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horsechestnut · 8 months

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Reverse Robins!

But specifically Stephanie and Tim (with a little Jason added when it's relevant).

Note: I'm of the opinion that in Reverse Robin AUs they wouldn't actually use Robin as their code name, but for convince and clarity's sake I will be using it here.

Damian is gone. He left in a blaze of anger. They'd fought before, but this time came with a finality Bruce doesn't known how to handle.

Batman is spiraling. Without Damian around there's no need to be Bruce Wayne, no reason not to follow one more lead before turning in. No young eyes looking to him to be an example. Nothing to keep him from beating the bad guys into a comma.

Tim Drake has been watching Bruce Wayne for awhile. He's been watching Batman for longer. He saw the turn, the way the Wayne Foundation is slowly being corrupted without Bruce's over site, and the more extreme injuries criminals are coming in with. He looks at Bruce Wayne and Batman, and the man behind them both and thinks "Yeah, I can fix that." Maybe it's teenage nativity, maybe it's a drive to do something good, maybe it's the need to be in control of something in his life. Whatever it is, he acts on it.

Bruce doesn't want to let Tim be Robin. Damian was his son, and a trained assassin, Tim is a random kid with no formal training. But Tim is a random kid who figured out his identity and is actively blackmailing him with it, so he doesn't have many options.

Batman and Robin are back together. Bruce Wayne is back in board meetings. The criminals are getting a lot less bruises. Robin is far more impressive than Batman ever would have guessed he could be. Tim is falling asleep in math class, but he already knows it all anyway so it's barely worth mentioning.

There's a new vigilante in Gotham. One who sets a dangerous precedent. It's one thing for Batman to have allies, it's another for outside agents to start taking matters into their own hands. Especially when they're untrained teenagers who are looking for personal vengeance.

He does everything he can to get Spoiler to quit. He tells himself it's not just about his personal dislike of her, it's for the sake of every other misguided kid who might try to follow her lead.

He fails.

The Joker attacks Robin. He doesn't kill him, he has a worse fate in mind. He takes Batman's prodigy and makes him his own. Tries to prove that even the Bat's closest ally can be corrupted if he has a bad enough day. He succeeds, and for one terrifying night The Batman faces off against Joker Jr.

Tim survives, but he's not the same. It takes months for his injuries to heal, and even then he's haunted by what Joker turned him into. Terrified that he could snap again at the wrong moment. He tells Bruce he can't be in the field anymore, it's to big of a risk. He promises Batman he'll find another way to help.

Cluemaster is dead. He died on a suicide mission. No matter how Steph feels about it personally, logically she knows Gotham is safer without him around. Part of her can't help being relieved, and she doesn't hate that part of herself as much as she knows she should. There's no longer any need for The Spoiler.

There's an opening for Robin and Steph wants the job. Wants to prove she can do it. That she's just as good as Tim. That she's not her father. That she can make a father proud.

Batman doesn't want Stephanie. He wants Tim. But maybe Stephanie is a way to get there. To make Tim jealous enough to come back.

Bruce tells himself it's for Tim's own good. Stephanie's too. Tim needs the push, needs to be Robin again so he can overcome his fear about being the field. And Stephanie needs the training, and the focus now that Cluemaster is gone.

Robin tries, she really does. She does everything Batman asks of her, always. Except once. And once is all it takes. Robin is fired, but as she leaves the cave Stephanie grabs on to one last desperate chance to prove herself. Batman never intended for the file to be used, but Stephanie doesn't know that. Batman didn't tell her. He never told her anything.

The war that erupts is unlike anything Gotham has ever seen.

Damian comes home. It's not for Bruce. It's for Gotham, for the city that took him in despite everything.

Batman isn't listening to Oracle. He's cutting him off, overriding his systems, and treating him like nothing more than a glorified phone operator. Tim can't just do nothing. Not when his city is burning.

Black Mask captures Spoiler, and nobody notices.

Robin is back on the scene. He's reluctant at first, but once he starts it's like a switch flips. The moves are second nature, the danger is exhilarating. It isn't a game, but part of him can't help relishing it all the same. He can't remember why he stopped.

Spoiler manages to get free. She manages to ambush Black Mask. She manages to pin him to the ground, gun pointed at his head. But Steph can't pull the trigger. Two months ago she would have, but now Batman's voice is in her head. She can't let him down. Not again.

Stephanie hesitates, and in that moment Black Mask breaks her hold. He gets his gun back. There's no moral code running though the back of his head. He doesn't hesitate.

Gotham is safe. Batman did his job. Damian is back. Robin is in the field again. But Bruce is haunted by what happened. Damian is injured, Tim has nightmares, and Stephanie...

Jason Todd isn't new to being poor. He knows how to be hungry, how to fend for himself. But he is new to being homeless. The gang war left lots of kids in the Narrows orphaned, of course some of them were going to fall through the cracks, and Jason happens to be one of them. Maybe it's for the best. He's heard how the Gotham Foster System treats kids. Maybe he's better off on his own. He just needs to find a way to make some money.

Batman descends with all the furry he's been holding in. But instead of an overconfident car thief, he finds a twelve year old boy desperately clutching a tire iron, trying to seem angry instead of scared.

Bruce recognizes something in him that he can't fully explain. He takes Jason back to the manor. Gives him a home. Does everything he can to keep him away from the cave.

That lasts about two weeks.

Jason wants to give back to his community, to make sure kids don't have to deal with the shit he had to deal with. He wants to thank Bruce for helping him. He wants to be nothing like his dad. He wants to make his new father proud.

Damian is against it. Tim is against it. Bruce is against it. Jason is insistent. He decides to take matters into his own hands, to steal an old Robin suit and sneak out after the others have left. It doesn't go well. He thinks he's blown his chance, but to his surprise Batman relents. If he doesn't Jason will find a way to do it on his own, and he won't let another kid go out untrained.

Tim goes back to Oracle. The way he felt the night of the gang war still scares him sometimes, reminds him to much of Batman back when they first met. Guilt washes over him whenever ever he thinks about it. How happy he'd been, all well Steph...

He should have been in the Clock Tower that night. Should have been keeping better tabs on all of them. He should have known she was missing in action, should have been monitoring her suit's location or trying to reach out instead of just listening when Batman said not to involve her. So if there's a new kid running around in the suit, their suit, he's going to make sure this one is safe.

Robin is good. Really good. He's to angry, he's rash, he's impulsive. But he learns fast, and he seems to almost fly over Gotham. He fits the role in a way Tim never truly did.

Black Mask is dead, and someone else is using his name. Someone who's dismantling the Gotham underworld piece by piece.

Steph has a duty to the people she hurt, a duty Batman will never understand, and one she has to handle her way. Batman stopped the war, but he didn't stop the gangsters. He didn't stop Black Mask, or Scareface, or any of the others. It's not about what they did to her. She deserved it. It was her own fault. But so many others suffered because of them, because of her, and Batman did nothing to stop it. So she will.

Black Mask isn't planning to confront Batman. She doesn't care about him. She's done seeking his approval and following his rules. Doing that got her killed. It got other people killed. But there's another Robin running around, and someone needs to explain that. Steph knows by now that she was never really Robin, it was all just a trick to get Tim back. A trick that worked. So who the hell is this kid? Is he like Tim, someone Batman will keep safe, or is he just another pawn he'll sacrifice the second it's covenant? And when she finally gets around to asking, she lets more slip than she should have.

Batman knows the truth, but that's okay. It was only a matter of time before he did, and it doesn't change anything. Bruce tries to appeal to her, but what can he possibly say that could make a difference? That he's sorry?

He is, but it's to late for that. Stephanie knows the truth. She knows he never took her seriously. She knows he never trusted her. She knows it was all a game, and that in the end Batman got what he wanted even if not in the way he intended. And Bruce can't argue, because she's right. He created her, and he knows it.

Stephanie Brown is dead. She died in Leslie's clinic. She died because her doctor decided teaching Batman a lesson was worth more than her life. A lesson he didn't even bother to learn. She died because she listened to Batman even though he never bothered to listen to her. And she died because Batman used her as a chess piece. Because he wrote her off before she'd even properly begun.

Black Mask is not Cluemaster. She refuse to ever be her father. But she's not Batman either. He never gave her the chance to be. She's something else. Something between those two extremes. Something that's fully hers. She's going to protect the people Batman's to busy to care about, and if she has to kill a few people along the way, so be it. She's not playing by his rules anymore. She never will again.

Black Mask is Batman's greatest failure. Not because she died, but because he never took the time to teach her how to live.

Stephanie is Bruce's biggest regret. Not because she died, but because he didn't care about her until she did.

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ceilingfan5 · 1 year

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@taznovembercelebration jewelry or blanket

He’s beautiful like this, much more than he is all done up in gold and jewels and velvet. All relaxed and warm and loose, he’s so much more human. Taako can almost forget what that crown he wears stands for, what that blood fluttering in his pulse is meant to represent. Who his mother is, and her mother before that, and so on, back so long ago there was still magic in ordinary people.

Taako can almost be in love with him.

He shouldn’t be. It’s terrible. It’s like getting fond of the pig you’re meant to slaughter. Taako should have named him Bacon, instead of lover, instead of confidant, and absolutely not friend. What a situation he’s planted himself in, and what a number the soil is doing for his aching roots. He can’t have it both ways. You can’t have a revolution without cracking a few skulls, even ones as pretty as Kravitz’s.

It’ll be worth it, he promises himself, seeing Lup’s face like the sun burned into his eyes. The heavenly body in his arms begs to differ, even blissfully unaware as he is. He’s such a fool, and what’s worse is how fond that makes Taako. He desperately wants to teach him to make stew with game he caught himself, wants to see him in much simpler clothes and no paint on his face, he wants to stroll to the wishing well and barter for two wishes answered with one coin, one kiss, one promise.

He shakes his head to clear the wool, soft as it is, clinging to his better senses, and Kravitz startles from dozing, the blanket sliding further off of him. Prince Kravitz, although since last night’s ball, he’s insisted Taako drop the title. It’s shattered like glass, jeweled and deadly in the thick carpets. Taako’s terribly afraid of what he’ll find where he steps, as dark as it is.

“Something wrong, love?” he murmurs, soft, so fucking soft, everything about royals is so soft, and Taako’s hands are rough enough to snag at everything he touches. His stomach roils, and Taako begs it not to.

“Not a single thing,” he replies, which is less of a lie. It’s certainly not–it’s his sister, whom he hopes, horribly, is still in the dungeon where he left her, it’s the kingdom, starving and yearning for magic, it’s his allies, waiting for him to do the dirtiest job he’ll ever wash off his hands, it’s the trust in those sweet brown eyes, lonely for so long and hoping he’s the answer. You’ve asked the wrong question, he wants to say, and he wants to shake the sense into him as he does. No. You’ve asked no questions at all. How can he accept this? How can he be so complicit every time he breaks bread, dresses, shits- Taako could scream.

“Oh,” Kravitz says, and smiles, and Taako’s whole heart hurts. How is he meant to ruin this? How could he possibly follow through on the assassination? Even if he somehow got away and wasn’t executed publicly, how would he live with himself? “You just seemed…tangled.”

“Tangled,” Taako sighs, and he can’t help but laugh. “Perhaps.”

“Well,” Kravitz says, tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Perhaps I can help you relax.”

He’s beautiful. There’s not a soul out there that could possibly match. Taako almost has to kill him, so no one else can take this place, warming him so thoroughly he melts like a delicacy in a pocket, kept as a treasure and lost as one too.

“How in the world would you do that, my prince?”

“Perhaps I could weave you a tale.”

“I’d like to see you weave anything,” Taako can’t help. It just slips out. Kravitz, to his credit, just laughs.

“Cloth, certainly not. But I have quite the imagination. Perhaps- indulge me, won’t you?”

“If I must,” Taako snickers.

“Perhaps,” Kravitz valiantly ignores him. “You and I eloped.” Taako’s heart is in his throat, where it does not live. It feels like a frog trying to escape his mouth. He never should have swallowed the damn thing in the first place. “Perhaps we eloped, and ran away to the seaside, and lived in a little cabin by the beach, and perhaps we rode horses on the sand in the morning and cuddled by a crisp fire in the evening and spent the middle of the day as we pleased.”

“Horses and fire, non-negotiable,” Taako says, heart croaking. “Got it.”

“You seem like a fine rider to me!” Kravitz laughs. “Perhaps I shouldn’t make assumptions. Perhaps you ride like a turnip tied to a dog.”

“I ride like a thief in the night,” Taako whispers, and to prevent himself from saying anything else, he kisses Kravitz, long and deep and quieting.

“I’d like to see it,” Kravitz manages, before there’s no room for words anymore. Taako’s grateful. And absolutely ruined.

The time will come when he’ll have to stain his hands. Can’t they stay busy a little longer?

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #taz b #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #taznc

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marvelswinterfrost · 7 months

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Force of Gravity - Chpt. 1

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: After the magician performs his last trick, it's time to go home. So when Loki plays his last card, he needs someone to protect him from the dangers of the realms. There is nowhere left to go but earth where he is looking for someone just as broken as him.

This story does not follow certain MCU plots after CACW - Bucharest.

... Barnes looked at him rather curiously.

"For someone in need of protection, you don't seem to be frightened." he growled as he mustered the man in front of him. He was taller, sure, but slimmer than he was, and probably weaker as well from how he looked. Not everyone had the perks of having a metal arm and super human strength.

"I suppose you are correct." Loki, as the man had claimed his name to be, said with a small but indeed noticable chuckle. It seemed to be genuine but had some arrogance to it. Seeing as he wore a nice suit with shiny, pointy shoes, Barnes thought it to be quite fitting.

"Listen, I don't know who you think I am, but I am not a bodyguard. Nor an assassin. I don't do these kind of jobs. And I don't kill people. You have to go and find someone else." Barnes said and tried to walk away once again. But instead of letting him past, Loki grabbed his upper arm with an unexpected strength. Barnes' look was alarmed, his eyes fixated on the big, veiny hand that gripped his biceps tightly. A barely audible 'what the hell' escaped the brown haired man's lips.

"But you used to." was all he said. Loki's voice wasn't cold. It was warm and his eyes seemed to softly glow in the afternoon sun. Despite the words bringing harsh and painful memories back to the soldier, he didn't feel as threatened as he thought he should be.

There hung a long silence between them.

"Please." to James it almost seemed like he was starting to desperately beg. The man in front of him tried his best to hide his fear but in the end his eyes betrayed him.

Barnes took a deep breath but nodded.

"Fine." His eyes narrowed and his head close to Loki's, he whispered threatingly. "But if I find out you are not who you told me to be, I will kill you myself."

With a sigh of relief, Loki nodded understandlingly. A few "thank you"s left the mans lips as he trotted after Barnes, supposedly taking him somewhere save.

After a while of walking, Barnes looked over his shoulder, making sure that his new dependent was still following him. As suspicious as he still was of this strange man, the thrill of being in charge pleased him immensely. It has been a while since anyone had come to him for help let alone ask him to play a personal bodyguard.

"You need to keep up."

"Yes, very well." Loki said as he jogged to Barnes' position. But the man in front of him didn't slow down.

"Would you be so kind and tell me where we are going?" Loki asked. To be fair, it was a valid question since he stood under Barnes' protection after all. Not knowing where they are headed was indeed reckless.

"Somewhere save." was the only answer he got.

They arrived at a run down apartment complex. Some of the windows were shattered and covered with plywood and paint that looked like it had been on the building for over 100 years was chipping off the wall in various places. They walked up the stairs, that seemed to never end, until they reached an old apartment door.

"We're here." Barnes said as he pulled a single key out of his pocket. The door creaked but didn't open fully due to something blocking it. They squeezed past it, entering a one bedroom apartment, that didn't have a single furniture in it. The only thing was an old matress on the floor. The windows were covered with newspapers from months ago.

"You can not be serious." Loki said in disbelieve. How could this man promise him safety when this - disgusting - room was in plain sight and easily accessible for everyone?

"This?! This is how you want to keep me save?! This is outrageous!"

"We're not gonna be save if you keep yelling like that. Be quiet." Barnes took his cap off and put the earlier bought plums onto a makeshift table made from a cardboard box.

"This apartment is disgusting!"

"But your only option from what it looks like."

"You promised to keep me save." Loki was on the edge of hopelessness. But Barnes remained silent. He opened the brown bag and pulled out two plums. He took one and carefully placed it onto the cardboard table and ate the other. For a short while everything was silent. Loki was still standing in the middle of the apartment, waiting for Barnes to explain himself and this joke he was brought into. But nothing came. He just kept staring at Loki.

