, savoring the familiar burn in her throat. Then Kate began to cough.

“Kate, are you okay?” Yelena asked, rushing to her side and rubbing her back soothingly. Kate nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay. That was just… wow. That was intense.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you drink it.”

“No, no, it was great!”

“Really? You like it?”

“Yeah, I’m just not used to doing shots. But you were right, that’s the best vodka I’ve ever had.

“Okay, good. I’m glad,” Yelena sighed in relief. Then she realised she still had her hand on Kate’s lower back, and she quickly moved away from her. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and she knew it wasn’t from the vodka. “We should eat before it gets cold.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Kate agreed.

It didn’t take long for them to fall back into comfortable conversation as they ate. They discussed everything that had happened since their last meeting, from Kate spending Christmas with the Bartons to Yelena’s battle with Valentina and Sentry. Yelena left out some of her more depressing stories from the past months, and she suspected that Kate was doing the same. She was just glad that Kate was eating her fill of macaroni this time.

“So tell me about the team,” Kate said as they finished their food and moved over to the couch. “I know you haven’t spent much time with them, but what are they like?”

“Well, there’s uh… Ava. She’s got these disappearing powers and she can go through walls, it’s pretty cool. She’s skilled, and she doesn’t talk much. I like her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Kate chuckled, and Yelena smiled in spite of herself.

“Then there’s Bob. He needs time to learn how to use his powers again after Valentina turned him into a supervillain. If he even can use them again. But he’s sweet, you will like him.”

“I love that you’ve already redeemed your first supervillain and put him on the team,” Kate said wistfully. Yelena shook her head.

“I told you before, we didn’t do any of it on purpose.”

“But that makes it so much cooler!”

Yelena couldn’t help but smile at Kate’s whining. “Well, there’s one thing you won’t be jealous of, is having to spend time with John Walker. That man is so annoying.”

“Oh, yeah, I bet. Wait, is he actually, like, terrible? I mean, he did help you guys save New York, right?”

Yelena sighed. “Yeah, he did. He’s trying to be a better person. But he’s still insufferable. I mean, I have way more blood on my hands than him, but at least I’m not an asshole!”

Kate laughed, and Yelena smiled proudly to herself.

“Well, I’m sure you can more than put him in his place,” Kate grinned. “Now tell me about Bucky! What’s he like?”

“There’s not much to say,” Yelena frowned. The jump in pitch of Kate’s voice and her eagerly bouncing knee had put a pit in her stomach. It seems she hated Kate’s obsession with the Avengers more than she realized. “He’s kind of a jerk, too, honestly.”

“What? No, that can’t be true.”

“I did tell you he blew up our car and tied us up, yes?”

“Well, yeah, but he didn’t know you were the good guys! He made a mistake, and as soon as he realized it, he became part of the team.”

“Yeah, but he was really rude about it!”

“Okay, well, that must be an occupational hazard for Avengers, because that sounds a lot like Clint,” Kate mused. “I’m sure I can get him to open up.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Kate Bishop.”

Kate gave her a probing look, and Yelena dropped her eyes to the couch. For a moment, she was convinced that Kate could see straight through her.

“And what about the other guy?” Kate said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The big guy with the red mask. He’s a super soldier, too, right?”

“Oh yes, Alexei,” Yelena smiled, her shoulders instantly relaxing. “He goes by the Red Guardian. He’s… well, he’s my dad.”

“Wait, what? He’s your dad?”

“Well, he’s not my biological father, but yes. He’s my dad. He’s a very silly, kind man, and he loves being a superhero. He was the only one who wanted to be a team. You will like each other.”

“That’s awesome,” Kate grinned. “I didn’t know you had any family left, after… but I’m really glad you do.”

“Me too,” Yelena smiled. “I am actually looking forward to working with him. And he’s over the moon about it. In every interview we did, he would throw his arm around my shoulders and scream that he was so excited to fight crime with his daughter.”

“Awwww, that’s adorable,” Kate giggled, and Yelena couldn’t help but agree. “Are you two close?”

“No. But I think we are starting to be. He may be the worst, but I love him.”

“That’s so great. I’m so happy for you, Yelena,” Kate grinned, a fondness in her eyes that Yelena wasn’t used to. She dipped her head timidly.

“Thank you.”

“Do you really think he’ll like me?”

“Of course. What’s not to like?”

Kate’s face immediately flushed, and Yelena felt her own cheeks growing hot at the sight. She suddenly felt nervous and wanted to look anywhere but at Kate. But she forced herself to push through it; she would have time to sort out the meaning behind these strange emotions later.

“And what about your mother, Kate Bishop?” she blurted, desperate to change the subject. “How did she handle it when you got her arrested?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Kate chuckled, her voice noticeably strained. She shifted uncomfortably and stared at her hands. Yelena cursed herself in her mind. “She’s still awaiting trial. The first time I visited her, she just screamed at me. She said that it was all my fault, that I betrayed her and ruined her life. That Clint had brainwashed me against her, and that… and that my father would be ashamed of me.” Her voice broke on her last word, and her eyes were welling up with tears. Yelena felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort her, but she didn’t know how. “And now she’s refusing to see me. She won’t even leave her cell.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Yelena consoled. “You do not deserve such treatment.”

“Thanks,” Kate whispered. “It’s fine. I know she still loves me. She just needs some time, that’s all.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It actually feels good to talk about it with someone. Thank you, Yelena.”

“Your mother is wrong, you know. She is the one who betrayed you. You are very brave, Kate Bishop.”

“You really think so?” she asked, her voice small.

“I would not lie to you.”

Kate gazed up at her, her head smushed into the couch cushion and her lips curling into a sleepy smile. Yelena smiled back, holding her gaze and her breath. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, and a feeling blossomed in her chest that she’d never felt before.

“Do you want to do another shot?” Kate blurted, jumping up and wiping her eyes.

“What? You didn’t even want to do the first one.”

“Yeah, but who knows when I’m gonna get the chance to taste real Russian vodka again?” she replied, already walking toward the kitchen.

“If I have anything to say about it, it will be often,” Yelena said under her breath. She watched as Kate grabbed the bottle and their shot glasses off the table and brought them back over, her hips swaying slightly. She realized too late that she was staring, but Kate didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you ready?” she asked as she poured out two shots, more even this time.

“I didn’t know you were such a party animal,” Yelena smirked.

“Well, you don’t know everything about me, then.”

