#how was their first thought not “undercover mission” please-

[silverraes]

I swear this special investigation force operates entirely based on vibes and action movie tropes like

oh this guy didn't go back to his police unit? oh but he also hasn't resigned? oh he has some kinda mafia tattoo? oh the boss of said kinda mafia is a famous politician? oh someone who was known to be an undercover cop and involved in this case got killed before? oh both of these people have connections to the same inspector? oh said inspector doesn't want outsiders to get involved in this case?

yeah must be a scheme to control the police

[gubsbuubs]

Trophy wife

Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.

Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.

"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”

“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.

Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"

"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.

As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”

“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.

And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.

Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.

And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.

To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.

"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."

Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”

"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.

“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.

--x--

As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.

By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.

"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.

"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.

Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.

As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.

"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"

"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."

"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."

"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."

"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.

"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."

"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."

Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."

"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."

"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"

Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."

"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.

Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."

Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.

"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."

"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.

"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.

"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.

--x--

JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.

As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.

My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?

I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.

Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.

From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.

"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."

With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."

I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.

"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.

"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.

“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.

"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.

From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.

I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.

"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.

"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.

--x--

As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.

The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."

As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.

Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.

The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?

The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.

The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.

As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.

"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.

His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."

"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."

We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.

"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.

"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"

His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.

"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.

I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?

"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."

"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.

“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”

Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."

I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.

"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.

His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."

His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.

Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me

"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.

"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.

As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.

As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.

Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."

Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.

Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?

The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.

"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."

My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.

"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.

I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.

“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.

"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.

"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.

"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go

"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.

"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.

Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.

Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.

After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.

Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."

"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.

"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"

And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.

His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

[natsaffection]

I’m sorry if this is too much to ask

I recently went through a breakup with my girlfriend (recently as in last night) and I need some Natty fluff and comfort. For an idea reader and nat are bestfriends and have been through S.H.I.E.L.D for many years before Nat was promoted to an Avenger and reader was left behind as an agent.

Reader broke up with their relationship a day before Nat got home from a mission(clarification that nat n reader share apartments) injured and its just the two worrying about eachother to mindlessly cuddle and comfort eachother.

could add in soft sex for plot but ill let you decide the rest 😞✊

Held Together. | N.R

Warnings: friends brake up, injury

Word count: 2,3k

A/n: Hey you. I know this isn't going to help you much, and I definitely want to lend you my ear if you ever want to talk about things like this. I know how it feels, and I also know that saying it will get better doesn't exactly help. So please don't hesitate to write to me. 🩵

The first time you saw Natasha, you were both in the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility, hidden deep within the confines of a classified location. The facility was stark, all concrete walls and fluorescent lighting, with the faint scent of sweat and determination lingering in the air. You were new, just another recruit with a mysterious past, handpicked for reasons that weren't fully explained to you. But then again, secrecy was the foundation of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you had learned quickly that questions were often better left unasked.

Natasha stood out immediately. Not just because of her striking red hair, which seemed to catch the light even in the dullest corners of the room, but because of the aura of quiet confidence she exuded. She moved with a precision that spoke of years of experience, each step deliberate, each movement economical. It was clear that she was in a league of her own. But it wasn’t her skill that drew you to her, it was the look in her eyes. Beneath the stoic mask, there was a flicker of something familiar, something you recognized in yourself. The guarded pain of someone who had seen too much, too soon. The training sessions were brutal. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t coddle its recruits, and you were pushed to your limits, physically and mentally. But every time you faltered, Natasha was there, a silent presence at your side, pushing you to keep going. She wasn’t the type to offer comforting words or a reassuring pat on the back, but her actions spoke louder than any words could. She trained with you, sparred with you, and when you were both covered in bruises and gasping for breath, she would sit with you in the quiet moments, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

Over time, what began as mutual respect grew into something deeper. You found yourself seeking her out, not just in training but outside of it. Late nights in the common room, nursing cups of coffee and talking about everything and nothing at all. You learned that Natasha wasn’t just a hardened spy. She was fiercely intelligent, with a dry wit that could cut through any tension. She had a past that she kept close to the vest, but in those quiet moments, she would let slip little pieces of herself, and you would do the same. It was during one of those late-night conversations that you both discovered just how much you had in common. You shared a dark sense of humor, born from lives that had demanded you grow up too fast. You both knew what it was like to be used as a tool, to have your choices stripped away, and to fight tooth and nail to reclaim some semblance of control.