"Alright, if you are certain, I think I need to trust you." Loki said defeated. He hated the fact that he had to accept... well...this.. but as Barnes had said, this was his only option and he couldn't take any risk.

Bucky was still silent but offered Loki the second plum with a mere glance. A little irritated and still furious, he grabbed it and inspected it.

"You need to lose your suit." Barnes said seemingly out of nowhere.

"Excuse me?" Loki asked in disbelieve, not liking the dorection this was headed in.

"It draws attention. We need to avoid it. It's best for you to change your look entirely. Cut your hair, change into normal clothes and look less like you're about to make a billion in finances."

"Absolutely not. You will not touch my hair."

"Suit yourself then." Barnes said and walked past Loki with an uncaring look. It really wasn't his problem if this man's stuborn mind wanted to act up. He threw away the plum's core into a plastic bag that probably was his trash bin.

"I can't believe I - a god - am forced to do this." he complained once again. But that sentence caught Barnes off guard.

"A what?" he scoffed. "I figured you had some sort of god complex but I didn't know it was this bad." at this point Barnes had to laugh. The conversations with this man seemed to get more and more ridicolous.

"I AM a god, you fool."

"Then why don't you protect yourself? I am sure a god can do that just fine."

Loki was silent. Yes... he could have, if he hadn't been getting weaker and weaker by day. Although there was still some magic and power inside of him, it was far from where it had been. He used to be above any midgardian, as it should be.

"Your midgardian brain wouldn't comprehend, Sargent Barnes." he said, staring at the floor. The heat in his tone was gone, replaced with painful memories.

But Barnes remained silent. He didn't know what to say. Loki seemed to share some of his pain but hid it behind his arrogance. So maybe he should let Loki play god a little and feed his own illusions.

"So you say that me changing my appearance will keep me save?" Loki interrupted his thoughts, sounding a little bit more hopeful then before, although still annoyed.

"It won't insure it, but it will help."

With a nod, Loki straightened his back. A green light engolfed his slender form and blinded Barnes in the process. Once the light vanished, James opened his eyes again. The once snobby looking man with long black hair that stood in front of him was now clothed in a simple black hoodie, with black jeans. His hair was now shoulder length but still looked greasy. The fancy shoes he wore were replaced with regular black sneakers as well. Loki hated it.

"My god." James whispered. Maybe this strange man really was a higher being.

"Well, if you want me to be." Loki said with a smug grin.

TBC

...

Prologue

#winterfrost #loki #marvel #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky #fanfiction #bucky/loki #lokixbucky

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yellowfingcr · 1 year

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Share with me about what Heysel's 'principles of killing' beyond the work load aspect of it concerning her profession in her ER verse.

“It is considered impolite to answer a question with another question, but I am impolite and coarse that way, and so I must start with exactly that. What do you think those principles are? Which finds its synonym in: what do you believe murder does for me, really? Am I a natural-born sadist? Unhinged, maladjusted, guilty from the beginning, a poison seed grown blade-branched and hollow-hearted? Am I an animal? Or does it make me slick between the thighs? Is it a dark temptation, perhaps, to resist- an impulse to subsume, a test of my humanity that I am proposed daily? Am I just blessed with a child’s lack of conscience? Or do I deem life so cheap that to take one is a kind of mild vice to indulge on occasion, like smoke, expensive dishes?”

“Regardless of whichever your answer is, which needn’t feature among those I’ve listed, please, feel free to tell me. I’m ever curious. But I can say as much, for what I know of myself: the most honest most naked boned principle is that I do what I do because I’m very good at doing what I do, and I truly do not see myself doing much else. Had I been of artistic disposition I would have been a painter and had I been a finer cook I would have been a chef. But I’m not. I could learn, I suppose, to do a different duty. The thing is- I like my job! I always did! How to undo another is a riddle I so delight in solving. And the solution to it is among the truest things to exist. And if any living being armed with enough conviction can kill another it takes something more to assassinate. Mind me, I’m not one of those that selected her contracts based on the amount of challenge they posed, though sure, sure, I am mere flesh and I would find myself thrilled at succeeding at a difficult task. So. No. I could not sieve my choice through the excitement promised, or the money granted. The fame bestowed, sometimes. I had to consider the fact that me, Goldfinch, had to be known, and known in positive if frightened notes. Though it pains me to admit it there was also the filter of my own morals. Personally, though, I most enjoyed being vehicle of vengeance for the obscenely wealthy who had never before been so proximate to the threat of the end. It was all so absurd. A little pathetic. Certainly risible. Let’s call it funny, frankly. I am simple. I just enjoy bringing surprises. Those sorts do look at you as you sink the knife inside their throat with still sheer disbelief- this cannot happen to them. It’s not real. They’re not about to die. Poor bastards die. They’re noble-blooded. And yet."

"You know; when I was in my adolescent years and before any formal training I struck a very large man with a bottle. I had my reasons. Among those the fact that he was behaving in a certain manner because he thought nobody would have stopped him. And as it burst like a firework into a thousand green shards against his temple, well, I almost laughed. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect me to try to stab him with what remained of the bottle in my hand either.”

“But I digress. I’ve been wearing the black leathers for decades and loved every day of it. The world is now a wheezing ruin for sure fairly deprived of delectable contracts to offer me but oh, it was never quite about money, was it? If I’m called to be exquisitely violent be it through spell or knife I am happy to oblige. I put heart in this. I do this with passion. Shouldn't we all do what we love?”

#derjaegermond #You might find all this unsatisfying. I'm frequently disappointing!#er au

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readingforsanity · 1 year

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Mockingjay | Suzanne Collins | Published 2010 | *SPOILERS*

Young Katniss Everdeen has survived the dreaded Hungers Games not once, but twice, but even now she can find no relief. In fact, the dangers seem to be escalating.

President Snow has declared an all-out war on Katniss, her family, her friends, and all the oppressed people of District 12. The thrill-packed final installment of Suzanne Collins’ trilogy will keep young hearts pounding.

The final book in the Hunger Games series leads us to Katniss leading the rebels in their war against the Capitol. She starts off slowly, simply doing propos, or videos, showing her either in simulated combat and/or dressed up the nines to get the Capitol’s attention. It isn’t until she is actually involved in a heavy comabt situation in District 8 that her involvement begins to really come out.

With Gale, Finnick, other members of District 13′s militarized community, they begin to wage the true war on the Capitol. Eventually, Johanna Mason and Peeta Mellarck are saved from the Capitol. Johanna is simply unlike herself, relying on heavy drug usage to get through the day. But Peeta is completely transformed into someone different, changed by the Capitol to want to kill Katniss on sight.

Members of District 13 help to repair his damaged mind, and in the end, it begins working. He simply can’t remove what’s fake from what’s real.

Katniss and a group infiltrate the Capitol eventually, and along the way, she loses several of her friends, including Finnick. However, once the rebels have secured the Capitol and President Snow is captured, Katniss visits him after the death of her sister Prim. He informs her that it was not the Capitol that released the parachutes that exploded that lead to her sisters untimely death, but that of the rebels, and even worse, it was something that Gale had designed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what she expected to happen, and neither was it Gale’s intention. But Katniss cannot remove Gale from what had happened, therefore their friendship ceases to exist.

When President Snow is going to be publicly executed, Katniss recalls the converstion they had, where Snow informed her that it was always President Coin’s intent to remove him from his candidacy and take over the Capitol for things to continue just as they had been. Snow had promised to never lie to her, therefore she realizes that he was telling the truth. When she was meant to be executing Snow per her conditions on becoming the Mockingjay, she instead assassinates President Coin. Snow eventually dies, though it isn’t clear how.

Katniss and Haymitch are returned to District 12 to begin rebuilding it, and eventually Peeta returns as well. Slowly, they begin to form the relationship they were always meant to have.

In the end, the Hunger Games cease to exist and everyone is living in their free worlds. Gale has a job in District 2, and Peeta and Katniss remain in District 12, along with Haymitch because it is their home. They are married, and do have two children, a little boy and a little girl. The history of the games are taught in schools, and eventually she will teach her children about what happened, though she discusses it with them delicately now.

Discussion Questions

1. What is Katniss’s greatest challenge when she returns to see the ruins of her home? What is the meaning of the rose she finds on her dresser? Why does she keep repeating facts about herself? The repetition of facts to herself is to keep reminding her of what is right in front of her. The concussion she received in the previous book makes it difficult for her to concentrate, and it hasn’t quite healed by the time she returns to 12. It’s her way of focusing. The rose on the dresser means that Snow is still after her, and I think he was ultimately trying to warn her of Coin’s true intention. But, her greatest challenge is believing that everything that had happened was her fault, when in truth, none of it was her fault and once again, they were pieces in the Capitol’s games.

2. Why does Katniss take the cat Buttercup back to District 13? What role does Buttercup play in the story in later chapters? Buttercup is a main character within this story. She returns with him to District 13 initially for Prim. Prim would have been lost without him if he hadn’t survived the bombing. Katniss feels the need to return her sisters beloved pet. But, eventually, he does help keep the citizens of District 13 calm when they are forced to move deeper underground after the Capitol bombs them, and then once Katniss returns to 12, so does Buttercup in hopes of finding Prim, but only to realize that Katniss and Buttercup need each other.

3. What is the first reaction Katniss has to the people of District 13? What makes her say, “In some ways District 13 is even more controlling than the Captiol”? District 13 is a sort of military base. Schedules must be followed to a T, though Katniss rarely does this. Everything is down to the hour, and to the minute almost. She finds everyone fairly welcoming. It isn’t easy for their community to be overrun with so many refugees at once, but they make do with what they have.

4. What influences her decision to become the Mockingjay? Why does Katniss have to ask for conditions once she agrees to take on the role of Mockingjay? Her decision is because she knows that if she didn’t do anything, the Capitol would still win in the long run and all of her attempts would have been in vain. She doesn’t want to call for a cease-fire, because either way, someone she loved would have ended up hurt or dead, and she figured fighting for a cause would be better than being a sitting duck. However, she still desperately wants to save people, thus asking for the conditions that she did.

5. Discuss the feelings between Katniss and Coin. Why do they distrust each other from the beginning? How does Coin treat the conditions that Katniss demands for being the Mockingjay? Is Katniss really a threat to Coin’s power? Coin is sincerely threatened by Katniss. Katniss has influence on many people, and Coin only has influence on her people. Katniss has influence over several people across all of the districts and even within the Capitol. She really was a threat to Coin’s attempt at power.

6. Compare the reactions of Katniss and Gale to the imprisonment and treatment of Katniss’s prep team, Venia, Octavia and Flavius. How does this reflect on both of them? What is the difference between the prep team and the filming crew - Cressida, Mesalla, Castor and Pollux - who are also from the Capitol? Gale can understand why they were held captive while Katniss is appalled at their treatment. While they were from the Capitol, they did not need to be treated under such harsh conditions. However, Katniss’ prep team is treated differently from the other TV film crew members because the TV crew members weren’t completely riddled by the Capitol’s influence while the prep team was fully immersed in it.

7. What was necessary for Katniss to create a truly effective propo for the rebellion? Why didn’t the first idea work? Why does Haymitch say, “That is how a revolution dies?” After the taping in District 8, what does Katniss mean when he says, “I have a kind of power I never knew I possessed?” Katniss was never one to be scripted. She needed her own influence in order to make the right choices. When she was faking it, it never came off as sincere. But, when she was being her true self, she was able to touch a lot of people in the long run. Katniss eventually realizes that a lot of people are watching her and counting on her to be the face of the rebellion.

8. Discuss the role of television propaganda in today’s society and the techniques that are used to influence our thinking. How do these techniques compare to those used by the Capitol and the rebels in Mockingjay? It may be because it’s late, but I’m not entirely sure. It’s drilled in us that things are bad for us, like smoking is bad for you. Candy will eventually rot out your teeth. These are all things we believe to be true because of what is told to us on a near daily basis. I believe the same goes for the propos they filmed. They want to see Katniss in action because they believed it would keep those still in the fight wanting to fight for the justice they has people and humans deserved.

9. Why did Plutarch cover up Katniss and Gale’s insubordination in District 8 during the taping? What is the effect of the propo on the rebellion in other districts? Why are the propos so vital to the rebellion? What affect does Katniss and the Mockingjay symbolism have on those fighting against the Capitol and those in the Capitol? In all honesty, I don’t think the propos had the effect that they were hoping for. I think Plutarch was so into his idea of entertainment, especially as Head Gamemaker, that he kept up the charade because he didn’t know what else to do. However, since the Districts appear to be so spaced out from each other that it akes days upon days to get from one to the other, that they want the world to see. Almost like a news story.

10. Discuss the role of music in this book. What is the signifiance of the Hanging Tree song? How many ways does the song play a part in the story? How does it connect Katniss and Peeta to their past and their future? Research the song Strange Fruit sung by Billie Holiday and discuss its similarities and differences to Katniss’s song. The Hanging Tree is about death and trying to find purpose in the death that makes it most significant and why Katniss relates so closely to it.

11. Discuss the changing nature of the relationship between Katniss and Gale. What does Gale say is the only way I get your attention? Did Katniss ever love Gale the way he wants her to love him? Does he truly love her? I think Katniss and Gale loved the idea of each other, but they weren’t right for each other. They had things in common, such as being responsible for their families at such young ages when they should have been enjoying their childhoods, but ultimately, they had to grow up very quickly. But Gale was always going to be onto bigger things, whether that have been in District 12 or otherwise. Did they love each other? I’m sure of it, but not in the way that people wanted them to leave each other.

12. Discuss the changing nature of Prim’s role in the story, as she grows older. Identify times when Prim helps Katniss when no one else can. Prim is the only constant in Katniss’ life that isn’t changing. Obviously physically she is, but Prim has always been a place of solace for Katniss. Katniss would do anything, including dying, for her. However, Prim is quickly growing up just liek Katniss had no choice. She has seen a lot due to her duties as their mother’s assistant as a healer, and that can make anyone of any age weary of things.

13. Why do the rebels decide to rescue Peeta? Discuss the effects of the hijacking of Peeta’s brain. Discuss Katniss’s comment, “It’s only now that he’s been corrupted that I can fully appreciate the real Peeta.” What is the significance of the pearl she keeps? Katniss holds onto the pearl because it is the constant reminder of what Peeta was like before the hijacking. Peeta was subjected to having his memories altered with the use of tracker venom, and within that, he began associating Katniss with fear and loathing instead of love. But, the rebels rescue Peeta because they know it’s the only thing that Katniss would have wanted, and so that she would continue her reign as the mockingjay.

14. Why are Finnick and Johanna important to Katniss? discuss her relationship to each of them and how they help her prepare for the final fight. What is the effect of Finnick’s propo about his treatment by President Snow. Johanna and Finnick are the only two people in District 13 who understand fully what she has gone through with the Games. However, Johanna and Finnick were subjected more as victors than Katniss was ever able to endure. The rebellion ultimately kept her from experiencing the fates that they had after their victory in their Games. They keep each other focused on the final plan, and every one of them is on the same page, helpnig each other through the difficulties. Finnick’s propo confessing what had happened to him over the years after his Games ultimately lead a lot of the Capitol, and those not in the know in the Districts to completely change their minds about President Snow, ultimately forcing him to hide.

15. When Katniss learns of the work Gale is doing with Beetee, using the psychology of trapping as much as the mechanics, she says to Gale, “Seems to be crossing some kind of line.” Gale’s reply is that they are “following the same rule book President Snow used.” Do the ends in this battle justify the means, as Gale seems to imply? He’s thinking of an “eye for an eye”, and while I agree with him to a certain extent, there had to be a line drawn. The whole point of the rebellion was to get away from their current conditions, and Gale was thinking like a Capitol citizen as opposed to that of a far away district. But, his plan works, and it works so well that Katniss actually loses her sister when one of Beetee and Gale’s designs ends up in the Capitol battle.

16. Why is it so hard for Katniss to accept Gale’s idea for trapping the workers inside the Nut. What does she mean when she says to the wounded man in the square, “I”m tired of being a piece in their games? How many ways does the invasion of the Capitol remind Katniss of the Games? Katniss is, as she always had been, a piece in a game. Whether it was the Capitol or District 13, Katniss was being used and she knew it. However, because of what happened to both her father and Gale’s in a mine explosion, she couldn’t help but feel guilty because of what it was like in the mines in their district.