“I look forward to learning more of your secrets, Kate Bishop.”

“So do I.” Kate handed her her glass and sat back down on the couch, much closer than before. Yelena tried not to think about the way their thighs were pressed together. “Cheers!” she exclaimed, clinking their glasses together. Yelena nodded, and they downed their shots at the same time. Kate started coughing again, but not as badly as before. “Wow, that stuff is strong!”

“Do you need a chaser?”

“No, I’m good. But that’s definitely the last one I’m doing tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” Yelena decided, setting her glass on the coffee table. Usually, she would consider only two shots to be child’s play, but she didn’t feel the need to keep drinking tonight.

“Oh, and in other news that’s kind of related to my mom, her fiancé, Jack- who’s the nephew of the man she murdered, by the way- still hasn’t called off the engagement! And he’s still trying to be my stepdad!”

“Really? That’s crazy!”

“Yeah, I know! And he’s started hanging out with my LARPer friends, too. He keeps trying to convince me to train him, he says he wants to be my sidekick. He’s started calling himself Swordsman.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” Yelena laughed. “It’s so obvious! That’s like if you just called yourself Archer.”

“Funny you should say that, because that is what he calls me,” Kate said before bursting into laughter of her own.

“No way!”

“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve told him it’s Hawkeye! He just can’t remember it!”

They laughed, and Kate laid her head on Yelena’s shoulder. And if Yelena’s whole body hadn’t tensed, she might’ve kept it there.

“He sounds like a very strange man.”

“Oh, believe me, he is,” Kate nodded. “But he’s also a really good guy. I mean, I’m not gonna start calling him dad anytime soon, but it’s nice that he’s stuck around.”

“That’s great,” Yelena smiled.

“Yeah. And there was something else I was gonna tell you, what was it? Oh yeah, some kid who calls herself Ms. Marvel showed up in my apartment a couple months ago and asked me to join her superhero team.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it sucks when someone keeps something like that from you, doesn’t it?” Kate said with a shit-eating grin.

“Wait, so you already joined another team?” Yelena cried, punching her in the shoulder softly. Softly for her, anyway.

“Yep.”

“Then you can’t join the New Avengers with me?” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, I can! I’ll join both!”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to try to be on two superhero teams at the same time?”

“Yeah, I mean I can alternate missions if I have to, but it’s not like I have much else going on. I already dropped out of school, and Bishop Security practically runs itself.”

“That is… so like you,” Yelena smirked. “So, who is this Ms. Marvel girl anyway? Who else is on the team? What daring missions have you gone on together?”

“Well, right now it’s just me and Kamala- that’s her name- and we haven’t actually gone on any missions yet.”

“What, you haven’t? Have you done anything yet? Do you even have a team name?”

“...No.”

“Well then, there isn’t a team at all! You cannot count that!”

“Okay, but she said she’s trying to recruit others. And she said she knows Nick Fury, so she’s gotta be legit.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Yelena rolled her eyes. “What legitimacy does this Kamala have besides claiming to know Nick Fury? Who is she?”

“She’s the kid who saved Jersey City!”

“A kid? How old is she?”

“She’s sixteen.”

“Sixteen? She is a baby! Babies should not be superheroes!”

“She has superpowers!”

“That does not matter,” Yelena said dismissively, waving her hand. “You cannot work with her.”

A mischievous grin spread across Kate’s face. “Why not? Are you jealous?”

“Of course I am not jealous! If you want to fight crime with an infant, then fight crime with an infant. I don’t care.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Kate kept staring at her with that knowing look on her face, and this time Yelena couldn’t hold her gaze. “You know, if I had to choose, I would join your team.”

Yelena scoffed. “Oh, so you can work with Bucky?”

“What? No, so I can work with you.”

Yelena stared at her in confusion. Kate gave her a soft smile.

“You really want to work with me?”

“Yes, obviously!” she exclaimed. “Like I said, you’re awesome, and this is the most fun I’ve had in months. And we’re friends now! Fighting crime is always more fun with friends.”

Yelena smiled. “I want to work with you, too,” she breathed. “This is the most fun I’ve had… maybe ever.”

“Really?”

“Like I said, I have never had a real friend before. And this is the first girls' night I’ve had without any ulterior motives.”

“You mean you don’t break in and make dinner for all the girls you fight?”

“How many times must we go over this? I didn’t break anything!”

“Okay, whatever,” Kate laughed, her hand falling onto Yelena’s leg. She glanced down at the point of contact.

“And no, you are the only one,” she said softly.

“Good.”

“Did this Kamala break anything in your apartment?”

“Yeah, she tore my door right off its hinges. With her superpowers,” Kate replied smugly. “She didn’t make me mac and cheese, though.”

“Ah, so she is the one who is teaching you this bad etiquette! She is a bad influence on you, Kate Bishop,” Yelena declared.

“I guess you’re gonna have to teach me some of your moves, then.”

“I guess so.”

“Can’t wait.”

“And what else is there, Kate Bishop?” Yelena asked. It was finally her turn to fix Kate with a knowing gaze.

“What?”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been wanting to ask me something all night, I can see it in your eyes. So go on, what is it?”

“Okay, how impressed were you when I snuck in here and dodged your knife?” Kate asked eagerly, her eyes shining like an excited puppy’s. Yelena smiled.

“Very impressed,” she said proudly. “You dodged it like a pro; that was good form. And I didn’t know you were here until I got inside, you hid surprisingly well.”

“Yes! Oh my god, thank you, I was so nervous about it. And I was trying so hard to be intimidating when I confronted you, did it work? Was I intimidating?”

“Oh, no. No, you cannot intimidate me, Kate Bishop,” Yelena chuckled. “But you did look really good.”

“Really?”

“I’ve never had someone step up to me so boldly like that before. It was…”

“Hot?” Kate offered with a confident smirk.

“Yes.” Yelena shifted to look at her straight on, a challenge in her voice.

“W-what?” Kate chuckled, her cheeks turning red and her eyes growing wide and hopeful. It was all the permission Yelena needed, and she spoke before she could second-guess herself.

“I said you’re hot, Kate Bishop. Is that okay for me to say?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, that’s more than okay.” Kate moved so they were now shoulder to shoulder, and Yelena felt herself leaning in.

“Good, you deserve to know. You are beautiful, Kate Bishop.”

“You don’t have to keep saying my whole name, you know. I know you know it.”