The turning point in your friendship came during a mission in Prague. You had been sent in as backup for Natasha, who was deep undercover, trying to extract a high-value target from an enemy compound. The mission had gone south, bad intel, compromised routes, everything that could go wrong did. Natasha was pinned down, outgunned and outnumbered, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, you thought you might lose her. But you didn’t hesitate. You stormed the compound, using every skill you had learned, every lesson drilled into you during those grueling training sessions. You fought your way to her, the two of you battling side by side, back to back, until you managed to extract the target and make your escape.

When you were safely back at the extraction point, covered in dust and blood, Natasha had turned to you, her eyes fierce with a mix of adrenaline and gratitude. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave you was all you needed. From that moment on, you were partners in every sense of the word. There was an unspoken understanding between you..a bond forged in the heat of battle, one that neither of you questioned. Over the years, that bond only grew stronger. You became the team that everyone wanted on their mission, the pair that could get the job done no matter the odds. You were the calm to her storm, the steady hand that balanced her fierce determination. And she was your anchor, the one person you knew you could rely on, no matter what.

But it wasn’t all about the missions. There were moments of light in the darkness inside jokes that no one else understood, late-night movies when you both should have been sleeping, and the kind of trust that only came from knowing someone inside and out. You knew her favorite coffee order, the songs she hummed when she thought no one was listening, and the way she always checked her weapons twice before a mission, even when she didn’t need to. And she knew you, knew the nightmares that woke you in the middle of the night, the reason you kept your distance from most people, and the way you always carried that one memento from your past, a small token of a life you barely remembered. She never pushed, never pried, but her presence was a constant reassurance, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this world.

Then came the day when everything shifted. Natasha was summoned to Nick office a meeting that would change the course of both your lives. When she emerged, she looked different, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, but there was something else too a distance, a sense of something slipping away. She told you about the Avengers, about the offer Fury had made. You could see the excitement in her eyes, the way her posture straightened as she spoke about it. And why wouldn’t she be excited? It was a chance to be part of something bigger, something that could change the world. You listened, nodded in all the right places, and when she asked what you thought, you plastered on a smile and told her how proud you were.

But inside, your heart ached. You knew that things would never be the same. You didn’t want to hold her back, didn’t want to be the reason she missed out on something extraordinary, but the thought of losing the connection you shared filled you with a dread you couldn’t shake. And slowly, that fear began to materialize.

As Natasha got more involved with the Avengers, the calls became less frequent, the visits even more so. You found yourself spending more time alone, throwing yourself into missions to drown out the loneliness. The once unbreakable bond you shared felt like it was fraying, the threads pulling apart one by one. The more you tried to reach out, the more distant she seemed, until one day, you realized that the Natasha you knew was almost a stranger to you now. She had new friends, new responsibilities, a new life. And where you once stood side by side, you were now watching from the sidelines, unsure of where you fit in her world anymore.

But the memories remained. Every time you walked past the training room, you could almost hear the echoes of your past conversations, the laughter that once filled the empty spaces. The ghost of what you had once had lingered, haunting you in the quiet moments. You didn’t know what the future held for you and Natasha, but one thing was certain: the bond you had shared was changing, evolving into something you couldn’t yet understand. And as much as it hurt, you knew that you had to find your place in this new reality, even if it meant doing it without her by your side.

The apartment felt too quiet, the silence oppressive as you sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the empty walls. Your things were mostly packed, boxes lining the hallway, and the last remnants of your life here waiting to be sealed up and carried away. You had made your decision the day before, the weight of it still sitting heavily in your chest.

You had ended it. Ended the friendship, the partnership, the life you had built with Natasha. The pain of watching her drift further away into her new life as an Avenger had become too much to bear. Every day had been a reminder of how much you were losing her, and it had finally reached a breaking point. You couldn’t stand being the one left behind anymore, always wondering when or if things would go back to the way they were. So, you had left a note on the kitchen table, explaining as best you could, trying to make her understand why you needed to leave, why you couldn’t keep living in the shadow of her new world. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it to her face, not after everything you’d been through together, so you had written the words, packed your things, and left the apartment.

But now, sitting in the empty space you once called home, the reality of what you’d done settled in, and it hurt more than you could have imagined. You didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to give up on what you had with Natasha, but you didn’t see any other way to protect your heart from breaking further. It was supposed to be simple. You would leave, and Natasha would come back to an empty apartment, read the note, and understand. She’d move on, and so would you. That was the plan.

Except plans never go the way you expect them to.

The sound of the front door creaking open jolted you from your thoughts. Your heart stopped as you heard footsteps heavy, uneven. Natasha was back. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be gone, far away, already beginning the process of moving on. But you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Not yet. You stood up, feeling your heart race as you heard Natasha’s familiar footsteps drawing closer. When she finally appeared in the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. She looked exhausted, her skin pale, and there was a grimace on her face that she couldn’t quite hide.