17. Discuss Katniss’s feelings of guilt and insecurity when confronting Peeta. What makes her say, “Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly?” What makes her think the worst of herself. What she has done up until this point makes her feel this way about herself. She believes that countless people have died because of her, either indirectly or directly by her own hands. She hates that about herself, and it’s once again a ploy either from the Capitol or 13. But, because Peeta sees her as a threat for the majority of the book, she believes he’s actually seeing the true version of herself which isn’t true.

18. What are Coin’s motives in ordering Peeta to join Katniss’s squad in the Captiol? What are the advantages and disadvantages of having him on the squad? When Boggs transfers the holo to Katniss, why does he say, “Don’t trust them?” Whom he does he mean? Coin sent Peeta because she truly believed that he would lose whatever hold he had on his mind and kill her. In the beginning, there was no advantage, but eventually I think they realized he might be helpful once they got to Snow’s mansion as he had been inside of it before and during his capture.

19. Do you believe it was the rebels who killed the children with the exploding parachutes? If so, how does that make you feel about whether this was justified as a means of winning the war? It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be the rebels, which is disgusting. They were willing to harm children, which the entire point of the rebellion was to keep helpless children out of harm’s way. And in the end, they lost several of their own people.

20. Why does Paylor allow Katniss to enter the rooms where Snow is being held? Does she know that Snow will reveal to Katniss the role of the rebels in Prim’s death? Did Snow tell Katniss the truth? Snow did tell Katniss the truth. He said himself that he’d never lie to her, and I truly believe that. He was always honest and forthcoming with her since the first book. However, I think Paylor had some sort of inkling of Coin’s intentions, and wanted Katniss to hear it directly from the source as opposed from someone else, where she was less likely to believe it to be the truth.

21. Why did Katniss vote for another Hunger Games? To save the lives of more people? Or did she secretly anticipate sabotaging the plan? I’m not sure. This is what confuses me. She, more than anyone else, wanted to see the end of the Games. She mentioned this quite a bit over the course of the three books within the series. It goes back to Gale and the two wrongs don’t make a right bit.

22. Why does Katniss assassinate Coin? Does she do it to avenge Prim, or because she believes it is for the greater good of the country, or both? How does Katniss escape retribution for Coin’s death? I believe it was both - she wanted the revenge for her sister’s death that Coin obviously did on purpose to get a rise out of Katniss, but also because she knew that if Coin was still in control, nothing would have really changed. She was the same, if not worse, than Snow.

23. Gale tells Peeta, when they are hiding out in the Capitol, that Katniss will pick whichever one of them she can’t survive without. In the end, why is that one Peeta and not Gale? First of all, Katniss would never have been able to get over what Gale did in the Capitol by killing her sister. But because she and Gale were too alike in the longrun. Peeta was the calm to her storm.

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

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Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

-------

a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

#oh my god this is filth #Would you believe I wrote my first smut like a week ago?#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #marvel #falcon and winter solider series #fatws #bucky barnes #sam wilson #smut #marvel fanfiction

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed The Cat ~ LMH & LF [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

PAIRING: Minho x Fem!Reader x Felix

GENRE: consensual smut, Hitman au, mentions of death, assisnation, bombings, blood, face riding, oral, threesome, M/F/M, after care, no protection

A/N: Please I had so much fun with this! I love writing AU’s so much!!! 🥺🥰💗 Hope this is okay for you my lovely little anon!

"If you don't stop tapping that pen I'm going to shove it so far down your neck you'll whistle when you breathe," Minho growled in Felix's direction as they sat together in an old beat-up car. All Felix had done for the last four hours was tap and click the pen over and over again deciding that he was single-handedly going to be the one driving force that made Minho want to quit his job.

"I don't see anything else to do," Felix countered as he stared back at his partner who simply glared at him before looking out of the window again. It was a stupid idea to stake out a university it looked suspicious that two men were waiting in a car outside but it was the bosses orders. Stake out the school and wait for the suspect to come out but it felt creepy. Although it was a university and most of the students were their age it was strange to them both.

"Have we actually seen him go in?" The truth was no one had seen the guy that they were after in almost seven months, he was good at hiding which was why he was nicknamed "The Chameleon," something Minho hated. Why give the bad guy a name it was only going to boost the ego even more.

"He's supposedly acting as a student," Minho handed the folder over to Felix keeping his eyes on the door, the Chameleon could walk out right under your nose and no one would have an idea it was him.

"Why a student? Surely it would be feeling for him to be a teacher," Felix flicked through the folder the guy was a serial bomber that his company had been after for years. He'd killed almost over 100 people with no remorse whatsoever. It was as if the guy was a robot, he didn't care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted, not that anyone knew what that was. His clues were always so vague. One thing for sure, it wasn't money that he was after.

The government had tried to pay him to stop the needless killings only for the guy to blow the bag up in the middle of the street.

"Easier to hide...Won't be so obvious when things go missing around the school...The student we're looking at fits his usual MO." Minho sighed taking a deep breath and looking at Felix for the first time in an hour. It was beginning to worry him the closer the two of them got to catching the guy. Their job wasn't a simple catch him and arrest him, no, they were the last resort. Kill him on sight as soon as they know, without a shadow of a doubt that it's him. Assassins or as they were better known as now, Hitmen.

"Transfers in the middle of the year, things from the science department go missing and then there's the-" Right as Minho was about to explain that there were constant fire drills the alarm began to blare out through the school.

"Those," He mumbled staring back over at the double-doored exit from the school. There was no use sitting at the entrance when they knew he liked to hide from everyone, if he was the one doing this they needed to find him and quickly before anyone else got hurt.

"Another drill?" You mumbled looking to your left to see your best friend Mina smirking at you, you rolled your eyes knowing why she was so happy. Thanks to the fire alarm she was going to get out of her final exam and pass it no matter what,

"It wouldn't surprise me if you were the one pulling them," You mumbled sarcastically as you pulled your satchel over your shoulder, looking around for her so-called boyfriend.

"What did you do? Get Farara to pull it?" You teased as you jabbed your elbow into her side, walking out into the courtyard and taking in a deep breath,

"You need to relax, we've just finished exams and you're still studying," Mina rolled her eyes at you, it was always the same with her. She wanted you to let your hair down and relax while you wanted to focus on things that were important to you, like actually passing your course.

"I have another two years to go, you're done. I'm just getting started." You reminded her as you looked around, you loved Mina with all of your heart but since meeting Farara she seemed to be getting in trouble more. Not only with the university but with the police. Just last week you'd been called down to the station to bail her out because she was caught driving around in a stolen car with enough products to set a whole house on fire.

"Take a year off, come with me and Farara to England. He's going to take me away and spend time with his family." The more you heard about the guy the more worry began to grow inside of you. She'd hardly known him and yet she was planning to run away to a different country with him,

"What does he even do for a living? To get all of this money?" You questioned hoping she wouldn't get too annoyed with you asking her about him. It seemed as though whenever you asked questions she would get pissed at you, claiming that you were just trying to poke holes in their "relationship,"

"What does it matter?" She stared at you with a disgusted look on her face,

"Hey, baby!" A voice cried out as a pair of strong-looking arms wrapped around Mina.

"Snuckums!" She practically squealed making you jump as she turned around and began making out with him grotesquely in front of everyone.

"That's my cue to leave," You said loud enough for them to hear, turning to head home to your dorms when Mina grabbed your arm.

"Party tonight. Come with us," She begged looking at you with pleading eyes, as you were about to decline Farara scoffed at the thought of it.

"Y/n? At a party, don't make me laugh. She's the party pooper baby, she doesn't know how to have fun." For some reason, the anger bubbled up inside of you and it seemed to annoy you more. If Mina had been the one to say it it wouldn't have bothered you as much but from him, you wanted to prove him wrong.

"I'll be there. Text me the details," You smiled smugly in his direction but he just seemed to smirk, it made you feel uneasy to see him smirking at you like that.

"This will be great! A going-away party right baby!?" Mina squealed before making out with him once again.

After spending almost four hours trying to pick something to wear you finally felt ready to go and headed straight to the party. It was at the frat house Farara had been living in since he got to the university. The whole walk over from your dorms you could have sworn someone was following you along.

"Glad you could join us, take this." Mina handed you a drink and then laid a flower necklace around you before disappearing into the house leaving you alone.

The whole house seemed to be partying hard, loud music was blaring for different speakers each of which was playing a different song. People were already yelling and dancing drunkenly along the floor and not to mention someone throwing up in a flower pot.

"You came pretty late, didn't think you were going to show," Farara smirked once he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You hummed before putting down the cup Mina had given to you, there was no way you were going to drink that night. Not unless it was water at least. You didn't know anyone besides Mina and she was clearly preoccupied with other things.

"We have juice boxes in the basement," Farara joked earning a laugh from someone else in the kitchen but Mina pushed him softly.

"Leave Y/n alone, she came and that's all that matters. Come on, let's go dance." She pulled you straight into the living room without giving you a chance to answer her.

"Isn't this fun?! I'm so sad you never got to have parties all year," She pouted at you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she swayed in time to whatever song she heard first. The mixture of the songs and stench alcohol all starting to hurt your head the longer that you stood there but you were at least going to wait an hour before heading home.

"What the fuck are we doing?" Minho mumbled as he stared down at the jeans and shirt he was wearing, Felix had dressed in the same outfit only a different coloured shirt. When Felix suggested going to the party Minho didn't think he meant actually attending it.

"We're blending in." He chuckled laying one of the flower necklaces around Minho's neck who stared at him with a filthy look the moment it touched his chest.

"What better way to find out information than going to the people that know the guy." It still didn't make Minho feel any better about being at some kind of dumb University frat party. Everyone was drunk and drooling over one another except for the girl that they had followed over, you.

"Look," Minho nudged Felix and nodded in your direction as they watched you heading for the bathroom alone. You stood out amongst the rest, instead of dancing or drinking you were simply looking for a bathroom and keeping your head down. They only knew about the party because they'd overheard you and Mina talking about it earlier that day.

"She looks like she could be here to help, we saw them speaking with one another earlier," Minho reminded Felix but he shook his head,

"She does look like she wants to be here, they didn't look like they liked one another." Minho shrugged his shoulders as he thought back on it,

"All good acting," The two of them weren't sure if Farara had a partner this time but in all of his other bombings, he had someone. Someone who would take the fall for him, usually the good girl gone bad once they met him and fell for his traps. Promising them a life of happiness in another country, planning everything out so it would seem as though he truly loved and cared for them when he didn't.

"I'm just saying we find The Chemelon, take care of business and leave," Felix whispered as they made their way through to the kitchen when they saw him. A loud laugh spread through the air that physically sent shivers down their spines, watching as he left out of the kitchen door and down the back garden.

"Follow him," They said in unison as they headed out of the same door, keeping their heads down as they tried to see what it was he was doing.

Stepping out onto the back porch you took in a long deep breath of the cold air, it felt nice to have it circulating through you instead of the stuffy air from inside. Mina had begged you to stay once she caught you trying to leave, making you promise her that you wouldn't go anywhere until she found Farara who had run off leaving her in charge of the party. In your mind, he was out fucking someone else since he seemed like a player but you weren't about to tell one of your best friends that.

The longer you stood there the more you wanted to go home but as you looked down at the end of the garden you frowned. Inside the small shed, there was a flashing light coming through the window and you could have sworn you heard someone grunting.

"I swear to god if this is Farara I'll murder him," You mumbled to yourself as you began to walk towards the building. All you were going to do was look through the window, if it was him you'd find Mina and tell her. If it wasn't him you'd just act as though you hadn't seen anything but the closer you got the more uneasy you began to grow. Something inside of you was telling you to turn back but you weren't about to let your friend get cheated on by some good for nothing low-life.

"Tell us what you're planning and maybe we'll let you off easy," Felix whispered in Farara's ear from behind him. They'd followed him out and found him packing up a suitcase which meant the bombing was sooner than expected from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," The boy stuttered as he stared between the two men in front of him, both of them had guns on display to intimidate him into speaking. As if being strapped into a chair with garden rope wasn't scary enough for him.

"Look, we know who you are. Just tell us where the bomb is," As soon as the word bomb left Minho's mouth he heard a gasp and branch snap from outside the shed. His eyes met with Felix and he nodded over to the side door where Felix could easily get out without being seen.

Stepping back from the building you tried to move out of the way but ended up backing into someone who pushed you back to the window. Forcing you to stare through it as the man inside shot Farara in the chair he was strapped to. There was no sound from the gun you just saw a blur before Farara dropped forward, lifeless in the chair as blood pooled from the small entrance wound in his head. A small scream was building up in your throat but before you could say a word a hand was covering your mouth and you were ushered into the shed.

"Clean up to Agents 322 and 366," The man who had killed Farara said down a small earpiece looking over at you with a small smirk on his face,

"What a curious little kitten," Felix purred in your ear as he ran his fingers up and down your cheek making you shiver,

“Curiosity Killed The Cat you know,” Minho chuckled as he looked over at you from his phone.

"I'll ask you once, and only once." Minho lowered himself to your level, looking you in the eyes.

"Do you know who he's working with? Your friend maybe? Could she have known what he was planning?" Bile rose up in your throat as you watched the blood pooling onto the floor, running along to Mino's shoes as he stood there.

"Mina. S-She wouldn't have know...I don't think," You looked back at Minho, the gut feeling inside of you seemed to subside as you looked at him and Felix who was now standing in front of you.

"You don't seem scared that we just killed your friend?" Felix questioned looking from the body and back to you, your eyes get dancing to and from Farara, half expecting him to jump up and have this be some kind of joke.

"A friend? I didn't know him and he did nothing but belittle me...What was it you said about a bomb?" Curiosity began to build in Minho as he watched you, there wasn't even an ounce of fear towards them from you.

"Have you heard of the Chameleon?" The realization hit you as you stared at Farara.

"He fits the MO." You mumbled shocking Felix who just seemed to stare at you in disbelief.

"You're training to be in the forces?" Minho asked as he laid a garden sheet over the body, your eyes staring back at him this time.

"My father was an FBI agent, I know some things...I know you're not FBI." A smirk plastered across Felix's lips as he watched you and Minho interacting the way you were. It was the first time he'd ever seen Minho act so casually with someone in months, not to mention he seemed laid back.

"How do you know that?" Felix quizzed looking over at you as he folded his arms over his chest.

"For starters, neither of you have a badge otherwise you would have shown me by now, your guns aren't standard issue for agents...So you're hitmen...That or random psychopaths." Minho blinked at you before standing up straight when he heard a knock on the door.

"Clean up crew," Minho pulled the door open and ushered you out with Felix on your other side.

"Do you need help with her?" A female voice asked as you turned your whole body to see a female staring at you.

"No thanks, you go and clean up. We'll take her home." Your eyes shot up to the one with the deep voice, Felix, and you frowned.

"We'll make sure you get home safe," Minho added when he could see how confused you were.

Leading you over to their car you stared at it, it was the same car that had been following you earlier.

"You followed me here," The back door opened and you crawled inside, looking around at all of the empty food packets.

"Ignore the mess, we were on a stakeout," Felix chuckled as he got into the front passenger seat and glanced back at you.

"I'm Felix and this is Minho," He shook your hand and you felt a spark ignite inside of you. The way his hand fit around yours made you shiver a little,

"Look at that, someone liked your touch Lix." Your eyes shot to Minho started up the car and smirked at you through the small review mirror.

"Give us your address kitten," The small nickname made you clench your thighs as you could feel an aerosol building. After giving them your dorm address you began trying to pull yourself back together, you'd just watch them kill someone and yet you were getting wet at the thought of them calling you kitten. It didn't help that they were insanely attractive, Felix's muscles could be seen through the thin white shirt he was wearing and Minho's ass looked like he worked out an awful lot. You blinked, ignoring the growing wetness that was pooling between your legs.

"Look at that, we haven't said one suggestive comment and you're squeezing your little thighs together," Minho chuckled as he reached a red light, turning to look at you from the front seat and licking his lips at the sight of you. Completely innocent and sitting there rubbing your legs together as if that was going to give you any kind of satisfaction that you were desperately craving.

"My guess is she's going to go home and touch herself to the thought of us," Minho teased as he began to drive once again, watching Felix as he turned to look at you. His eyes locking with you as he reached behind to rub your knee softly.

"I mean she doesn't have to think of us, we could do it for you princess." The car stopped outside your dorm but you made no attempt to move as the car was shut off.

"Would you like that?" Minho questioned turning his body to look at you. The need to press your thighs together built up but Felix kept them apart, licking his lips as he waited for you to answer the question. A finger trailed up and down your knee and you shuddered,

"Yes! Yes...Yes, I would like that," You spoke loudly as you stared at both of them, the two exchanged a smirk with one another before climbing out of the car and holding your door open.