“Maybe I just like the sound of it, huh?” Yelena said, leaning closer still. “I’m not talking to any other Kates. I’m talking to you.”

“Oh,” Kate breathed.

“Can I kiss you, Kate Bisho-”

She felt Kate cup her cheeks, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her waist. This wasn’t her first kiss, but it was the first one that had ever felt like this. She felt as if she’d flung herself off the Merdeka again, but she was falling up instead of down. Her heart was positively soaring, and she never wanted to land. This must be that light Alexei was talking about, she thought dreamily.

“Wow,” Kate gasped when they broke apart a moment later. “That was amazing. I was not expecting that when I came over tonight, but I’m so glad we did it. Are you? Did you like it? Was that good? ‘Cause I don’t know, it’s been like over a year since I’ve kissed anyone, and I don’t know if I-”

“Kate,” Yelena interrupted, taking her hand. Her skin was soft, and she could feel all the calluses built up from her years of being an archer. The sensation made her heart beat even faster. “You talk a lot, do you know that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I might’ve heard that before.”

Yelena smiled at her affectionately. “It’s cute when you talk so much. And you’re right, that was amazing.”

“Oh, good. That’s a relief,” she sighed.

“Do you… want to do it again?”

“Yeah, I-I do. I do,” Kate stammered. “But you actually want to kiss me, right? Like it’s not just the vodka?”

“I am Russian, remember? Two shots is nothing,” Yelena scoffed. “Besides, vodka doesn’t make you do things you don’t want to do. It gives you the courage to do things you’re too scared to do.”

“Are you saying you were scared to kiss me?” Kate grinned.

“Social skills are not my strong suit, but I know that kissing each other can ruin friendships. I do not want to ruin ours before it even starts.” I don’t want to lose you, she finished in her head.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t ruin anything.”

“Good.”

Then they were kissing again, and Yelena couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried. They were less cautious this time, pushing against each other in what felt like the greatest battle Yelena had ever fought. But it ended entirely too soon as Kate pulled away once again.

“There is one problem, though.”

Yelena’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not Russian, so the vodka is kinda getting to me. I think I might be too drunk to walk back to my place.”

“Are you asking me if you can stay the night, Kate Bishop?” Yelena smirked.

“I-is that okay?”

“I was hoping you would.” Yelena dropped her gaze to her lap. “I… I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You never have to be alone, Yelena,” Kate said softly, squeezing her hand. “You have me now.”

Yelena didn’t know what had happened first: her tugging on Kate’s shirt, Kate’s fingers finding their way into her hair, or their mouths colliding once again. All she knew was that Kate tasted like mangos, and she never wanted to stop kissing her.

[r3dcherri3s]

Between Duty and Love

pairing: Kate Bishop x fem! reader

warnings: angst, arguing(?) reader gets mad, fluff at the end (I think that’s it? let me know if I missed something! This is my first time posting here</3)

word count: 921

summary: Kate has been spending all her time at work and has been accidentally ignoring y/n.

——————————————————————————-

Kate Bishop sat at her desk, surrounded by the remnants of her latest mission. Papers scattered, her laptop screen glowed with reports, and her phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. Kate took a moment to rub her tired eyes before diving back into the pile of paper work on her desk. It was another late night of fighting off random criminals, and going back to the compound to finish up stacks of paperwork.

Meanwhile, in the shared apartment that she and her girlfriend shared, the air hung heavy with tension. The clock struck midnight, and the front door slowly creaked open, revealing her girlfriend on the other side of the door, Y/N, with a look of frustration etched on her face.

"Kate," Y/N said, her voice tight with anger.

"You promised you'd be home hours ago. What happened?" Kate looked up, guilt written across her features. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, babe. There was just this last-minute thing I had to take care of but this is important, Y/N.” Kate breathed in. “There's been a surge in criminal activity, and the team needs me—"

Y/N interrupted, her voice rising, frustration boiled over, the pent-up emotions finally bursting forth. "The team always needs you, Kate! But what about us? What about our plans? Every time we try to spend time together, you're off on some mission or buried in work."

Kate's heart sank as she realized the toll her actions were taking on their relationship. "I'm trying to keep the city safe, Y/N. You know that." Her eyebrows furrowed as she huffed out.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood still, the anger and hurt swirling inside you like a tempest. "I need someone who's here for me, not somebody who’s constantly gone. I can't keep living like this. I’m going to stay with a friend for awhile."

Kate's heart sank as she watched you turn away, the pain in your voice cutting through her like a knife. "Wait, Y/N, please. Let's talk about this."

But you were already halfway to the door, your footsteps echoing in the empty apartment. With a heavy heart, Kate sank back into her chair, the weight of your words bearing down on her like a crushing weight.

Days turned into weeks, the silence between you and Kate stretching on like an endless abyss. Each passing moment only served to deepen the rift between you, the pain of your separation a constant ache in both your hearts.

Alone in your friends apartment, you couldn't shake the memories of your time together. The laughter, the shared moments of intimacy, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But alongside those memories lurked the pain of feeling abandoned.

Unable to bear the weight of your emotions any longer, you made a decision.

You made your way to the Avengers headquarters, where Kate had been spending most of her time lately. The familiar sight of the towering building filled you with a sense of apprehension, but you pushed forward anyways. As you approached a familiar office, you could hear the muffled sound of voices from within. With a hesitant knock, you pushed open the door, stepping into the dimly lit room.

Kate's eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of you, her expression a mix of hope and trepidation as she quickly shot up from her seat and made her way towards you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. "I came to talk, Kate. I’m sorry." For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. You continued speaking. “I know this job means a lot to you, I know what I signed up for when we started dating..”

Then, with a resigned sigh, Kate gestured for you to take a seat next to her.

The words poured from your lips like a rushing river, the pent-up emotions finally finding release. You spoke of your hurt and your anger, of feeling neglected and unimportant in Kate's life. But beneath it all, there was a thread of love and longing, a desperate hope that things could still be salvaged between you.

Kate listened in silence, her expression pained as she took in your words. And when you were finally spent, she reached out, taking your hand in hers.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I never meant to ignore you. I've been so caught up with work that I didn’t realize I was hurting you.” Tears welled up in Kate's eyes as she spoke, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

With a shaky breath, you reached out, cupping Kate's face in your hands. "I love you, Kate. But we can't keep living like this. We need to find a balance to make time for each other."