"Then who are we to let a pretty little kitten go home needy," Felix growled in your ear, holding your arm as you all walked in the direction of your dorm room.

Neither of them wasted time when they got into your room, attaching their lips to either side of your neck as you let out small whimpers of pleasure. You could already feel each of them smirking against your skin, Felix's hands around your waist while Minho kept his on your breasts, massaging them softly with his hands whenever you would whimper.

"Here we thought you were the good girl," Minho whispered making you jerk away from him,

"I'm not. I'm sick of people saying that to me," You spat at him your eyes locking with his as he tilted his head to the side, a smug look on his face.

"Prove it to me," Without another word you pushed him down onto your bed sinking to your knees in front of him. You pulled down the jeans he was wearing discarding them behind you, forgetting about Felix behind you until he laid down on the floor.

"Up," He ordered, you rose to your knees and he slid under you so his breath was right against your core.

"Looks pretty," He whispered referencing the bright pink thong you had worn under your dress that night,

"But it needs to go." One snapping sound later and you felt a cool breeze on your core,

"Dripping wet Minho, you should see her." A finger began to trace along your folds making your hips jolt forward,

"So wet, pretty and-" A small kiss was placed on your clit and your eyes widened,

"Tastes define." Felix moaned out in a deep voice, you whimpered looking at Minho.

"The confidence seems to have faded from you kitten," You ignored him pulling his cock free from his boxer and smirking at the length. He was larger than you expected but you slowly pumped him in one hand, looking up at him smugly as he jerked. Minho shifted a little, leaning back against the bed letting his elbow prop him up. Running your fingers over the indent under the head of his cock your smirk grew wider as he moaned out.

"Good girl," He breathed out as your tongue began to caress him, swirling around the head of his cock before you took him into your warm mouth pumping your head back and forth while your other hand rested on his thigh.

"My turn," Felix whispered pulling you to sit down on his face as you let out a moan around Minho's cock who seemed to moan out in pleasure. Hollowing out your cheeks you ran your tongue over the indent you'd found earlier and he cried out gripping onto the sheets around him.

"Oh shit!" You moaned out as you could feel Felix's tongue running through your folds while he worked two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to meet your g-spot making you cry out again.

Minho thrust up into your mouth as you took him back, moving your head faster this time setting his whole body aflame. Each thrust of your head caused his whole body to stiffen and he looked at you, holding your face as he began to thrust a little more. You smirked around him nodding at him to let him know it was okay and he slowly began to thrust into your mouth.

"S-Shit she likes that Hyung, clenching around my tongue." Felix chuckled as he continued to eat you out aggressively as you rode his face, your hips bucking little by little as you felt an orgasm beginning to build up inside of you. Minho thrust up once more before his whole body shook and he let out a moan of your name, cumming into your mouth as he rolled his head back. You swallowed every last drop and focused on the pleasure Felix was giving to you, gripping onto the bed as you rocked your hips in time with his licks.

"So pretty when your face contorts like that," Minho chuckled as he began kissing you softly, holding your neck in his hand lightly as he forced you to look at him,

"Do you like this? Two strangers fucking you?" You nodded as you let out a choked moan, pulsating around Felix's fingers as he continued to thrust them into you at a rough pace.

"Cumming!" You screamed out as your hips continued to buck as your orgasm ripped through you, your legs shaking as you tried to stay upright on your knees instead of falling to the floor the way you wanted to.

"Y/n?" Felix whispered as he pulled himself into a sitting position, watching you as you ripped your dress off from your body, you were ready and you needed one of them inside of you. Now.

Lips met yours over and over again as Minho pulled you up onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard as you straddled his lap. Kissing him wherever you could, lips, neck, collarbone, anywhere you could get your lips on him. Felix sat behind you naked, his cock pressed against your ass as you let out a whine.

"Still so wet," Felix chuckled as he teased your entrance with two fingers, meanwhile Minho had worked his fingers down to your clit circling slowly.

"Holy fuck," You breathed out as your head fell forward to rest on top of Minho's. Your brain was in a fog as they continued to tease you with their fingers until Felix sank two inside of you and Minho applied the pressure that made you cry out pushing your hips back into Felix.

A third finger was added and your whole body felt as though it was on fire, your fingernails dug into Minho's arms as you cried out a mixture of both of their names.

"Someone is ready for us," Minho chuckled as they removed their fingers making you whimper at the sudden lack of touch from either of them. Felix moved to the edge of the bed and sat in the same position Minho had before.

"On the floor kitten," He whispered as you got onto your knees in front of him, this time Minho sat behind you with his cock at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing.

"You sure?" You ignored the stupid question as you sank down onto Minho's cock crying out as you adjusted to the size of him.

"That..Oh shit...That's a yes Felix," Minho moaned out as he held onto your thighs, grunting at the tight feeling as you wrapped around his cock. Smirking to yourself you looked up at Felix, taking him into your mouth and began to bob your head as you had done with Minho. The two men moaning out in pleasure as you controlled them, moving your hips up and down at a slow pace just to torture Minho that little bit more.

"Fuck," Minho's hands gripped onto your waist and he thrust up harder and faster into you, his breathing jagged as he moaned out your name. Felix's cock twitched into your mouth as you began to roll your tongue around the head of his cock, reaching your hand down between your thighs to circle your clit.

Fire was beginning to build in your stomach with both moans from men titling you over the edge.

"Just like that," Felix cried out as you moved your head in time with Minho's fast thrust. The room filled with wet sounds and slapping skin as you cried out around Felix's length. Felix's hand rested on your cheek as he began to thrust into your mouth, grunting as he came down your throat holding you around him until his hips stopped jerking.

"M-Minho! I-I’m cumming! I-I’m cumming!" You screamed out as he continued his sinfully fast thrusts until he came into you touching you deeply as your head rolled back against his chest. Clenching onto anything you could get your hands on, screaming out his name. Cumming around him as you pulsated in pure bliss, your whole body felt as though it was shaking.

Minho smirked as you slept in his shirt, they'd managed to clean you up with a warm wet cloth and got you into bed.

"Poor thing must be exhausted," He smirked running his fingers over your face as your frowned in deep slumber.

"That was a nice reward though for finishing our job," Felix laughed as he looked at your body, you were curled up in a small clutching onto the sheets and he smiled.

"We should get going, paperwork to report and all that," Minho mumbled grabbing a hoodie from your wardrobe as he turned to leave.

The morning you woke up images of what had happened flashed before you and if it hadn't been for the achiness between your thighs. You would have thought it a dream and yet, you were laying there in a shirt that wasn't yours and a note beside your bed,

Until next time Curious Kitten x

Written at the bottom of the note were two numbers with the boy's initials by the side of them, you clutched the note against your chest as you laid back. Enjoying the memories of the night before.

Tagline: @minholuvs @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

#yandere x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere illumi #chrollo lucilfer #reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo gets scammed #hope its not too dumb

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years

Text

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #mob!steve #dark!bucky #mob!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader

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prismatic-bell · 3 years

Text

@teashoesandhair since you have dragged me headfirst into this amusing Q-007 idea of yours, I want you to know I have come up with a plot.

The movie begins in near-darkness. We see Bond outside MI6 with a masked figure in black. There are sounds of a struggle. At last there’s a gadgety little beep and a door slides open.

BOND: you expect us to surrender?

HENCHMAN: No, Bond. We expect you to die.

A gun is raised, the trigger is cocked—and a phone rings. This phone turns out to belong to Q, who answers it with the charming “someone had better be dying, or you’re about to be” in the just-woke-up croak of a man still lying in bed with his eyes closed. A voice on the other end asks where he works. He asks “what time do you think it is, doing surveys before sunup?”

Bond’s voice comes on the line. It is EXTREMELY clear he’s reading from a script. He states the sins of the Empire can never be cleared, but they can be paid for. It’s quite clear from his voice that he’s in pain, although whether physical or emotional or both is up for question. Then in the same tone of voice he says “go left” and that is why Q rolls off the bed just in time for a bullet to go through it.

We cut to Q in power-walking down a hallway in MI6. He is wearing a polo shirt and looks deeply upset about this. A woman with a bun is jogging along beside him and apologizing because, she says, it’s the only shirt she still has from before. He stops, looks irritated, and says “M is dead. Her replacement just got kidnapped, the guy I’ve been seeing for the last three months was a plant, I almost got shot less than an hour ago, I’m reasonably sure someone is trying to assassinate the Queen, you and I are the only two people who made it to MI6 this morning, I’m freezing AND I STILL HAVEN’T HAD COFFEE.”

His coworker says they have to find Bond, who might have some information on what’s going on and, at the very least, is actually a 00 agent. She actually starts laying out a plan while Q finds a Keurig, brews a cup, and drains the whole thing in one go. She finally trails off while he gets to the bottom of a mug of genuinely alarming size. He plonks it on the counter, says he’s getting on his computer, and tells her to call the palace and ensure the Queen is under secure guard.

THE LADY WHO IS ABOUT TO BE 001 BECAUSE 001 IS POTENTIALLY KIA: someone took out all of MI6 in a night, including the 00 agents, and you’re going to trust a bunch of Beefeaters? Who all look the same in uniform? As though they couldn’t be impersonated?

Q: …..fuck.

Q, who is currently the closest thing MI6 has to a head of command, calls the palace in an official capacity to speak to the Queen directly. He announces he’ll be sending a 00 agent and under no circumstances should the Queen be without her. Outfits the new 001 with the usual—earpiece, fancy gun, IT toys—and, before he sends her off, says “give me your ID.” A minor argument ensues before he says “The only way to find all of MI6 is through the database. That means the reason they didn’t find you is because they were looking for a man, whose name would match with the one on your ID, now give it to me. The one time government backlog worked in your favor.”

She hands it over and asks what he’s going to do. To which he rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, and says: “I’m going to find Bond.”

The rest of the movie alternates between 001 and an action plot on her end, keeping the Queen out of danger and trying to gather intel from within the palace to see just how badly it’s been infiltrated, and Q first tracing a rogue computer signal and then sighing, grabbing a 00 kit, and taking off with something that looks like a cell phone but is actually a very tiny computer hooked into the MI6 mainframe.

This adventure proceeds much like a typical Bond outing, except that Q has to do it via backdoors and finding the nerdy interns and invisible staff of the high-powered people Bond would normally work with. He finds Bond, hacks him out of whatever mess he’s in, and they make for the exit in a firefight while Bond covers him and he ineffectually tries to assist. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to shoot a gun—it’s that previously, outside training, he has never NEEDED to, and he jammed the magazine. So as they go, he’s trying to fix the gun and keep an eye out for the door with the RFID scanner so he can get them the hell out of there. As they reach the door Bond runs out of bullets, Q finally gets his gun fixed, and as somebody aims to take off Bond’s head (complete with a laser sight, this guy’s not gonna miss), Q gets off his first shot for the entire scene and lays the guy out.

Q: ….fuck I just killed someone.

BOND: it comes with the job.

Q: it comes with YOUR job, I don’t have a 00 designation.

BOND: I’m promoting you.

Q: oh, thanks—WAIT—

(And then he shoots someone else. He still looks vaguely panicked about this. In all fairness to Q, he has had one HELL of a day and there’s been exactly one caffeinated beverage in it, and he still doesn’t have a cardigan.)

They get back to MI6 just in time for Q to pick up an errant GPS signal: missing agents! Four of them! That’s enough to make a skeleton recon team!

…but also, they’ve just gotten a phone call from the villain, congratulating Q on being SO clever…but not clever enough. The Queen is in imminent danger. 001 has evacuated her from the palace. “Ah, but London Bridge is falling down. Good day, Mr. Q,” says the villain, and hangs up.

From this, Q deduces that the Queen has been taken to St. Magnus-the-Martyr Church at London Bridge, and that it’s likely the villain means to blow it up. They need the extra manpower promised by that clutch of agents, but the villain made it sound like any moment the Queen would be dead. Bond announces he’s going after the agents.

Q: so that’s it then? We have to uphold the agency because England is about to plunge into chaos?

BOND: no. I’m going for the agents. You’re going to the church.

Which Q does, muttering under his breath the whole way. As he has been for most of this movie, actually. This is not the job he signed up for. But he goes, he gets in a very Bondish fight with his now-ex who is indeed a henchman for the villain, and just at the end when he COULD shoot him, he doesn’t:

Q: ….no. I’m not killing you. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: …..sorry?

Q: my sweater. That’s my sweater, I’ve been freezing all day. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: *extremely confused, but complies*

Q: *puts it on* better. Where were we again? Oh. *definitely shoots the henchman* Your Majesty. My apologies.

….to which the actual villain pops in with some sarcastic applause and an appropriate Bond Villain Speech(tm). Q realizes he has two bullets left and this asshole is staying just enough in the shadows that Q can’t accurately clock him.

There’s some sarcastic banter, during which 001 manages to get the Queen away again. The villain is pissed, but he’s like “that’s fine. You are, yourself, just a representative of corruption” and takes aim….

….just in time for the actual, original 001 to put a gun to the back of his head.

In the end:

1) The Queen is safe*

2) Bond is designated M

3) The lady Q designated as 001 is redesignated as Q. Also, in thanks for her service to the Crown, the Queen personally pushes through Lady Q’s ID with corrected gender on it.

4) The found MI6 agents begin seeking their counterparts, most of whom are alive and imprisoned rather than killed.

5) And, at the Queen’s suggestion—she’s shocked to find out all of this was masterminded by an IT tech, not a heavily-trained agent—Bond makes Q’s promotion official, and designates him 007.

ROLL CREDITS.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

*say what you want about the British monarchy and I’ll probably agree with you, but this is An Extremely British Franchise, so she’s got to live.

89 notes · View notes

wavesmp3 · 3 years

Text

you jump; i jump

sunwoo x reader

requested from sensory prompts #46: the waver in someone’s voice when they’re stressed genre: spy au, exes (ish) to lovers wc: 5.6k warnings: cursing, tiny bit of gore/blood

Sunwoo used to pride himself for being able to keep his cool, in even the most unimaginable situations. He kept his exterior when Haknyeon turned out to be double crossing their agency, Creker, and secretly sending information to a rivaling one the whole time. Sunwoo didn’t crack when his entire mission in Sydney blew up right in his fucking face, never even flinched when his gear malfunctioned dumping him in a hospital for a week. But all those instances seem to fall flat now. All the times where Sunwoo stayed strong seem to disappear the moment he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around only to come face to face with you. “What are you-“ he falters, grasping at the last bits of crumbling pride and hanging on to the dip in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You forgot this,” you continue, ignoring him entirely, “forgot it in Vienna specifically.” You dangle a watch in front of his face. The same watch he lost somewhere in Austria three months ago, at the same time that he was in the middle of the most intense and longest mission the agency had ever given him, and more notably, around the same time he met you. “Don’t look so shocked.” You scoff when he fails to respond. “You told me you were gonna be here.”

Sunwoo laughs, except it’s less of a laugh and more of an exhale of pure disbelief. “I know what I said, but you’re…” his voice trails off, some part of him unable to finish the sentence and another part of him still too disturbed to believe it.

You tilt your head with faux confusion. “I’m what?”

Sunwoo gulps. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

VIENNA, AUSTRIA THREE MONTHS AGO

Sunwoo remembers, with a starling amount of clarity, all that happened three months ago. He can recall every day he spent roaming the streets of Vienna with you despite the way he’s been trying to drown out the memories and douse his lingering feelings.

When he met you at a pub on one of his first nights there, he told himself he entertained your conversation because, well, to put it bluntly, he thought you were cute. Although the small tug in his gut doesn’t help justify why he found himself stumbling back to his hotel room with you by his side. And there’s really no good excuse for the tiny sting of disappointment Sunwoo feels when he wakes up alone the next morning.

It’s two days after that night when Sunwoo sees you again, sitting on a bench with a book in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. It’s an odd coincidence that he should see you in Vienna again, but the small pang of doubt is quickly replaced with a more promising burst of elation. Sunwoo can’t tell if it’s exhilarating or terrifying.

“Ah,” you mutter when you notice him approaching, “Sunwoo right?” It’s a facade, Sunwoo thinks to himself, he knows you remember his name, knows you only pretend to forget. But he doesn’t mention that, instead he nods rather lamely, shoving his fists into his pockets and burying away the voice of reason in the back of his head telling him this is a mistake. “Sit.” You say, moving your things to the other side of the bench and patting the now empty spot next to you. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

And in retrospect, it’s quite obvious that Sunwoo should have found the words alarming. Really, he should have begun to put his guard up the second he spotted you in Vienna again. But at that moment in time, the only thing Sunwoo can think to ask is if he was worth the wait.

Your tongue darts out, swiping at your bottom lip in thought for the smallest of seconds, before disappearing into your mouth again. “Yeah,” you say, lips turning up into an intrigued smile, “you were.”

—

Sunwoo doesn’t think much of the way he comes to trust you so easily, telling you the truth about his job in the darkness of the hotel room. He doesn’t think anything of the way you hang onto his every word without ever sharing much about yourself. And when one day, you sit down at the cafe booth across from him and ask, “what’s your current mission,” Sunwoo doesn’t think twice before telling you everything about his objective to infiltrate Pegasus. He also doesn’t notice the phone call you make soon after.

—

When the truth does come out, it comes fast, like water rushing off a cliff and crashing into Sunwoo sitting unsuspecting at the bottom. It comes in the form of a charity event that he only attends as part of the mission which sent him to Vienna to begin with. The truth arrives, like a rock in his gut, at the same second that Sunwoo sees you across the hall. You, who he last saw at the hotel, and you, who’s supposed to be on a train to Paris right now. And when your eyes finally catch his, there’s something unmistakable swimming in them. You’ve been caught, Sunwoo thinks, finally placing a name to the familiar way you swallow and dart your eyes around the room. Sunwoo recognizes the feeling, vaguely remembers the rush he felt once in Santiago and again in New York.

“I can explain,” you hiss, quiet and breathless, finding him outside the hall after a few minutes.

And Sunwoo knows he should be dying for an explanation of what you’re doing here or who you’re really working with. Some small part of Sunwoo knows that he should already be replaying every conversation and trying to determine how much information he’s given you to use against him. But another, larger part of him, that’s poking at his heart and prodding at his brain, chooses to stare at your lying eyes, study the face he’s come to memorize, and lamely ask, “how much of…” his voice tapers off, gesturing to the empty space in between you two, “of this was a lie?”

You don’t respond, but in the silence Sunwoo finds the answer anyways.

All of it.

—

It’s not long after that night that a new message from the case officer shows up for him.

You’re on thin ice. New mission: get rid of that Pegasus agent.

PRESENT TIME THREE MONTHS AFTER VIENNA

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here?” Sunwoo asks you again, shifting in his plastic red chair and keeping his gaze focused on the street you’re both seated beside. He hadn’t planned on hanging out after crossing paths with you earlier today. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but when you offer him a meal in exchange for a conversation, his rumbling stomach agrees before he can even consider the offer. The scene you lead him to is a busy one, filled with people rushing down the road and bustling behind each of the food stalls. It’s a mosh-posh of neon signs, kicked up dust, and the aroma of food being fried. More importantly, it’s a loud area, one where you and Sunwoo can talk freely without the worry of being heard by someone seated nearby. He takes a bite into his skewer, waiting for your response.

“And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t follow through with the mission,” you counter, twirling your lime green straw with the tip of your finger. “The one where you were supposed to kill me.”

You say it plainly, but something in Sunwoo’s stomach turns hard at the reminder anyways. “We’re spies,” he mutters behind clenched teeth, “not assassins.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, taking a sip from your coke, “the job description is pretty vague.”

The words are met with a taut silence, a snap of Sunwoo’s eyes towards yours, and a search for any implication of murder behind the sentence.

“It’s a joke,” you choke, wiping the coke that slips from your mouth and quickly shaking your head, “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Well anyways,” Sunwoo continues, “I tried to finish the mission. Even hired someone to find you.” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunwoo realizes he’s told you too much, realizes he’s let the truth slip too easily--again. Biting his lip, he thinks this must be what people mean when they say ‘old habits die hard’.

“He didn’t follow through.” You tell him as if to fill him in on how exactly you’re still alive and sitting across from him right here, right now, miles away from Vienna and months after Sunwoo’s hire took his money and ran. “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

And this you say with a taunting smile, catching his eyes like there’s a private joke concealed behind them. Sunwoo only gulps and pulls his focus back to the busy street.

“So what do you want with me?”

“I left Pegasus.” You answer, clearing your throat.

Sunwoo waits. He waits for you to take it back, for you to laugh at his widened eyes and say it’s a joke. The punchline never comes. “You’re an idiot.” He settles on.

“And I’ve got two agencies who’d prefer me to be dead right about now.” You grimace. “But despite the bounty on my head, I’m still here which means you’re probably not on great terms with Creker either.”

“Get to the point.”

“We both have people who want us dead. We both have next to nothing to lose at this point. So let’s team up.” You pause, checking Sunwoo’s reaction. He watches you intently, body pushing against the creaking plastic table in an attempt to hear you better. With an almost mischievous glint in your eyes and a satisfied quirk, you continue: “Let’s take back what we stole for them.”

There’s a long moment where Sunwoo just stares at you, deciphering what to make of the proposition. You appear genuine, Sunwoo decides leaning away from the table until his back hits the chair, but Sunwoo isn’t exactly sure how much he trusts his own judgement considering the last time he decided you were sincere you had been lying to him left and right.

Sunwoo lifts his hand to the vendor of the food stall you’re sitting by. The previous glint in your eyes is gone, overshadowed by a darker shade of doubt. “What are you doing?” you finally ask, voice lower and less excited than it had been a second ago.

With a tired sigh, he replies, “I’m gonna need more food while you explain your plan.”

Sunwoo has to swallow back the smile that nearly emerges at how happy you get.

It’s a simple enough idea. Clear our names, you had explained, wipe ourselves entirely from both agencies. And it’ll work too, Sunwoo realizes when you begin the second explanation on the logistics of the whole operation. The only downside to your plan is you. Because the last person Sunwoo wants to start a new mission with is the same person who broke his heart three months ago. And it’s bothersome, almost, how calm you are and how collected you appear, especially compared to how scattered Sunwoo feels just to be around you again.

“What do you think?” You ask once you’ve explained your plan completely, tapping anxiously on the table.

“I think,” Sunwoo starts, inhaling deeply, “you’ve thought about this way too much.”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gulping down some more coke, “three months is kind of a long time.”

And yeah, he thinks, it is. But despite the time that’s passed since you’ve last seen each other and despite the way Sunwoo thought he was over you, his stomach still flips each time you look his way. He just prays that the past three months have at least somewhat watered down how he used to feel about you.

“How do I know you won’t ditch me after we clear you?” Sunwoo asks, pushing away the thoughts of lingering heartache to a corner of his mind.

“We’ll do you first.” You state simply. “Steal your file off Creker and get the bounty off your head first. Then we’ll do me.”

“And then how do you know that I won’t ditch you?”

You falter at that, frowning for the smallest of seconds, then say, “I don’t.”

Sunwoo nods, pretending to contemplate your offer. But in all transparency, Sunwoo knew he’d agree to your plan despite the bile that turns up at your name because with the way he’s been hiding in a crappy motel and eating instant ramen every night, it’s kind of hard to refuse any proposition that gives him the slightest chance at an out from Creker.

“Okay,” he finally utters, wiping the crumbs of his second skewer off his hands, “let’s do it.” You meet his eyes expectantly. Nodding, he says,

“Let’s team up.”

You and Sunwoo clash more than anything else on the first day of prepping for the mission, crammed in a corner of Sunwoo’s dingy motel with two half finished cans of red bull sitting forgotten on the table, fighting about even the smallest details.

“I know the building,” Sunwoo argues, pointing to the floor plan you have pulled up on your laptop, “and this is the entrance we should use.”

“But using this entrance,” you refute, dragging your finger across the screen to show him exactly what you mean, “will give us better access to security and admin. And trust me, I know the building better than you do.”

“How do you—” Sunwoo stills. Something seems to register in your eyes at that moment as well, a small recognition of the tiny slip up, a barely audible acknowledgement that comes in the form of a cough. And all at once, Sunwoo’s reminded of the time he spent spilling his heart to you in Vienna under more covers than he was aware of. Sunwoo’s harshly thrown against the realization that you must’ve been watching him, surveying him long before you ever found him in that Austrian pub.

“See, I knew this wouldn’t work.” He grumbles, shaking his head. “You know too much about me. No, actually, you know everything about me. And I--” there’s a dip in his tone, “I know nothing about you.”

“Fine then, ask.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you think will even the playing field between us. Whatever it is you want to know about me,” you shut the laptop and turn your body to face him completely, an action that exudes largely frustration but more faintly, guilt, “just ask.”

Sunwoo learns more about you than he had intended to. He learns about the origin of the scar that runs along your spine. A fucked up operation in Shanghai, you tell him, writing over the lie you told him three months ago about it being from your childhood. He learns about your old partner Younghoon and about the shadow falling over your forehead at the sound of his name. He’s told about how you got involved with Pegasus to begin with, a similar story to Sunwoo’s beginning with Creker: an unlucky concoction of desperation and coincidence. You tell him, with reluctance, your most embarrassing story, followed by a long list of firsts and favorites. So by the time night falls, with two empty red bulls at the foot of the bed and the building’s floor plan now forgotten behind the black screen of your laptop, Sunwoo learns enough to rebuild a fraction of the trust he lost.

Everything goes smoother after that. You and Sunwoo seem to fall into a rhythm, meeting at a café in the morning and at the motel in the afternoon, planning out the missions with far less difficulty than before. A rather quick adjustment, from both of your ends, and an even faster allocation of responsibilities. He finds himself looking forward to sitting in front of your open laptop each day and conjuring new ways to distract you every hour.

And it’s after meeting up with you one night, not as partners but—perhaps more cruelly—as friends, that a dangerously familiar warmth blooms in his chest and refuses to wilt away when he sees you again the next day. Sunwoo knows that he should be doing something, anything to blow out the flame, but instead he feeds the fire and prays that this time it spreads from his heart to yours.

“Where’d you get all of this?” Sunwoo questions one day when you show up at the motel with a suitcase full of equipment. An assortment of laptops, earpieces, weapons, and randomly picked gadgets.

“Took it from Pegasus before I left,” you smirk, pulling out an earpiece and holding it out in front of his ear. “You’re usually on the field, right? The one in action?” He nods. “Good, you can be the agent for this mission then,” you mumble, setting down the earpiece and holding up another. “I’m usually the person behind the computer anyways. Was even a handler for a mission in Seoul once.” You place the earpiece in his palm and begin to pull out the other pieces of equipment from the suitcase.

“What about Vienna?” Sunwoo says, inspecting a certain gadget from the case. “You were on the field then.” And it’s a question that would’ve been asked with malice if it had come up a couple weeks ago, but right now, there’s nothing but curiosity behind Sunwoo’s words.

“Oh,” you hesitate, a small smile appearing briefly, “I guess I do both.”

Sunwoo doesn’t ponder over your answer for long.

It’s later that day, right as you’re about to leave, that you frown at Sunwoo’s head, matter-of-factly saying, “you should change your hair before the mission.” Then, with a laugh bubbling behind your teeth, you add, “again.”

(Sunwoo changed his appearance a lot. One of the tactics that had stuck from his training days. Never really in big ways, but small changes here and there every couple of months. Sometimes it was a new piercing that he’d wear for a year and let close up in the next, and other times the change came in the form of a temporary tattoo imprinted on his neck whilst in Vancouver with Kevin. When Sunwoo met you in Vienna his hair was a light brown that he had gotten done in Tokyo and hadn’t bothered to touch up since. So when the time had come to change something again, he headed to the hair salon.

“When’d you do this?” you asked him that night, running a hand through the new red hair.

“Just today.” He answered, hoping you wouldn’t ask for a reason.

“I like it.”

“More than the brown?”

“Way more.” You whispered, leaning in until he felt the breath of your words on his lips.

And in the moment before you closed the distance, Sunwoo had made a silent vow to never change his hair again.)

Sunwoo gets his hair done the day after you suggest it, and when he returns to the motel from the salon, he finds you already there.

“Oh good, you’re back.” You mumble, arms full and an extra key card to his room that he had given you out of convenience a while back held between your teeth. “I just came to drop these off because I have to go to—" you stop, straightening yourself and eyes fixated on him. “You got your hair done.”

It’s an observation, a small, stupid thing really. A comment made in passing that should feel routine with as much time as you and Sunwoo spend together and one that should feel even more mundane considering you were the one to suggest it. But there’s something about the way you say the words that makes Sunwoo feel slightly breathless anyways. “Yeah,” he finally affirms, running a hand through his now black hair, “I did.”

You nod in acknowledgement, setting the things in your hands down, then turn to leave.

“Wait,” he calls out. You do, pausing three paces away from the door and give a long look to the hand he’s placed on your arm to stop you before turning around to face him. And the next words seem to fall off the edge of Sunwoo’s mouth at that moment, tumbling back down his throat and landing heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Do you still…” he hesitates, attempting to smooth over the nervousness folding up in the corners of his mind.

“What?”

“Do you still like my hair?”

You consider it for a moment, bringing a hand up to tug at the new black fringe. And there’s something unmistakably domestic about the way you tilt your head in concentration, eyes fixed on Sunwoo’s hair as if there’s nothing more important for you to be doing in this moment. He watches you evaluate his hair closely.

“Yeah,” you finally say, eyes meeting his and something like a double meaning swimming in them, “I still like it.”

The first mission goes smoothly thanks to you sitting back at the motel instructing Sunwoo which turns to take and what files to download. So with a flash drive containing all the information he needs to free himself from the agency stuffed in his pocket, he turns to leave, whispering into his earpiece, “is the exit path clear?”

“Shit.”

He stops walking. “What?”

“It’s blocked. I think I can get you out another way, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, go one story below. Take two rights and then a left.” He does as you say, feet hitting the ground as quietly and as quickly as possible. The less time he spends in the building the better. “At the end of the hall, there’s a window.” You say once he’s near the place you directed him too. His stomach drops. “Jump from it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, studying the drop with grimace. “I really hate heights.”

“I know.” And there’s a misplaced softness when Sunwoo hears you mutter, “I remember.” You wait a beat. “Do you trust me?”

“Do I trust you?” He echoes, dread and disbelief coating his words. “I don’t even—”

“Just answer the question, Sunwoo. Do you?”

“I—” he studies the drop again, thinks and overthinks the newfound steadiness in your voice. Quietly, he mumbles, “yeah.”

“Then jump.” You tell him how exactly to do it as well, where to find the rope you packed and which hook is best to use. He does as you say, preparing for a jump he hasn’t decided to take yet. And once everything is prepared, the only thing that passes between you and Sunwoo on the intercom is silence. “Hey,” you mutter after a long while, something like a joke audible in your voice, “you jump; I jump, jack.”

“Except you aren’t jumping.”

“Technically, yes, that’s true but—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up.” Sunwoo inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting silence fill the intercom again. The silence, however, is interrupted the second he hears a group of voices travelling from somewhere down the hall. His eyes snap open.

“Sunwoo—”

“Fuck it.”

He jumps.

—

“You’re bleeding.” Is the first thing Sunwoo hears when he walks through the motel room’s door, quickly followed by you rushing to him, tilting his head with a finger against his chin, and inspecting the cut above his eyebrow.

“Yeah well your little jump stunt didn’t make for the smoothest of landings.”

He means it as a joke. A bad one he realizes when you pull your hand away, eyes dropping from his face and guilt hanging over your head. “Sorry about that.”

He shrugs. “It didn’t kill me.”

“Come on,” you beckon, grabbing the first aid kit and heading to the bathroom, “I’ll help you bandage them.”

Sunwoo sits on top of the closed toilet lid, folding up his pant leg to examine the gash running across his shin. The cut, he realizes, isn’t nearly as bad as it feels, but you make a small face at the sight of it anyways. It doesn’t take you very long to clean the cut on his leg, quickly finishing it while kneeling on the cold bathroom tile and asking him questions about the mission.

“No stitches?” He wonders when you pat a bandage in place.

You shake your head. “You should be fine. Nothing more than a gloried scrape really.” You add teasingly while rearranging the objects in the first aid kit. And when you laugh at the look he gives you for the comment, Sunwoo does his best to ignore the fluttering that appears in his gut at the sound.

You move on from the cut on his leg, placing the first aid kid on top of the counter and poking the bruise that’s forming above his knee before getting up yourself. He smacks your hand away.

“How’d you know about my fear of heights by the way?”

“You told me one night in Vienna.” You answer, tearing open an alcohol wipe packet. “Do you not remember?”

He shakes his head.

Frowning, you let out a small, “oh.”

Neither of you say anything after that. And Sunwoo’s so focused on the frown that’s yet to leave your face that he barely registers the way you lean towards him for better access, propping your knee on top of the toilet and between his legs for balance. Although he does notice the warmth that radiates off your body. And a minute after that, he notices how much longer it takes you to clean this, smaller cut than it took to clean the one on his leg.