A flicker of hope lit up Kate's eyes as she leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours. "I promise, Y/N. From now on, I'll make sure to balance my job and to spend time with you.”

You smiled softly and pressed your lips against Kate’s, which she happily accepted.

-

As the days passed, Kate kept true to her promise. She made a conscious effort to prioritize your relationship, carving out time in her busy schedule for you. Whether it was a quiet dinner at home, a simple stroll in the park, or simply curling up together on the couch to watch a movie. Kate made sure that you felt loved and cherished.

——————————————————————————-

AAAA sorry this was short 🙏

[olrinarts]

I love how Harut is so fascinated with the history he represents. His sister seems like a protector of sorts. I totally believe that when Narinder said in 'Consistency Must Transpose' that he was hoping to find other traveling partners while meaning his kids, he definitely got that.

He and Esriaal especially teaching the lambkits how to fight and protect themselves on crusades while Narinder also teaches them how to search for information, something Harut uses like crazy.

I can even see Harut and Narinder going on trips to track down information about the sheepfolk, each clan and the like. Maybe even scouring libraries and random books gathered from each domain. I totally believe Shamura has a possible hidden library of all the books he could get, but the likelihood of them being cared for and maintained as his mind wavered became slim, so the books are hard to read and understand at times.

have a lil fic for this bc it made the brain go brrrr (under the readmore bc it's a lil long)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Dad!’

Narinder turned his head, all three eyebrows lifted as Harut’s excited voice echoed off the ancient stone walls of the vault. Harut had always been the quieter one, Israafil forever needing to be reminded to keep her voice down; in contrast, Harut often had difficulty speaking up. Let alone in a place like this, Midas’ vaults long coveted stomping grounds that Harut always wanted to delve into as soon as Midas would grudgingly allow anyone inside. Now, the little black sheep’s hooves were clicking and clacking as he raced across the cluttered cavern. ‘Yes, Ru?’

‘Come see!’ Harut said, grabbing Narinder’s hand and tugging on it, dark eyes sparkling the same way the Lamb’s did when they were excited. ‘I found something, come see!’

‘There are many things here,’ he said, amused as he let his son tow him along. ‘You shall have to be specific.’

‘I think I found one of those things Ren was talking about – the kind Naana made when Ren was a lamb!’ Harut said, and Narinder nearly tripped as he flinched. ‘The tap trees!’

‘Tapestry,’ Narinder corrected faintly, and Harut nodded eagerly.

‘I think so, but I can’t tell, it’s too high up,’ he said, tugging on his father harder. ‘Can you get big? I started trying to climb but I fell down.’

‘Are you hurt?’ Narinder demanded, alarmed, eyes flickering sunset orange for a split second as he searched Harut’s energy for injury. Thankfully it was nothing but a bruise over the little lamb’s long tail, and Harut was shaking his head. ‘Very well, then. I would advise you to prepare for disappointment, however.’ The likelihood that one of the recordweaver tapestries had somehow survived the centuries was already low, without taking into account how the Bishops had intententionally sought out and burned every tapestry they could.

‘I know, but it has the red edge they talked about, with the gold stripes? So if I’m right, it’s a South Anuran tapestry! Maybe even one of Naana’s!’ Harut explained, excited again.

Narinder reminded himself to not get his hopes up. It was difficult to do; whenever his Lamb talked about the recordweaver tapestries, they did a good job of presenting as though it was just another facet of the sheep’s culture. He knew them too well, however. There was always a subtle loss haunting the edges of their smile, peeking out through their dark eyes. He was sure they didn’t know, but whenever they felt grief, the blue spot in their left eye always glittered a little brighter. The godblood would know that loss well, after all.

‘Then let us go find out,’ he said, shooing Harut a short distance away. A few seconds later, Narinder no longer occupied a mortal shape – his godform was never far from him, particularly as his role as the god of Life had cemented itself. He bent down, laying his skeletal hand on the ground, and Harut happily clambered into his palm. The little boy giggled a bit as Narinder carefully lifted him. Narinder smiled as he set his son on his shoulder. Harut liked heights for some reason, and took every chance he could to have Narinder pick him up.

‘Which way, little one?’ he asked, and Harut pointed off to Narinder’s right, so he set off.

The walls of the vault were lined with tall shelves, carved from Darkwood ebony, and he quickly spotted the rolled fabric. The gold thread was glittering in the low light; he could see why Midas might have squirrelled it away, regardless of if it was a recordweaver tapestry or not.

He picked it up with careful fingers, setting it on his palm, and held his hand up to Harut. The little lamb scrambled onto it, sitting down; he was so small, but his excitement filled the air. He then grabbed the edge of the tapestry with eager hands.

‘Ru. It may be delicate,’ Narinder reminded him before he could pull too hard. Harut made the same grumbling sound he’d learned from Leshy but nodded, and Narinder chuckled. ‘Be careful, but go ahead.’

‘I was going to be careful, dad,’ Harut huffed at him. ‘You don’t have to tell me that.’

Narinder lifted an eyebrow at his son. ‘I know you are excited, but that is no excuse to be rude,’ he warned, setting a finger on the tapestry so Harut couldn’t open it. ‘Rephrase that.’

Harut’s ears drooped, his eyes big as he looked up at Narinder. ‘Daaaaaaaad –’

‘That was not a request, little one.’

Harut made a face, but nodded. ‘Sorry. I’ll be careful, I promise,’ he said, and while it was still a touch huffy, Narinder nodded and removed his finger. Harut reminded him of Baal, more often than not, but sometimes his defiant streak was much more akin to Aym's.

With more caution, Harut unrolled the tapestry, laying it out over Narinder’s palm. It was the size of a small carpet, and though the border was indeed red and gold, the depiction on the tapestry was rich with greens and blues. It was stylised, and appeared to depict a marsh of some kind; there were skilfully woven creatures gathered in the centre, and there was no longer any question of what this was. Each creature, whether sporting white, black, or brown fleeces, was a sheep. Along the border were patterns that he didn’t know the meaning of, but recognised the shapes of. His Lamb had taken to writing things in their native script once they fully remembered it, so he’d seen it many times.

The tapestry was upside down, so he carefully turned it around, and then he recognised one section, down in the lower right corner. The letters were thin and delicate threads of gold, but he knew more or less what each letter was, in its phonetics. That was why he knew the names that were woven in.