“Sorry.” You quickly apologize when you press against the cut too harshly. Sunwoo waves you off. “I am sorry though.” You repeat, seriously, lips still turned down in a frown and brows knit together.

“It’s really fine.” He chuckles, amused by the amount of gravity in the apology.

“No. For Vienna.” The amusement dies in the back of his throat. “I never apologized for…” you falter there, fingers paused against his forehead, “for that. But I am sorry.”

“It was your mission.” Sunwoo gulps. “You were being a good agent.”

“And a shitty person.” You say, no hint of a joke laced in the statement. “In fact, the mission was just to observe you. Make sure you didn’t find out anything too important about Pegasus. Meeting you was mostly on accident. And everything that followed,” you bite your lip, and Sunwoo can’t tell if you’re biting back a smile or a frown, “all those other parts just sort of came naturally.”

The flame in his chest from before bursts into a bonfire, filling his lungs with a hopeful smoke. “Naturally?” He echoes.

“Yeah,” you repeat, tongue darting out in concentration while you complete the last step of smoothing out the bandage. You don’t lean away when you finish. You don’t remove your knee from between his legs. Don’t pull away the hand you have holding back his hair or the one resting against the side of his face. Nothing but your eyes move, trailing down until they find his, visibly gulping, then wandering further below. “Naturally.”

And the word is like a spell, lifting his chin and drawing him towards you until his lips are brushing against yours. It’s barely a kiss, a small hesitant press of lips that lasts no longer than a second, but one that has Sunwoo’s heart pounding wildly in a way it never did three months ago. He pauses there, lips unmoving and hovering just below yours, waiting for you.

You don’t move. Neither leaning in nor away. His gaze flickers up to your eyes, finds them half open, focused on the upper curve of his lip. He captures your lips between his again, a second attempt that is met with response when you lean into it, inhaling him in for a tiny blissful moment and exhaling him out in the next, pushing him back by the shoulders and stepping away yourself.

“I should…”

“Fuck.”

“I should go.”

And you’re gone before he can say anything else.

The kiss is ignored by both of you while prepping for the second half of the mission. A silent agreement to act like it never even happened and another one to not discuss whatever misplaced feelings led to it. It’s almost sickening how easily you and Sunwoo fall back into being just partners. Especially considering the fact that Sunwoo’s feelings haven’t faded, the bonfire in his chest still burning with the same brightness. So Sunwoo spends his days with you, attempting to put out the fire between his lungs, and he spends his nights alone, replaying the kiss you both pretend to ignore.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” You mutter on the last night, a trail of anxiousness slipping off your tongue. “And then we’ll be done.”

Sunwoo only nods, watching how your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and mulling over whether you mean done with the mission or done with him.

The Pegasus mission doesn’t go nearly as smoothly as the Creker one, complications toppling around Sunwoo from the moment he begins. They start small first: a locked door resulting in a change of entry and a janitor straggling in a hallway that should have been clear. He makes it to his first destination eventually, quickly shuffling through the room of file cabinets until he finds your physical files, slipping them into his bag, and heading to the next room with you whispering directions into his ear. The next room is empty when Sunwoo arrives. He works quick, bypassing the security system and fingers flying across to find your information.

“Faster.” He hears you mutter over the earpiece. A hasty reminder of what you had told him earlier that week: the room never stays empty for long.

“Got it.” He exhales, finally pinpointing your files and beginning the process of downloading and deleting them.

“Sunwoo,” he hears an elevator ding from somewhere outside the room at the same time he hears you, “someone’s coming.”

He doesn’t move. Keeping one eye on the closed door and the other on the still-pending status of your files. “I’m almost done.”

“If you leave now, they won’t see you.” Voices fill the hall. “But you have to leave now.”

“I’m not done yet.”

The voices move closer, louder. “It’s not worth it. Please, just go!”

He hears them behind the door. “It’s you.”

There’s a jingle of keys. “How will you—”

“Hey,” the door unlocks with a click, “you jump; I jump, right?”

“Sunwoo—”

He pulls the earpiece out at the exact moment that the door swings open.

The rooftop is obscenely pretty at this hour, with the golden sun partly hidden by a high-rise building but still growing in the distance, scattering its light across the sky, and casting a golden shadow on everything it touches. It’s a gorgeous sight, and yet, there’s no one but Sunwoo here to appreciate it.

“You’re okay.”

He whips around only to find you standing on the rooftop with him, body trembling and hands clasped over your mouth. Behind you, the door to the roof is still falling closed. Your eyes are red, dark circles hanging under them that make it look as if you haven’t slept days. Silently, Sunwoo wonders how he’s just now noticing your sudden restlessness, and a small part of him hopes—no prays that whatever’s chasing your sleep away is the same thing chasing his.

“I got it.” He says, pulling out the flash drive he stayed to retrieve. Your eyes never flicker off his. “How’d you find me?”

“How’d you get out?”

Neither of you answer. Instead, you begin to walk towards him, asking if he’s hurt with a voice that’s too soft and too concerned for Sunwoo to make out an answer. You ask it again.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in front of him. Close enough for Sunwoo to see the tears welled up in your eyes. “You’re okay.” You repeat, voice wavering with a sudden gust of wind.

“I am, but I—” he hesitates; you take a step towards him, “I miss you.” He succumbs to the fire in his chest; lets it fill his lungs, burn up his throat, and throw the sentence, “I just miss you so much,” out of his mouth without bothering to hide the crack in it.

He meets your eyes and finds a starling amount of clarity in them. “I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You laugh at that, nodding your head and stepping closer to him again. “I missed you before we ever met.”

He stares at you. For too long probably. Watches a smile grace your features, spreading like a fire. The flame feels familiar. And for the first time since seeing you after Vienna, Sunwoo doesn’t have to hold back the urge to ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He does. Lips crashing into yours, and you meeting the motion halfway, leaning into his lips, his body, him. A fervent want present in the way you pull at his neck and grab onto the collar of his shirt that would’ve probably been surprising if it wasn’t matched completely by him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and deepening the kiss for a second more.

You both pull away, just barely, faces still close and bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey,” you begin, breath hot against his lips and a knowing smirk appearing briefly, “was I worth the wait?”

And suddenly Sunwoo’s in Vienna again, sitting on a bench, and asking you the same question.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “you were.”

a/n: i apologize this request took me forever to get around too. and if the actual spy aspects to this fic make zero sense then my bad i was spit balling here. brownie points if u can find the scene inspired by queens gambit and the other scene inspired by the office lmao

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

So I was showing my sister your amazing Q-A posts, when I came across Peter's. I realized that you just keep mentioning the incompetence of the Order, and how they're just a bunch of babysitters who don't do anything throughout many posts, but never actually wrote a rant about them and their members. Can you do that, while stating all the things they did/didn't do and their uselessness to the Order? What can I say I love your rants!

Caveat that it has been a while since I’ve read books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. I have a fantastic memory but some things may slip my mind. If I grievously offend anyone and it turns out the Order does actually do something, anything, of any vague importance then feel free to let me know and shame me on the internet.

With that, the story of why I think the Order of the Phoenix is a ridiculous organization that was mostly there because Dumbledore felt the need to have a guerilla resistance group (you’ve got to have a guerilla resistance group! Or, if Tom has a secret cult, I must have one too! BUT WITH BIRDS! COO COO KACHOO TOM RIDDLE!)

First, let’s look at our lineup.

Yes, we have a few aurors in the midst, but even with them the lineup is... worrying. In the first war we knew that key figures had presumably just graduated Hogwarts and joined the Order (James and Sirius). For all we know, they were recruited even before graduation. This makes sense as James’ is a big financial win for Dumbledore and was probably, perhaps with Longbottom, in charge of funding most of their operations. That and he and Longbottom give Dumbledore a voice in the Wizengamot (which so far as I can surmise is the only real governing body in the country, the ministry exists, but it all boils down to the Wizengamot).

The point being, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily are all barely squeaking out of Hogwarts not only when they join the Order but also even by the time they die. More, it could be because the books are from Harry’s point of view and he has a serious thing about worshipping James, but James in particular is made to sound very vital to the Order’s operations. A twenty-one-year-old who charged Voldemort without a wand (I really shouldn’t give James shit for this, it was a desperate situation, an attack they had not anticipated, he’s young, and panicking. I will still give James shit for this.)

Otherwise we have Mundungus Fletcher, who gives strong vibes of being an alcoholic and is just a generally unreliable, shady, dude who will steal your silverware and pawn it on the black market when you aren’t looking.

We have Molly and Arthur Weasley, whose only use I can possibly think of is being moral support and... I don’t know... providing safe houses maybe? Seriously, we have no indication they’re good at dueling (less so as Harry’s shocked when Molly takes on Bellatrix and miraculously wins). We know Arthur’s not a very intelligent guy. Arthur and Molly have no sense of... Well, suffice to say, if Dumbledore gave them any real information they’d run away screaming. They throw Percy out of the family for becoming Fudge’s secretary, I’m sure Dumbledore was just internally screaming and begging them not to do it so he can make Percy a spy. But he can never say as much as such a notion would horrify Molly and Arthur. Molly and Arthur are also presented as vital members of the Order by the way. Molly and Arthur. ARTHUR.

We have what remains of the Marauders in the second go around: Remus and Sirius. Remus, while a competent wizard, nobody can quite trust for the reason they couldn’t quite trust him last time: he’s still a werewolf and has no reason to support the current government. Sirius is recovering from ten years in hell and is in no condition to do anything, knows it, loathes it, and is clawing at the walls of the safehouse he was pretty much forced to provide the Order.

We then have the aurors. Kingsly seems competent enough but more than him we have Moody and we have Tonks. Tonks is young and seems very very green, she was a good enough duelist to get into the auror corps but we know she’s dreadfully clumsy and often seems to treat Order business as this very exciting super secret mission she’s on. Moody, is a paranoid wreck who is almost comical for his utterly ridiculous skepticism of everything and seems incapable of making any true plans or taking any real action.

Looking at the Order of the Phoenix is kind of like watching “Dodgeball”, you just have this really weird collection of people who try to dodge wrenches, only the Death Eaters aren’t much better, so it kind of evens out.

But onto why I think they do nothing... It’s because we see them do nothing.

We don’t get much information on the first war but at best it seems like there were a few minor skirmishes in the street now and then. I always imagine something like the Sharks and the Jets in Westside Story. They’re walking along the streets, spot each other, dramatic music ensues and a rumble begins, then they scamper away when the aurors come in.

Remember that these guys aren’t a legitimate organization and really don’t have the structure of one. Back in the day they were probably, essentially, a street gang.

We get a little more evidence of what we see them get up to in the later books. And it’s all just kind of sad.

Remus is sent on the world’s most ridiculous and hopeless quest to recruit werewolves. Why do I say ridiculous and hopeless, what the hell does Remus have to offer these guys? Werewolves are ridiculously oppressed by the current government, they cannot obtain an education, they cannot hold jobs, they’re desperately unemployed and people routinely talk about wiping them out. Remus comes up to them and says, “Hey guys, come support the guerilla movement that supports the government that talks about killing you all the time! It’ll be great!” They’ll either put Remus’ head on a pike or if they’re nice just laugh at him until he leaves. I’d say it’d be worth it, except that it’s an exceedingly dangerous task that probably would end with Remus’ head on a pike. As it is, it ends in embarrassing failure. And this is one of the more legitimate Order missions.

Hagrid, similarly, is sent to talk to the giants and it ends in equally embarrassing failure for the same reasons (why would the giants ever support the ministry and or Dumbledore who promises them nothing). Also, sending Hagrid to talk diplomacy, with anyone, ever. Surely, there’s no way that could possibly go wrong.

Otherwise their big task seems to be to babysit Harry and transfer him from the Dursleys to the Burrow/Grimmuald Place. The first, they fail at, Mundungus gets put on the job the one day something actually happens and it’s a complete disaster. The second, they also fail at, as I never understood why they couldn’t just portkey him where they needed him to go or at least closer by. The polyjuice flight across the sky was... really unecessary.

You can tell by the seriousness with which most Order members, i.e. Tonks, take the babysitting Harry duty that this is a very serious task for very serious people. Given this, Tom’s lack of overt action in the fifth and sixth books, the fact that we don’t seem to see them do anything even in the seventh book... Yeah, this and keeping an eye out for that prophecy are their most exciting jobs.

Remember that rescuing Harry from the Department of Mysteries wasn’t really Dumbledore’s idea. That was an emergency situation where he had to pull out the stops, more, I suspect Sirius went “CHAAAAAARGE” and gleefully rushed out into glorious battle with the Order directly behind him and Dumbledore going, “Well, shit.”

I guess the last thing I’ll say is that we also see that Dumbledore has very little confidence in the Order. He gives them nothing important to do and, more, gives them virtually no intelligence.

He never tells the Order about the horcruxes (their existence or Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s super serial mission to track them down and destroy them). He never relays to them that Harry himself is a horcrux. He never reveals the suicide ploy with Snape or that he was in fact dying before that point. He never reveals Malfoy’s assassination attempts. Dumbledore doesn’t tell them jack shit.

If he relies on anyone, usually when he’s forced to, it’s Severus Snape. This I think is not only because Snape is forced in a way to be loyal thanks to the life debt to Harry as well as his own overwhelming sense of guilt but also because he’s the only really intelligent and competent one there.

The Order’s just... if you need someone to pick up Harry or else keep an eye on him when Mrs. Figg is busy: they’re your guys. Otherwise, they make Dumbledore feel good about himself?

#ask #anon #the order of the phoenix #harry potter #headcanons

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dorotharry · 3 years

Text

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :)

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have. Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

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@maybe-a-marvel @thatredlipped-classic @flightsandfantasy @7minutes-tomidnight @rebelemilu

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abbynx · 3 years

Text

How would the La Squadra family react to you having a crush on the former boss' daughter, Trish Una? An 'everyone lives' AU because I am in denial. This is going to be a long one as a one-shot, so I made it to headcanon form.

TW: Mentions of injuries, blood, and death

Genre: Platonic, Found family

~ Found and raised by Risotto and the entirety of La Squadra, you grew up within the vicinity of the underpaid mafiosi as a remarkable kid who has extensive knowledge about offing someone without leaving evidence. Well, not that you would be doing that, it's just that they thought teaching you some basics might help you if ever the moment comes and you'll find this useful. That, and self-defence too. ~ You were always under the watchful eye of anyone in the La Squadra, so you found yourself being sneaky just so you can escape them at times without being noticed. They were uber protective of you and to be honest, it can be overbearing at times. ~ You get along with all of them, as you were quite the chameleon. You can match with Prosciutto's stern and strict attitude, be as brooding and intimidating as Risotto, have fun and make jokes like Formaggio, etc etc. ~ Everything was alright, of course, but there's the fact that the assassin branch of Passione were being underpaid, I mean come on. The group begrudgingly accepted this, until Gelato and Sorbet rebelled and failed. They served as the catalyst for the entirety of the La Squadra to betray Passione and overthrow the boss, but waited for a perfect opportunity to do so. ~ The death of the couple Gelato and Sorbet left a hole in your hearts. You found yourself hanging around the couple whenever you felt like it, and intimidating as they look they welcome you with warm arms. ~ And among those days as a thirteen year old, you found yourself sitting at the edge of Risotto's bed, putting a hand over his shoulder to calm him down. Out of the entirety of the La Squadra, he was person severely affected with grief at the death of his teammates, seated at the edge of his bed and cupping his face and choking at his denied sobs. ~ Two years after, it was then the perfect time to strike and wipe out the boss. At the form of his daughter, they strategize to kidnap her, extract information of his identity from her, and strike on the boss. You were reluctant for them to act out this risky mission after seeing what happened to two remarkable assassins of La Squadra who paid the price of punishment without the boss even speaking. And they didn't even plan to involve you in this operation, not even if your Stand is powerful. ~ One by one, they fall apart and it was you're sole mission was to recover their maimed remains and nurse them back to health, travelling to myriad parts of Italy with a van you stole enough to fit the entirety of the La Squadra and with medical equipments. They were barely breathing, but you got to work with what you have, robbing hospitals of equipments and shoplifting from shops for food. Staying up late at night to tend to them, making sure their heartbeats remain steady at the duration of the night. Some of them, their states were worst than the other, you found yourself focused on Illuso and Pesci, as their bodies were the most mangled among others. ~ They all survived thankfully, all mortally injured but survived. Around those times you stayed up late at night tending to their needs, working with your Stand to make sure they live normally again. Tears were shed, hugs were exchanged, numerous 'ow's!' and 'ouch!' were exclaimed. ~ You caught wind of the boss being defeated and honestly, you couldn't care less about it. All you want was that your family survived and functional again. And with that need, you wait for the new boss to find out about the people who attempted to hinder them at their trip, and find you. And by this time, you were ready to bargain your life for them. But instead of being greeted by death, somehow, the new boss opted torecognise the group's strengths and skills as assassins, and offered you guys a chance to prove yourselves worthy to be recruited back in Passione and not be killed. He comissioned your group with important missions to assassinate other branches of Passione dealing criminal services to children, and paid you handsomely in advance and promised more if you were back in Passione. ~ The squadron were

confused, but chose to take the job and easily wiped out those type of people from Passione. Since all of them were in a better state, a little rusty so they took you on the job and for once in your life as one of the La Squadra family, you were made official and made into an assassin along with them. ~ The squad was successful, and earn their selves back in Passione. Although the interaction with the Bucci gang was awkward, you were all professional and civil and seemingly buried the hatchet. ~ Soon after they were able to get back on track in just a span of a year, they offered you to get back to school and lead a somewhat normal life. You accept and enrolled to a private boarding school and unbeknownst to you, so did a certain pink haired sixteen year old. ~ It was in the middle of a school year, too, you've been getting weird looks from classmates. Honestly, you didn't think high school would be this severe and kinda regretted returning to school when you're already content with being homeschooled with the help of Melone and Ghiaccio. I mean, you're an assassin for god's sake but you can't just kill people because they whispered rumours and insults behind your back for being... You honestly didn't know why they treat you like this. ~ Days later, a certain Trish Una also enrolled back to school in an attempt to restore some point of normalcy in her life. Like you, she found herself as a target for whispers at how she looked so snobby and bratty despite being so quiet. ~ I'mma write a whole ass one-shot of you meeting Trish because I can't pass up to simp over her tbh. ~ You found yourself befriending her, oblivious at the fact she is affiliated with Passione, and was the daughter of the old boss, and the girl your family had been trying to kidnap for the sake of overthrowing the old boss. Like her, she was oblivious at your affiliation with the assassin branch of Passione as well. ~ You stuck together at school, just traumatised kids being pals and trying to live a normal life, bonding over anything really, having one teach the other complicated mathematics, until you two started to hang out outside of school where at weekends after school, you two would go out in the nearest mall to shop and perhaps eat in a cafe. ~ The whole La Squadra were refreshed at how you always smile all the time and stare off into space, they were confused at your sudden concern over your appearance and choice of apparel, you started to go out more, etc. They were confused (but never spoke of it out loud around you) at the change, but supported you nonetheless because it was normal to do as a teenager so they let you be. ~ One day, Trish decided to ask you for a study date at the café you frequented at in a Saturday morning and for some reason, you just had the urge to look your best despite just studying. Indecisiveness room over you, prompting you to seek advice from the most fashionable member of the group, Prosciutto. ~ He gave you the advice you need, and so you thanked him to turn away, leave and try the outfits he chose, when Formaggio suddenly spoke beside him: "Ohhh~ Y/N's going in a date~" Formaggio teased, lips pouting playfully and voice in a painfully high, poor attempt to imitate a school girl voice. "What? Does wittle Y/N has a cwush?" You stopped in your tracks at that, glancing at the cheese man with furrowed brows in confusion, but cheeks scorched with the sudden flow of adrenaline from the situation he's put you in. Without hearing a context of anything as he happened to just be walking by he stops, and Melone chimes in as he looked up from his monitor, "A date? With whom?" "You're going on a date?" Prosciutto raised a brow, perhaps preparing a nice, long lecture for you to endure for like an hour. "Is that why you're dressing up nicely?" "I— no!" A rush of overwhelming feeling of confusion, denial and something more mixed in your systems and became more incoherent and incoherent as you try and process things further. "I'm just going out on a study with a friend of mine. I'm not going out on a

date. What? I'm not allowed to get dolled up and look pretty while reviewing?" You try to jest to get yourself out of the situation. ~ After that's over with, Prosciutto let you go with the suspicion of you seeing someone in secret but you deny that wholeheartedly. Jesus now that they mentioned you were out going out on a date with someone, your chest grew tight with something you can't fathom, but more on confusion. "We're just friends hanging out to review, nothing else. Isn't it normal to want to dress up for a friend and look decent... Right?" You attempt to reassure yourself in your way there. ~ You arrive at the café where Trish sat, and just gawked at how effortlessly beautiful she is. She just looks so divine and elegant and beautiful and cute and adorable no matter what she does. She invites you over the table to study and all you could of was the fact it was only you two in the cafe apart from the employee but you are with her, alone... Like a date. Well it is a study date after all, meaning it's for friends. Right? ~ At the duration of the date— study date that is, you were concentrated on simplifying a lot of lessons for Trish to understand better, but upon that concentration you found yourself fixed on her. The way she bit her lips glossed with pink strawberry lip gloss whenever some questions were difficult for her to solve, the way her emerald gaze would dart up to you after answering for reassurance that she did a great job, the way she'd smile in triumph upon getting questions correct... ~ After that day, you proceeded to question yourself what Formaggio asked earlier, "Does wittle Y/N have a cwush?" And within that newfound realisation, yes you do. But you refuse to feel more of it... Not when she's around of course. ~ Days later, by accident, the secret was let out of the bag. Illuso caught glimpse of a poem you were writing beside him as you lounged around in a Saturday and scanned through it, looking for something he can tease you for it, and successfully spotted a misspelling. As he was about to correct it for you, he then realised you were writing, and addressing a poem towards the girl they were intending to kidnap a year ago. ~ The jerk Illuso is, snatched your notebook away from you, transferred himself in the mirror realm, and began to read it out loud for the others to hear. At first the others just thought of it as normal, it's a day to day occurrences among all you after when they slowly became intrigued to what you've written and listened to Illuso, as you did all your might to get it back. That's when they all heard your fancy towards Trish. ~ Now that connects the dots to why you always smile and stare off into space, dress nicely, and among other stuff you do whilst in love or ahem— as you claimed, 'having a crush' ~ Formaggio began to tease along with Illuso, whilst you only hid your scorching face behind your hands, holding the urge to murder Illuso for that. He knew what's up the moment you've been in a sickly sweet mood, along with your lovesick smile but needed further proof to tease you for it. ~ Prosciutto is rather nonchalant at the news, I mean, it's not new for teens to experience these things. As long as it doesn't really spiral to obsession he's going to let you be. ~ Pesci would be happy for you but under these circumstances of the revelation, he feels your pain and tries his best to comfort you because omg, he can't get through people teasing him, let alone see his loved ones being teased. ~ Melone is simply amused and quite frankly, not surprised. He predicted this will happen sooner or later, as he silently held out his hand in front of the fuming Ghiaccio, waiting for the bet money he has won over. ~ Ghiaccio was fuming not specifically towards you, but at how the revelation has come too light a few days early for him to win this silly little wager he had with Melone. Now, he's like twenty dollars poorer. Like Prosciutto, he's nonchalant and chill about it. ~ Risotto is particularly happy for you because for once, you were happy and somewhat

having a normalcy he has craved for you to have ever since he had kept you in La Squadra as a family member instead of an assassin. On the surface he's unfazed, but inside he is supportive and thankful you were happy. ~ Overall, they're all just supportive of you.

#la squadra x reader #vento aureo #x reader #Trish Una X Reader JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

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amayawolfe · 3 years

Text

Teacups (Illumi x Fem.Reader)

(A/N: mild fluff, pregnancy, angst, nudity, cross dressing (sorta?), bathing together, emotional struggle)

Word Count: 5755

Name Key: (o/d) = older daughter (name) (y/d) = younger daughter (name)

(Summary: You come from a small, yet formidable clan of shinobi assassins and have been married to Illum Zoldyck as a way to create a bond with one of the most powerful assassin families in the world. Even though it had been an arranged marriage, you have come to love and care for your husband deeply.

Seven years have passed since your vows were spoken and you are now five months pregnant with yours and Illumi's third and forth child. You've grown concerned with the lack of bonding between Illumi and your two daughters and suggest a "father daughters' day" while you visit family. Shortly after your return home, you are surprised in how far Illumi has taken your suggestion.)

Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow

"So tell me, (y/n), how have the girls been doing?" your mother asked you over her cup of tea.

The two of you where sitting at a table just outside your favorite little café in the city nearest Kukuroo mountain. With the sun shinning down on you brightly, warming your skin and clothes, you should have felt relaxed and stress free for a change. However, your mother had a bad tendency to get under your skin.

You took a sip from your own teacup and leaned back into your chair, rubbing your round pregnant belly as you did so.

"They're doing well. (o/d) has started her training and is fairing far better than I hoped she would have," you said with a proud smile. "(y/d) has been watching (o/d) and is getting excited for her own training to start."

Your mother smiled, happy and proud that her granddaughters were showing such keen interest and progress in the family art.

"I'm so glad to hear that," she said, lightly clapping their hands together in excitement. "They will make wonderfully talented shinobi." She took another sip from her tea before she continued. "And what are the little darlings doing today since you are taking the day off from teaching? I had hoped you would have brought them with you. I haven't seen them in such a long time."

"Oh, they're having a 'father daughters' day' day with Illumi," you replied nonchalantly.

Your mother's smile fell away from her lips. She had not been happy with your father when he had made the arrangement with one of the world's mostly deadly and powerful families of assassins. The youngest of eight children, you were her only daughter. She nearly killed your father when she found out that you were to be married off to the eldest Zoldyck child, Illumi. But by that point the deal was made and there was nothing that she could do.

Despite being nervous, if not a little scared, you were more than willing to do the deed. Your clan was suffering from lack of work due to over competition. Having ties with the Zoldycks held promise of a more steady stream of jobs. Your clan was highly skilled in their ways and made formidable allies. It was a win win situation.

The first meeting with your future husband had been an awkward one, to say the least. He was quiet for the most part, and shown less emotion than a corpse. At one point you had giggled at the thought that if he were anymore tense, and just held his breath, he could pass for one.

Your mother had always said you were a strange child.

"You mean, they are spending the day with those butlers?" she asked in a condescending tone.

Mother didn't like the idea of the butlers either. She was one of those that believed you should take care of your own home. To be honest, you secretly believed she was jealous. Having a butler when you had eight children would have been welcomed help, surely.

"Mother, please be nice," you chided. "You know I consider the butlers to be friends and family as well."

Out of the corner of your eye you could see the dark skinned young woman, Canary, smile a little as she pretended to read the paper. While she may have looked like she was laid back and inattentive sitting there, you knew that every one of those sharp senses of hers were alert and on the look out for any potential threat to you.

In truth, you were perfectly capable of defending yourself; pregnant or not. Having been one of the top shinobi warriors in your clan, you were skilled enough to put many of the experienced clans men face down into the dirt. Allowing Canary to come along was to help put Illumi's concerns at ease more than anything else. That, and you enjoyed the young lady's company. She wasn't quite as uptight as most of the other butlers.

"And I really wish you would give Illumi a chance," you sighed as you refreshed your cup from the decorated cast iron pot that was sitting on the table. "He's been working really hard to improve himself and isn't the same person you first met."

Your mind flashed back to when Illumi had arrived for yours and his first meet. Mother had tagged along to make sure you would not be killed right on the spot, something you still rolled your eyes at to this day. He had been extremely formal in a robotic and monotone way.

In the most deadpan manner you had ever seen, he had held up his hand and said, "Hello (y/n)'s mother, I am here to take meet with your daughter to make sure we are compatible before we are married." It was kind of cute, in an odd psychopathic kind of way.

You were pretty sure your mother had spied on the two of you through out the rest of that day.

"And no," you continued the conversation with a small shake of your head, "I meant what I said. I've pointed out to him that he needs to bond with the girls more and made the suggestion for him, and him alone, to spend the day with them."

"Is that man even capable of 'bonding'?"

There was a loud "tink" and the sudden sensation of burning washed over your fingers. You had broken your teacup. Your building frustration and anger towards your mother's comments had caused you to squeeze it too hard. The delicate little cup had no chance in the powerful grip you had placed around it.

Canary stood instantly and began cleaning up the hot liquid before you even had a chance to blink or fully register what had happened.

"Are you alright, mam?" she asked, honestly concerned. You let out a frustrated sigh and shook the remaining liquid from your scalded fingers.

"Yes, dear, I'm fine." Your gaze locked with your mother's, "If you can't speak kindly about my husband, mother, then I'm afraid that we are going to have to call it a day." A cold, deadly tone harbored within your voice.

Your mother sternly held your glare for a few seconds before she closed her eyes and sighed, her body posture crumpled a bit.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)," she said, slightly shaking her head, "I guess I still feel bitter that your choice on whom to marry was taken away from you. And, I still wo-"

"Worry about me and the girls?" you interrupted. Canary had finished cleaning the mess and brought you a fresh cup. She gracefully filled it from the same pot you had just used then turned and bowed to you ever so slightly. You thanked her and asked her to return to what she had been doing.

"Mother, that always seems to be your excuse for your rudeness," your tone was accusatory; your face, stern. "It's been over seven years since Illumi and I were married and I honestly can't think of a time I've been happier."

Your mother grimaced.

"Even though our marriage was arranged, he treats me as his equal. Together we have worked on slowly undoing the countless years of damage his parents did to him since he was a child. He's made huge progress, but he will never be what you and I would consider 'normal'. Emotions will always be something difficult for him to understand. Not to mention feel or show. But believe me when I say he does love and care for me, as well as his children."

Upon saying your last sentence your mother had begun to open her mouth to make a retort, but you already knew what she was going to say and help up a single finger to silence her.

"Before you even say 'a man who loves his children shouldn't have to be told when he needs to bond with them', keep in mind that his parents never bonded with him. Or at least not in a healthy, loving manner. The fact that he was willing to listen to me, understand what I was telling him, and put in the effort for today speaks volumes."

You had to stop and take a deep, calming breath. The rising volume of your voice, along with your rising blood pressure and heart rate, was starting to upset the twins within your belly. You could feel them kicking frantically and moving about as you angrily defended their father from your mother. Taking another deep breath, your forced yourself to relax the best you could and began to rub your belly again.

"I know your weren't entirely happy with your arranged marriage with father," you continued in a calmer state, "but I am. I love Illumi, mother, so very much. I'm sorry that you and father couldn't find a way to love each other the way Illumi and I do. But please, do not try to insert your bitter, negative emotions into our lives. If you can't be happy for me and respect my family as a whole, then I am afraid we will simply have to go back to writing letters to one another until you can learn to do so."

A glowering expression was now etched upon your mothers face, your own had become deadpan. The two of you stared at one another in silence for a few minutes as the town's normal hustle and bustle of people continued to flow passed you.

Your mother's lips scowled as she took a deep breath through her nose.

"Well, in that case, I do believe I will be heading back home," she flatly announced. Your mother removed her napkin from her lap and tossed it onto the table as she rose from her seat. With hands shaking from her own anger, she quickly gathered herself together and started to turn to walk away.

"Farewell, my daughter," she called back over her shoulder, "do contact me when my grandsons are born, will you? I think you will find that I am right by that point."

You watched the back of her head as she walked away until she disappeared into the crowd. You continued to glare at the spot you had last seen her, the edges of your vision began to turn red and your body began to tremble with seething rage.

The sudden feeling of your teacup being plucked out of your hands snapped you out of your downward spiral. Looking over, Canary was standing beside now holding your cup.

"I'm sorry, mam, but I did not want you to burn yourself again," she informed softly. You looked down at your hands just in time to see the last of the white fading from your knuckles and fingers. You must have been squeezing it without realizing it again.

With a sigh your shoulders drooped and you leaned all the way back into your chair, allowing your head to fall back. You watched the clouds lazily drift across the sky above you as your mind turned.

I'm sorry father... I tried to mend things with her, but, she's just so damn stubborn and bitter!

"Shall we call it a day, mam?" Canary asked.

"No," you lifted your head to look into her gentle grey eyes, "I'm not expected home for another few hours. And to be honest, I do not wish to return home while in such a foul mood."

"Understandable," Canary set the teacup back down in front of you. "What do you propose?"

Taking a sip from your still hot tea, you mulled things over in your head a little. Looking at the scenery around you, you hummed in thought and lightly tapped a finger nail on your cup.

"Ah!" you exclaimed. "How about we have a girls day and do a bit of shopping together before we get something to eat. It should be about time to go home by the time we're done. Maybe we could even get something for your lady friend, Amane" A sly, knowing grin graced your lips and you winked at her.