Harut looked up at him, sparkling in happiness, running his fingers over the letters spelling out Verchiaal and Raqib. ‘That’s Naana’s name, right? And Baaba?’

‘Yes, Ru,’ Narinder said faintly, unable to look away from it. ‘You have a good eye, little one.’

‘We have to bring Ren here!’ Harut said excitedly, touching the threads woven by the Lamb’s mother and dyed by the Lamb’s father. ‘They’re going to be so excited, they have to see it!’

‘No,’ Narinder said, and before he could continue Harut gave him a horrified look. ‘Peace, little one. I mean only that they need not come here. We will take it to them.’

Harut blinked. ‘But doesn’t it belong to Midas?’ he said uncertainly.

‘No, it does not. If anyone can claim it, then it is your ren,’ he said firmly. ‘Midas may protest, but he shall have to accept it will leave with us. Otherwise, I will be informing your ren that he is keeping their own inheritance from them, and he will be left to handle a very angry god of Death. I believe he will be willing to let us take this with us, if only to avoid your ren’s wrath.’

Harut nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said, and carefully rolled it up again, his grey hands much more reverent now that he was certain of the tapestry’s origin. ‘Ren’s going to be happy, right?’

‘More than you can know, little one,’ he said, allowing Harut to climb back onto his shoulder. ‘Let us bring it to them, then. You have done well.’

Harut smiled, purring a little, tail wiggling with his pride. Narinder made sure his son was secure on his shoulder, then went to tell Midas that he would be losing an irreplaceable treasure, looking forward to Midas’ horrified face almost as much as he looked forward to his Lamb’s joyous one.

[sturniphone]

what are some hobbies that matt has that bunny would love to learn in order to spend time with him?

older!matt's hobbies

── Cooking

Matt’s the only one truly allowed near the oven. She knows that. But she still pads in behind him, oversized socks slipping on the tile, holding a plastic spoon like it’s a magic wand.

She squints at the recipe and pokes her tongue out as she measures salt with shaky hands. Way too much. She doesn’t realise. ❝This one says paprika, but I thought it was cinnamon ‘cause the lid is red… sorry.❞ Matt just chuckles, tugs her close, and lets her stir anyway. ❝You’re lucky you’re cute.❞

── Reading

She really wants to follow the plot. She perches next to him with her knees pulled up, book upside down for the first ten minutes, eyebrows knitted in deep confusion.Her tongue sticks out when she sounds out words in her head. She gets distracted mid-page and asks him what a character looks like instead of finishing the chapter.

❝Do you think he has a beard?❞ Matt slides his bookmark in and wraps his arm around her.❝Wanna switch to picture books, sweetheart? ❞She pouts. ❝No! I’m reading!❞ (She’s not.)

── Watching Documentaries

She wants to be smart with him. Wants to follow along. But twenty minutes in and she’s blinking slow, head tipping against his shoulder.Before that, though? She’s laser-focused. Tongue peeking out, brows furrowed, whispering little questions: ❝What’s erosion?❞ ❝Why are all the fish ugly?❞ ❝Is that penguin okay??❞

She gasps too loudly and cries when the baby animal gets separated. Matt kisses her forehead and explains everything in a soft, slow voice while she clutches her plushie and tries so hard to keep up. (Then falls asleep with her lips parted.)

── Chess

She’s bad at it. Really bad. But she sits on her knees across from him at the coffee table, tongue stuck out, knuckles on her cheeks, eyes darting between pieces. ❝I think this guy can go… here?❞ she says, moving a bishop like a pawn. Matt gently guides her hand. ❝Almost, bun. Bishops go diagonal. Wanna try again?❞

She nods fiercely. Tries so hard her eyes water. She gasps when he takes her knight and accuses him of cheating. ❝That’s not fair! He was guarding my duck guy!❞ (There are no duck guys.) He lets her win eventually. Every time.

thank you for the question sweetheart !! have ideas for other way she tries to be close with matt thats not his hobbies (If you wanna know..)

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the dreams that are @hedwig221b & @dear-massacre 🥰

Another week, another li'l excerpt from my current Sterek FWB AU WIP: you don't see me. Derek and Stiles are besties since college and roommates, and Derek is 'straight'.

-

"Don't try to swallow," Stiles says. "It can be... a lot, your first time. Especially for a straight guy."

Derek frowns. “I told you, I don't mind –“

A quick, high laugh from Stiles' smiling, pink mouth effectively cuts Derek off, and he abruptly yanks the supporting hand out from under his head to clamp firm fingers around Derek's bicep.

“Dude,” he monotones, "just trust me on this.”

Derek allows himself a beat to click his tongue irritably, but concession comes soon enough, in the form of a long, heaving sigh.

“Fine,” he grouses. “Just let me know when you’re close, then.”

"Sure, yeah, fine." Stiles' agreement comes out just a little bit breathless, and he squirms against the sheets as Derek knees his way in between his easily parting legs. "Shit. Okay. This... this is actually happening. Just – take it slow, all right? And be careful with your teeth, for the love of god."

The hot skin of the outside of Derek's thigh brushes, presses up against the soft skin on the inside of Stiles', and Stiles responds with an instant intake of breath, the grip he has on his own dick through his underwear tightening for a moment.

Derek feels like he's blinking through thick, sickly sweet syrup as he tears his gaze away and up to Stiles' face.

"Feel free to smack me around the head if I'm too terrible," he jokes.

Stiles rolls his eyes. The intensity of the gesture is undermined, slightly, by the bright flush that covers the entire expanse of his high cheekbones.

"Obviously I'm not going to smack you, Derek," he says.

Derek huffs. "I just mean, don't suffer on account of my ego, is all."

“I really don’t think I see any suffering on the cards here." Stiles pauses, head tilting to the side as he tucks one finger beneath the waistband of his boxers. "At least, not on my side, anyway."

"We should stop stalling," Derek rationalises. "This is already far too much talking for a decent blowjob."

Stiles scoffs, another finger slipping in to join the first. But still, they simply linger in that one place, making no move to push the item down, tug it away. Still, he just lies there, with the hard line of his dick obscenely visible through the indecently thin layer of fabric.

“Maybe I’m nervous,” he says.

Derek lifts an eyebrow. “You’re nervous?”

“Shut up,” Stiles says, a shaky laugh, a deep breath, and then his boxers are hurriedly pulled down to meet the bunched-up fabric of his sweatpants, his dick springing out to bounce against his taut stomach. “Okay. Fuck. Let’s do this.”

A snort escapes Derek at the severity in Stiles’ voice, the pinch of a frown creasing between his eyebrows. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep another burst of laughter from pushing its way out of him when Stiles’ mouth tugs even further down, almost comically downturned, at this barest hint of amusement.

Silently, Derek lowers himself, dropping his shoulders and his gaze until he can settle properly in between Stiles’ inched apart thighs. He takes in the length of Stiles’ erection, stiff and leaking a little at the tip, and he feels a hot simmer churn in his stomach, a vibrant current running underneath his skin.

Nerves, obviously. Simple, inevitable – nerves.

Enough words have passed between them now; too many words, just like he said before. And it’s without another syllable passing through his lips that he gets himself comfortable, reaches out to curl fingers at the base of Stiles’ dick to hold it firm and ready, and leans forward until he can wrap his mouth around the tip.

-

No pressure tags! @aurevell @crownofstardustandbone @lucky-bishop @renmackree @thotpuppy

[somber-sapphic]

Hiya! if you are open to requests can I ask for a sick Carina fic set during a clinic day where Carina drags herself in despite Maya telling her to go home, but when shes there, s19 has to go on a call, by the time theyre back shes exhausted herself and barely awake (Maya finds her asleep on one of the beds)

"You've really got the sniffles today, haven't you?" + “If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." + "It's not like you to get this sick."

Clinic Daze

〖Summary: Sometimes Carina doesn't have any choice but to work while sick, luckily Maya (and the a lumpy bed) are there to help her〗

〖Word Count: 1.6k〗

〖Pairing: Sick Carina x Maya〗

〖Notes: After watching s7e9 I needed some comfort, thank you for this ask. Also my hand started cramping up while I was finishing this so that's fun

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Carina sneezed into her mask and sniffled, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face as she tried to make sense of the chart sitting in her lap. She knew her report was hard to decipher; she just needed to be sure others could read it. She was done for the day, this was the last thing on her list and then she was going home, Maya had promised to take her home if she had to stay the whole day. 

“Carina, why are you still here?” The brunette looked up to see her wife striding over, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. Carina straightened automatically, feeling as though she was a small child being scolded. Maya had told her not to come to work and had been telling her to leave between patients. She sneezed twice instead of responding, the bursts coming in quick succession. 

“If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." The EMT said, her tone serious. When she had seen her this morning she had been slightly concerned for her health but as the day went on the ball of anxiety in her stomach grew. 

“They couldn’t get anyone else, I need to be here,” Carina replied, her voice grating and weary. She had laughed at Maya when the woman suggested that she not come into the clinic today, she hadn’t felt bad at all, just a bit run down. Another sneeze rattled her body and she ducked away, shame coloring her cheeks. She had been so wrong.

“You’ve really got the sniffles today, haven't you?” Maya said sympathetically, offering the doctor a tissue from the box sitting next to her. She accepted and pulled the mask down, revealing a mess of snot and a bright red nose. 

She tossed the mask in the trash, no longer having any use for it. The patients were gone and Maya was pretty much bound to get sick considering the two lived together, plus it had been ruined by her frequent sneezing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Maya paused and glanced down at her phone, relieved to see 5:00pm flashing across the screen. “Okay, the clinic's closed. Finish up whatever you’re doing right now and I’ll take you home, I don’t want you driving like this.” Carina nodded in silent agreement and grabbed another tissue, blowing her nose with a gurgling sound. 

Maya bent down and kissed her hairline, her lips meeting hot damp skin. The fever was an obvious next step but she needed to be confident it was there so that she could figure out what exactly she wanted to do to help her wife. 

Just as Carina tucked the file away and was about to stand up an alarm sounded throughout the station requesting the truck and aid car. Maya looked up helplessly as her team began to gear up, torn between staying to take care of Carina and going to do her job. 

“Bishop, we need you, let's go!” Andy shouted, noticing Maya’s hesitation. The captain glanced between her second and the obviously sick doctor and felt a prickle of guilt in the back of her neck. “Bishop, I’m sorry but we need you. Carina, go make yourself comfortable, we'll be back as soon as we can.”

“Go, it’s okay. I’ll wait here.” Carina rasped, punctuating the sentence with a grating cough. Maya pressed one last quick kiss to the top of her wife’s forehead and bolted towards the truck, gearing up at record speed. 

Carina watched in admiration as she leaped into the fire engine and sped away. She felt a little safer every time she watched 19 work together, the way they all moved with such confidence made her feel better not only about the safety of the people of Seattle but for the woman she loved. 

With a shaky sigh, Carina stood, wobbling slightly as she angled her body toward the stairs. It was technically a part of her job to clean up after clinic day but she was too dizzy and tired to think it worthy of her time. The firefighters could get in and out just fine which was all that she cared about. 

The brunette stumbled her way up the stairs, needing to pause halfway up to sit and catch her breath. She hadn’t been walking around much the last few hours, opting to roll around the bay of the station in a wheely chair. It had done wonders for keeping her young patients entertained and had been far faster than walking would have. 

The heat in her face and behind her eyes told Carina that she had a fever but she was freezing, her thin scrubs doing nothing to combat the chills raging through her body. The doctor in her knew that she should find a thermometer, take her temperature, and treat accordingly but the patient in her wanted to go crawl into bed and stay there until she felt better. 

She lurched toward the bunks, stopping off at Maya’s locker to snag a sweatshirt on her way. She decided that a doctor would probably also tell her to sleep so she would be listening to the imaginary doctor for the time being. 

After at least ten minutes of trying to remember which room Maya slept in, Carina found what she hoped was the right one and crawled into what she hoped was her wife’s bed. She figured that they couldn’t be too mad at her if she ended up in someone else's bed and if they were she could pull the fever card. 

Carina pulled the sweatshirt over her head and buried her face in the front, pretending to be held in Maya’s arms. It wasn't anywhere near the real thing but at least she had some piece of the medic there, something to hold. She curled up in the hard bed, drawing the blanket over herself. Part of her was worried about intruding in a space she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome but she felt too sick to do anything else.

A sudden clap of thunder crashed outside, making the sick woman flinch. She wasn’t afraid of storms but it had caught her off guard and the sudden shift in weather was disorienting. Had she been paying more attention to her surroundings she likely would’ve noticed the clouds rolling in and the steady rain that had begun over an hour ago but her delirious mind hadn’t been worrying about anything but staying awake. 