"Eh!" she started and looked down, her cheeks darkened a little. "You.. You really don't have to do that, mam."

"Oh, come on," you laughed lightly, "you know you're the closest person I have to a friend besides Illumi. And shopping with him isn't the same as shopping with you!"

"I have got to admit," Canary added softly, "Master Illumi does have some interesting tastes when it comes to his choice in outfits."

You laughed a little louder.

"That he does, my dear. I suspect he may be getting some influence from that clown friend of his."

You paid for the drinks and the two of you were off.

Since this was the first time you were having boys, you wanted to get some new things for the nursery. Most of what you needed or wanted was going to be ordered online, but you still enjoyed going from store to store looking at what each one had to offer.

After a few hours and many a shopping bag later, you and Canary eventually stop to have dinner. You were more than ready to get off your feet for a little while. The first two times you were pregnant you didn't tire so easily and your feet were not as quick to swell or become sore. Carrying twice as much baby, the case was a little different this time round.

While waiting for your food, you decided to text Illumi.

You: We're stopping for dinner before we head home, should I bring anything for you and the girls?

You nibbled on an appetizer while awaiting your husbands response. It didn't take him long as he sent a picture with a blurred portion of his face in the shot and the girls making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with chips in the background. It seemed they were both making a bit of a mess, and was that peanut butter on Illumi's cheek?

Illumi: No, we're good, thank you. See you soon.

You laughed and showed the picture to Canary who smiled and chuckled lightly. Peanut butter and jelly with chips most definitely would not have been your first choice for dinner. But seeing as Illumi had very limited experience with cooking, it was probably the safest route to go. Most importantly, it looked like they were having a good time.

Idle chit chat was pleasantly shared between you and Canary as the two of you enjoyed your food. Once dinner was done and paid for, all the shopping bags were packed into the car and the two of you were on your way home.

It didn't take long for you to start dozing off a little. The combination of a roller coaster of emotions, having been on your feat, being pregnant, and then having a nice large meal had really drained you. The gentle motion of the car was no help either.

Before you knew it, Canary was calling out to you.

"Lady (y/n), we're home."

With a mild start you became fully alert. Blinking, you looked out your window and saw your family's home. Separate and a fair distance from the Zoldyck family mansion, the large house was built for you Illumi just before (o/d) was born.

You got out of the car and stretched, then turned to Canary.

"Could you please take those bags to the nursery? I'll go through them later."

"As you please, mam," Canary replied with a slight bow.

Thanking her, you turn and head up the stairs to the front door. Upon entering your home, you removed your shoes, set them aside and hung your purse on it's hook. Your ears were alert for the sounds of your daughters and husband. The house was quiet.

"Illu? (o/d)? (y/o)?" you called.

"They're in the girls' room, lady (y/n)," a familiar voice replied from the kitchen. Coming round the corner, you found Amane cleaning up the dinner mess your husband and children left behind.

The mess wasn't terrible. Bread and chip crumbs, smeared jelly and peanut butter on the counters as well as some spilt milk. The sink was filling with soapy water for the dinner dishes to be washed, dried, and put away since their wasn't enough to run the dishwasher. The girls had most definitely made larger messes in the past, but you felt a little guilty none the less.

"Ah, Amane, I'm sorry. Illumi should have known to clean up after they were done."

Amane just shook her head.

"It's alright, mam. There really isn't much to it."

"I know, but still.." you smile and laugh lightly, "Thank you."

You continue further into the house towards the girls' room. As you got closer, you could faintly hear your daughters' voices. Curiosity took hold of you and you brought your stealth training into play. Slowly creeping up to the open door, you carefully leaned in and peaked into your daughters' room.

You blinked once. Twice. Several more times as your mouth slowly fell open in complete and utter shock.

Your daughters were sitting in their small chairs at a low, round table made for children while you husband was sitting on his knees. There was also a large stuffed dog that looked a lot like Mike sitting in one of the children's chairs at the table. (o/d)'s pastel colored plastic tea set was set up about the table. Little plastic plates held evidence there had once been treats upon them as there were cookie crumbs left behind.

The girls were dressed in pretty kimonos, gifts from grandmother Kikyo, and were wearing makeup. To much eye shadow and rouge, messy lipstick, you recognized (o/d) handy work. They were having a conversation with Illumi occasionally adding in a comment or answering a question when one was directed to him. Every so often, one of them, including Illumi, would take a sip from their plastic cup.

But, it wasn't just the sight of your fearsome assassin husband playing tea party with his two beautiful little girls that had caught you so off guard. No, it was how he looked.

Illumi was wearing one of your fancy kimonos over his clothes. The size of his chest and shoulders prevented the front from closing properly, but the three of them didn't seem to mind. His long, luxurious hair was tied into several messy braids of which varied in size. Each long braid ended with a pastel colored ribbon tied into a bow.

Copious amounts of makeup in the same manner as the girls was proof that Illumi's face had also been a canvas for (o/d)'s application practice. Jade green eyeshadow nearly reached his high sitting eyebrows and went as far down as tops of his cheekbone. The eyeshadow nearly blended into the large amount of rose pink rogue that practically covered the entirety of his cheeks. Dark plum colored lipstick was messily applied to his thin lips in a manner that reminded you of a comic book villain from your childhood. Illumi honestly looked more clown-like than his friend.

Once your initial shock had faded, you found yourself smiling from ear to ear. Quietly, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and brought up the camera. You made sure to keep your movements slow as you carefully aimed your phone lens towards your family.

Just as you were about to take the picture, (y/d) caught sight of you.

"Mama!!" she happily cheered.

Her actions caused both (o/d) and Illumi to glance at (y/d) then look in the same direction she was. That's when you took the picture. It was perfect.

"Oh, hello dear, did you just get home?" Illumi inquired.

"I did," you replied. You came into the room and smiled at each one of them in turn. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your tea party my darlings."

"It's okay mama," (o/d) said, "we can move Mike Jr. and you can join us!"

Before you could respond, (o/d) started to get up to move the stuffed animal. But then Illumi held up a hand, causing her to stop.

"Actually, I do believe it is close to yours and your sisters bedtime. The two of you should get ready for bed."

"Awwww," both the girls cried out in disappointment, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

They really must have been having fun if they don't want to stop. I'm glad.

"But, we wanna keep playing, papa," (y/d) whined. She was starting to get tears in eyes. It was a sign that she actually was starting to get sleepy, even though she didn't really show it. (y/d) only really ever cried anymore when she was starting to get tired.

"Now, now," Illumi reached over and patted (y/d) on the head. "We can play more tomorrow after lunch when (o/d) is done with her training. I don't have to leave for my mission for another couple of days, so we have plenty of time to play."

"You promise?" (y/d) sniffled.

"I promise," he assured his littler girl in his usual expressionless tone.

"Alright then, girls, I'll help you wash up for bed. Illumi? Would please take the dirty dishes to Amane? She's in the kitchen cleaning up right now."

"Yes, I can do that." Illumi stood and started to collect the dishes when (y/d) suddenly grabbed one of his arms.

"Papa, please read our bedtime story!"

Illumi's eyebrows rose a little. He had never been asked to read their bedtime story before. This prospect excited (o/d) as her little face lit up and she eagerly grabbed her father's free arm.

"Yeah, papa! Please? Could you read us a story tonight? Please?"

You laughed at your daughters' enthusiasm. The sight of them begging their father like this was just too cute. Illumi looked over at you and you wave your hand palm up and gestured to the girls as if to say, "well?"

He looked back down at his daughters and gave a single nod. "Very well then. Go with mama and I will read you two a story when you are all cleaned up."

"Yeeaaahhh!!" the girls cheered together and bolted out of the room for the bathroom. Illumi watched as they ran out, a small, barely noticeable smile was on his colored lips. His dark, wide eyed gaze then turned to you as you wrapped your arms around one of his now vacant ones.

"I take it you three had fun today?"

"Yes, I do believe the mission was a success."

You suppressed a laugh which caused you to make a noise akin to a snort.

"Bonding with your daughters is not a mission, my love, but it is a worthy goal. And it seems that today was a good step towards that goal."

"I do not see much of a difference, but I will take your word for it."

You rolled your eyes and went to kiss him on the cheek, but quickly stopped yourself when you remembered the thick layer of makeup and kissed his nose instead.

Upon hearing the girls starting to make a ruckus in the bathroom you released your husband and turned in their direction. Illumi took this as his cue to continue collecting the dishes for Amane to clean.

A few minutes into helping the girls clean up their faces a startled cry from the kitchen nearly made you jump out of your skin. You became alert and listened carefully for any signs of a fight starting. There where none. However, you could hear the voices of Illumi, Canary and Amane talking in a light hearted manner.

"I think papa scared Amane," (o/d) giggled. You blinked at her and quickly pieced together what she was thinking.

With the way Illumi looked at the moment, his face and hair done up and wearing clothes in an odd fashion, Amane may have not recognized him right away. You couldn't help but chuckle a little at this realization.

"I think you're right, (o/d)."

Once the girls were cleaned up and in their night clothes they both jumped into (o/d)'s bed just as Illumi was returning. (y/d) had already chosen the book for the night and was excitedly waving it in the air. It was "The Big Book of Bedtime Stories".

Illumi settled down between the girls who snuggled up to him and got comfortable as he turned to the right page.

"Alright then," Illumi cleared his throat to begin the story, "Once upon a time, in a forest thick with trees and dancing with life, there was a small family that lived in a cottage by the river."

Illumi continued reading in his steady, monotone voice. It was soothing, if not somewhat hypnotic. You even caught yourself dozing off while seated at the foot of the bed. Looking over at your family, you found yourself smiling once again. It had not even been ten minutes and they were both sound asleep.

Normally, it would take around 15-20 minutes before the girls would even start to fall asleep. But with the constant activities of the day with their father and his steady hypnotic tone in his story telling, it was almost like Illumi had cast the perfect sleeping spell.

Your husband had not yet realized the girls so you took out your phone and snuck another picture without him realizing it. You then reached out and gentle squeezed his foot in your hand. He paused and glanced up to see you pointing at your daughters in which he followed your direction. Looking down at the sleeping figures, Illumi's usual deadpan expression softened ever so slightly and the corners of his mouth turned up into a tiny smile.

Looking back up at you, you gave him a thumbs up and stood up from the bed. He carefully scoot down between the girls to reach where you had been sitting. Once there, he too stood up from the bed then turned and carefully scooped up (y/d) in to his strong arms. Without producing even the slightest of sounds he strode across the room and tucked (y/d) into her bed as you tucked in (o/d).

You followed Illumi out of the room, turning off the light as you went. Once a little ways from the room, you spoke.

"I didn't expect them to fall asleep so quickly. Maybe I should have you read to them more often."

"Hmmm, perhaps," he said thoughtfully. "Although I am sure having a long day had something to do with their tired state."

"Oh, I'm sure you're right. But still, I think you did a really good job." Illumi actually smiled at your praise. "Now, lets head to our bathroom, I'll help you get cleaned up."

The two of you headed into the bathroom where you went straight to your vanity to retrieve your makeup removal products.

"Oh," you heard Illumi exclaim causing you to look up at him. He was leaning across the vanity and looking at himself closely in the mirror. After a few moments he turned towards you with his usual expression and pointed to his face.

"(o/d) really did a number on me, didn't she. I can see how I startled Amane. I'm hideous."

You blinked, then burst out laughing. Illumi was somewhat startled by your reaction and he turned to look at himself in the mirror again while still pointing to his face.

"I honestly don't see what's so funny."

"I'm sorry, dear," you gasped between bouts of laughter, tears in your eyes," I- It's just- Are you just now seeing your face?!"

"Well, sort of. (o/d) put this on just before the tea party. She showed me with one of their toy mirrors, but I figured since it was a toy it didn't show very well. It appears I was wrong."

Your laughter died down and you carefully wiped your tears from your eyes.

"My love, I think your wonderful." You smiled at him. "You're an amazing man that made his daughters the happiest children in the world today. And for that, you are absolutely beautiful."

Without moving Illumi simply closed his eyes and a smile of accomplishment and joy spread across his lips. You let him bask in the praise for a few more moments before you reached out and turned him face you. You sat him down on the vanity stool then set to work wiping off the frighteningly large amounts of makeup away with a removal wipe.

"How did things go with your mother today?" Illumi asked. You paused in what you were doing a little to long, causing him to open his eyes. His large, obsidian orbs gazed into your smaller (e/c) ones. "That bad?"

You sighed and continued what you were doing, "Yes, she refused to be nice once again. I probably won't even bother to contact her again until the babies are born."

"That's right," Illumi remembered, a slight sound of excitement in his voice, "you had an appointment this morning before you were to meet your mother. How did that go? What did you find out?"

Your mother's voice echoed through your mind. Her response to the news you gave her when you had first met for tea that afternoon.

"Once he finds out those babies are males he's going to insist on training them the same way he was trained. Brutally, and without love or compassion. The traditional Zoldyck family way."

She's wrong! you thought bitterly. But a shadow of worry made your stomach twist into a small knot.

"(y/n)?"

You blinked, you had stopped cleaning his face again while in thought. You weren't sure what expression you had on your own face at that moment, but you could see it was causing your husband to worry.

Taking his hands into yours you brought them up and placed them on your round belly. A warm, loving smile graced your lips as you peered into his eyes.

"My love, you will soon be the proud father of two sons."

You nearly cried when you saw actual joy show on Illumi's face. He leaned forward and brought his head down, touching his forehead to your belly. You cupped the side of his face with one hand and gently began to stroke his head with the other.

He was silent for a few minutes, living in the moment. Then Illumi shuddered a little as a multitude of feelings surged through him. Joy, fear, excitement, concern, love, anger. It was overwhelming to him.

"My sons-" he choked on the emotional overload. "My sons, they will be the ones to break the cycle. They will not go through what I went through."

A surge of relief washed through you causing tears of joy to form in your own eyes. You gently turned Illumi's head upwards to face you and was stunned to see there were actual tears in his eyes as well. Leaning down you planted a warm, loving kiss to his colored lips. Not giving a damn about the lipstick that was now smearing all over your own lips. You then touched your forehead to his and nuzzled your nose against his own.

"I'm so proud of you, Illu," you spoke softly, "You've come so far. I love you so much, my husband."

"My wife," he whisper back, his breath brushing your lips, "I couldn't have come this far without you. Thank you, (y/n), I love you, too.”

You broke away slowly, peering down at your husband with so much love you didn't even know you could emit. His smile was still on his lips as he reached up and brushed his thumb across the smeared lipstick on your lips.

"Yeah, you're still a mess," you laughed lightly. You grabbed a fresh wipe and set back to work. "Once I am done here you just need to give your face a quick wash. I'll start us a bath then help you take out all of the braids."

"I would like that," Illumi replied, still smiling.

By the time you have cleaned the majority of the makeup from his face most of his deadpan expression had returned. The only difference from the norm was that he still had a shine in his eyes and a small smile on his now clean lips.

He quickly washed his face with special soaps then set to work untying the ribbons from his hair, carefully undoing the long braids. You started the bath. Holding your fingers under the running water from the bath faucet until it was the right temperature, then set the plug. You added yours and Illumi's favorite essential oils before going over to help him with the braids.

You couldn't help but smile at how he was practically glowing. The two of you made quick work of the braids. You were amazed how not a single hair tangled even in the messiest of braids. Secretly, you believed your husband somehow used some of his nen to keep his hair from becoming tangled and knotted.

Once Illumi's hair was free of braids and put up into a bun, the two of you stripped to nothing. Illumi climbed into the bath first and settled down without making even the slightest ripple in the water. He held out a hand for you to use for balance as you climbed in next. You settled between Illumi's legs and leaned back into him with a sigh of pure contentment.

Leaning your head to the side and back onto his shoulder, you felt the warmth of the water seep into your muscles causing your body to relax completely against Illumi's body. Illumi moved his hands to rest on your belly and leaned his head against yours. The two of you relaxed in silence for a few minutes. Both lost in their own thoughts. For once, it was Illumi that broke the silence.

"(y/n)?" You hummed a response. "Have you thought of names yet?"

You chuckled, "Not yet, dear. Do you have some ideas?"

Illumi went into a long list of names and the meanings behind each one. You would comment here and there but mostly just let him talk. It was so rare for him to talk this much voluntarily. And as he rambled on about names and what fun things he wanted to do with all his children, you couldn't help but smile.

You were wrong, mother, you thought to yourself, My husband may be flawed to you, but he's absolutely perfect to me. And that's all that truly matters.

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