The thunderstorm came to be a welcome comfort that replaced her feverish thoughts about Maya’s safety and how cold she was. She wished that she had stolen a blanket from the laundry room before lying down. Soon that thought faded away too as the brunette sunk into the depths of sleep, her subconscious void of dreams leaving her in blissful quiet. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When Maya returned to the station she expected Carina to be eating dinner, watching TV, and maybe even still charting. They had only been gone a half hour, the fire had turned out to be a smoking toaster and the injury a minor burn. After giving the woman who had called them a lecture on when it was appropriate to call emergency services they had taken their leave, driving off into the storm. 

After searching every place she could think of Maya finally checked the bunks, wondering as she did so if her wife had left. She had never shown much interest in being in the living quarters of the station, actually taking great lengths to avoid intruding into the other firefighter's space. When she found Carina tucked into a little ball on her bed Maya understood how sick her wife must’ve been feeling.  

“Oh bella,” She whispered, sitting down on the bed beside her. She rested a palm on Carina's forehead, sucking in a breath at the heat she felt radiating from the doctor's skin. She pulled the hood of the sweatshirt down taking great care to not wake her up. Maya was touched that Carina had gone looking for something of hers for comfort but also felt guilty that she had left her alone.

“Is she okay?” Andy’s voice floated into the room, pulling Maya from the thoughts swirling around in her head. She shrugged and stroked Carina’s hair, eliciting a small whimper from the sleeping woman. 

“She will be. I wanted to give her a few more minutes of rest before I took her home.” Maya murmured, hesitating to wake her. Even on the uncomfortable mattress, wearing scrubs and a beat-up hoodie, this was the best she’d seen Carina sleep in weeks. She had been stressed about work and only averaging a few hours a night at best. 

“You can let her stay here if you’d like, the beds aren’t the most comfortable but it’s pretty bad outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got called in for a flooding rescue.” The last sentence was directed more towards Andy herself as she mused on how prepared they would need to be to deal with extreme weather circumstances. 

“Are you sure? I know she’s really not supposed to be here but it would be great if she could try to sleep some of this off uninterrupted.” Maya sat up a bit straighter, relief tinging her words. The idea of waking Carina up only to have to take her outside in the rain even for the walk to her car was something she would rather avoid.

Andy smiled slightly and nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Let me know if you need anything.” with that she walked away, leaving the blonde to care for the ailing doctor. 

“It’s not like you to get this sick,” Maya said to her still-sleeping wife, noticing a bit of drool in the corner of her open mouth. The way she was lying with her mouth open and nose wrinkled up she would’ve looked so silly if not for her illness. “Oh, I’m so using that for payback.” She snickered and took a quick picture before wiping the drool away and pressing a kiss to Carina’s temple. 

“Sleep well amore, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

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[agentbeeswrites]

It's a little late, but I missed @tallmatcha tagging me for WIP Wednesday after sharing her her gorgeous art of Michiru from Sailor Moon.

I'm not even sure if I'm going to use this, but it's a little thing I wrote that got me into the frame of mind to write my current Bishova fic, "We're Puzzle Pieces."

----------

“I told my therapist about you.”

Yelena looks at Kate with a raised eyebrow.

“You told your therapist about me?”

Kate waves her hand dismissively. “Not in detail, just that there’s someone I’ve been spending a lot of time with and some of the things we’ve done together.” She looks down at her drink and swirls it around to watch the last of the ice melt. “She thinks it’s been good for me.” She glances up at Yelena. “That you’ve been good for me.”

The blue in Kate’s eyes is like a storm—so many emotions battling in their depths. Yelena tries to swallow past a sudden knot in her throat.

“Kate…”

Sensing the tension from Yelena, Kate barrels forward with the conversation.

“Then she suggested that we do some physical activity together.” She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink.

There’s a pause while Yelena tries to read Kate’s face. Was it a joke? Was it more word vomit like the girl is prone to?

“Your therapist suggested we do physical activity together?” Yelena says slowly, her tone full of disbelief.

Kate just nods.

“What kind of therapist are you seeing, Kate Bishop?” Yelena smirks and plays with the straw in her glass. “One for a specific kind of physical activity?”

The way Kate’s face turns red and she sputters never ceases to amuse Yelena.

“What? No! Regular! She’s a regular therapist!”

She has no reason to hold the laughter in so she doesn’t. Yelena lets out a real laugh, one that has her wiping moisture from the corner of her eye.

“Ah, Kate Bishop. You are so funny. I will not be participating in your sex therapy.”

Her face turns even redder. Yelena wonders how much darker it can get without Kate keeling over.

“I’m not going to a sex therapist!” Kate puts her drink down with a clatter and crosses her arms.

“Aww, your pouting is adorable. Maybe I will reconsider one day.” Yelena reaches out to pinch Kate’s cheek. Her hand is swatted away.

“She suggested a dance class. God, you’re insufferable sometimes.”

[gabriel-shutterson]

Uhhhh! So I’m your secret Santa, @catboymettaton! Sorry for the wait! This is my first time ever writing anything NSFW, so it’s definitely not good. It’s definitely not my best writing, but I hope you like it :D

Checkmate

“Light-kun. Would you like to play chess?”

Light frowns, looking up from his Intro to Criminal Law homework to meet the owl-like gaze of a certain ‘Hideki Ryuga.’ L. “Chess?”

“Yes. Chess. I know that this library has a set downstairs.”

“I don’t see why not,” Light says, nonchalant. However, the gears in his head are whirring. What is he playing at? Chess? We’ve played tennis before— why chess all of a sudden? Could it be the more intellectual nature of chess? Kira kills strategically. Perhaps he’s trying to test whether or not I’M strategically inclined? But then—

“Perhaps,” Ryuga muses, chewing on his thumb, “we up the stakes a bit.”

“How so?”

A grin spreads across his— Ryuga’s, L’s— face. “Are you a gambling man, Light Yagami?”

“….what are you planning on doing?”

“There is a hotel within walking distance. We will play there.”

…

Now seated on a hotel room floor, Light twirls the black bishop between his fingers. “Please tell me why we walked all the way here to play chess, Ryuga.”

Ryuga hums, setting up the white side of the chess board. “I anticipated playing chess with you today. In fact, I planned it. Which is why I brought this.” Setting down the pawn he was holding, he pulls out a grey roll of duct tape.

Light frowns. “What is that for?”

“We have already clarified that I am L.”

“Yes.”

“We have also clarified that I believe you are Kira.”

“We have. Though I still am horrified by the very idea of being Kira.”

“Today, you will be interrogated.”

“And the tape…?”

“Each time I capture one of your pieces, I will be adding a restraint to you. That way, you will be gradually more inclined to tell the truth.”

“The stakes are… awfully high, considering the fact that I don’t have a win condition?”

“Mm…. You can do the same to me.”

Restraining L? Light fights a grin. I’ve dreamt about this moment.

Rather than smirking, he nods and finishes setting up the black pieces. “Your move.”

Ryuga moves his pawn to D4. Light hesitates, before moving his own pawn to D5. Ryuga then moves another pawn to C4.

Queen’s gambit, Light thinks, drumming his fingers on the side of the board. Interesting. You’re on, L.

Nothing interesting happens until at least ten moves into the game. Ten moves into the game, Ryuga takes Light’s knight at C6.

Dammit! Light’s head is buzzing. I let him get me. Now he’s winning, and I’m going to be—

The sound of duct tape ripping puts his thoughts to an end.

Ryuga stands and walks over. “We’ll begin with your ankles. Something less severe.”

“How thoughtful,” Light deadpans, as the first piece of tape wraps around his ankles.

“Try moving your feet.” He attempts to move his feet, to no avail. Ryuga pats his head. “Good boy.”

To his horror, Light feels his face flush and his cock harden. For L??? No. No, this can’t be! He hasn’t even done anything remotely attractive!

“It’s your move,” Ryuga says. His eyes briefly dart down towards Light’s dick. He raises an eyebrow. “If, of course, you’re able.”

“I’m fine,” Light hisses, pushing a pawn forward.

…

Several moves later, Light earns his retribution, and captures one of Ryuga’s pawns.

“Hm.” Ryuga bites his thumb thoughtfully. “I have a feeling you don’t particularly want to restrain me.”

Light laughs. “Excuse me? Sure I do.”

“There is a 40% chance you do not.”

“Based on what evidence?”

Ryuga looks back down at Light’s cock, and gives him a smirk. His second smile in a day— unusual.

“That’s— irrelevant. Unrelated.”

“Perhaps I should look at your bondage in a different light.” Once again, Ryuga walks over to Light, grabs him by the hair, and forces him to look him in the eye. “What do you want me to do to you, Light-kun?”

Light feels himself heat up, feels beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead, and feels his dick stand up even straighter than before— if that’s possible. “I-I want you to leave me alone and finish the game-“

“False.”

“False? You say that with such certainty—“

“Because I am certain.” A pause. “I have never had sex with a criminal.”

“I- I’m not Kira—“

“Make me doubt my suspicion, then. Let me fuck you in the ass, Light Yagami.”

Light’s jaw drops. I- wh- L? What is he SAYING? How is this going to convict me?? And why do I WANT it??

“May I tape your wrists?”

“I-“ Ryuga lets go of Light’s hair, unbuttons and removes his shirt, and tapes his wrists behind his back before he can finish speaking. The room is cold, but Light is warm enough that he doesn’t feel it.

“I will leave your mouth free. I will be recording this entire event. I want to hear you scream a confession.”

“Fuck you,” Light says. His voice, however, says ‘fuck me.’ “I’m not Kira.”

“Mm….. I’m taking your pants off.” With that, Light is naked. “Lay on your stomach, Light-kun.”

Light sends him a glare as he lays down. “That’s not going to be comfortable.”

“Good.”

…

Some twenty minutes later, 32 chess pieces are scattered about the room. Ryuga rubs Light’s bare shoulders, muttering about how well he did. All duct tape has been removed. No confessions were given.

Perhaps if the game was finished, there would be a clear winner. For now, both men feel they are the winner.

[beaconfeels]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you to the marvelous @lucky-bishop for the tag this week. I’m tagging @clareguilty @nickcharleswife @punchedbymarkesmith and @mirrorthoughts if any of you are working on something you want to share :) Here’s a random snippet from a steter fic I’m working on:

Christmas is bittersweet for Stiles. He loves it, but there’s always an edge of sadness to it too. He supposes it’s probably that way for everyone who has lost people, and even a lot of people who haven’t.

When he was younger, he tried to cover it up with frantic, jolly energy. Dragging his dad or his friends to multiple holiday events, laughing too loud, drinking too much spiked eggnog, and buying extravagant gifts he couldn’t afford for crushes who didn’t appreciate him.

It’s different now. In the past couple years he’s let himself feel it more, and the holiday season has settled down into something less sparkling, but also more genuine.

Right now he’s meandering through the woods with Derek, looking for things to use for a wreath.

Derek’s carrying a big straw basket with a red and green plaid bow on the handle to put things in. It’s adorable. He loves that his alpha is a Christmas nerd, and he loves even more that he’s able to enjoy the holiday again after so many years of pain.

“So, are you and Chris going to do anything over Christmas?” Stiles asks.

Derek’s cheeks immediately flush. He always blushes when Stiles asks about them at all. It’s hilarious.

“Allison is going to hang out with some friends on Christmas Eve so uh, he invited me over.”

“Ooooh Christmas Eve together? That sounds seeeerious,” Stiles teases.

“Do you think so?” Derek asks, looking kind of terrified.

“Would that be a bad thing?”

Derek looks down and smiles a little, cheeks flushing even more red. “I don’t- it would- it’s cool,” he finishes lamely.

Stiles laughs as he picks up a particularly nice pine cone and adds it to the basket. “Hey, I’m happy for you, you know? You deserve it.”

“I like him a lot,” Derek admits, that shy smile growing even as he still refuses to meet Stiles’s eyes.

His alpha is such a marshmallow under all that leather. He loves it.

“Hey, what do you get someone for Christmas who can buy themselves whatever they want?” Stiles asks a few minutes later.

“Thinking about Peter?” Derek asks.

“What? No. I mean. I didn’t say that.”

“Uh huh. Well I think that ‘someone’ would like something personal from you. Something he—I mean ‘they’ since obviously I have no idea who this mysterious person is—couldn’t just buy with money.”

“I take it back. You’re not adorable at all.”

Derek’s eyebrows lift. “You never said that in the first place.”

“Well I thought it,” Stiles says, pouting, “and now I’m taking it back.”

“What a tragedy,” Derek says, “However will I get over it?”