But what really terrified you was the blood on her jacket and the way she was cradling her side as if trying to hold herself together. “Natasha..” you whispered, the word barely audible as the shock of seeing her like this hit you. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, she just stared, as if trying to process that you were really there. “Y/n..?”

“You’re hurt.” you said, your voice trembling as you took a closer look. "It’s not as bad as it looks..” she replied, trying to offer a reassuring smile, but it faltered as she winced in pain. “Stop pretending.” you snapped, though your voice was laced more with worry than anger. “Why didn’t you go to the medbay?”

Natasha shook her head, letting out a strained sigh “I just..needed to come home.” she said softly, her eyes flickering around the room, taking in the packed boxes, the half-empty closet. “I thought you would be gone..?” The words hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with the tension of everything that had happened, everything that hadn’t been said.

“I was supposed to be..” you admitted. “Come here, let me help you with that.” She didn’t resist as you guided her to the bed, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she tried to stay composed. You carefully unzipped her jacket, wincing at the sight of the blood-soaked bandages underneath. It wasn’t the worst injury you’d seen her with, but it was bad enough to make your hands shake as you reached for the first aid kit. She winced as you peeled the blood-soaked fabric away, revealing a nasty gash along her side. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was deep enough to require stitches.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion as you began to clean the wound, trying to keep your hands steady. “I didn’t want you to worry..” Natasha replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess that plan didn’t work out too well.”

“Damn it, Natasha..” you muttered, blinking back tears as you worked. “You can’t just..you can’t just keep doing this. Keeping things from me. Pushing me away.”

“I wasn’t trying to push you away.” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I just..I didn’t know how to handle all of this. You, the Avengers, everything. I thought I could balance it all, but I was wrong.” You paused, your breath hitching as the weight of her words settled over you. “Nat-” you started, but she cut you off.

“I read your note.” she said, her eyes glistening as she looked down at you. “I know why you left, and I can’t blame you. I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I forgot about the one person who’s always been there for me. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you.” Tears slipped down your cheeks as you finished dressing her wound, your hands lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary. “You haven’t lost me.” you whispered, your voice shaking. “But I can’t keep living like this, Natasha. It’s tearing me apart..”

She reached out, her hand trembling as she cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing away your tears. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I never wanted to hurt you.” You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes as the warmth of her hand seeped into your skin. “I know.” you whispered. “But things have to change. We can’t keep going like this.”

Natasha nodded, her own tears spilling over as she pulled you into a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around you as if she was afraid to let go. You buried your face in her shoulder, the scent of her familiar, comforting even through the layers of blood and sweat. You both held on to each other as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded, the only thing keeping you from falling apart. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with the sound of your combined breaths, the rise and fall of your chests in sync, the steady beat of her heart against your ear. “I don’t want to lose you..” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you hadn’t said.

“You won’t.” she promised, her voice filled with quiet determination. “I won’t let you.” There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken emotions, and then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips softly to hers. The kiss was tender, hesitant, as if you were both afraid to break the fragile connection between you. But the moment your lips met, it was like something inside you both clicked into place, the distance and the pain melting away, replaced by the familiar warmth of being with each other. Natasha kissed you back, her lips moving slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“I’m sorry..” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Shh..” Natasha murmured, her hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “We’ll figure it out.” You nodded, unable to speak as you felt the tears slipping down your cheeks. Natasha gently wiped them away, her touch so soft it made your heart ache. You didn’t know what the future held for you both, but in this moment, with her arms around you and her lips still tingling from the kiss, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Carefully, you helped her lie down on the bed, her head resting on the pillow as you pulled the blanket over her. But before you could move away, Natasha caught your hand, her grip surprisingly strong despite her exhaustion. “Stay with me.” she whispered, her eyes pleading. You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you crawled into bed beside her. Natasha immediately curled into you, her head resting on your chest, her arm draped over your waist. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, as if you were afraid she might slip away if you let go.

The two of you lay there in silence, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing and the steady beat of your hearts. The tension, the hurt, the fear..it all seemed to fade away as you held each other, the warmth of her body against yours a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you for so long. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, your fingers gently stroking her hair as she sighed contentedly against you. “I love you, Nat..” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I love you too.” she murmured, her voice filled with so much tenderness it made your heart ache. You tightened your hold on her, burying your face in her hair as you let the weight of the day finally slip away. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[mistress-amidala]

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

❛ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ❜

PAIRINGS: Unburnt Vader x Rebel reader SYNOPSIS: You go on undercover mission as an Imperial, catching the eye of none other than the infamous sith lord, Lord Vader. One of your most notorious enemies, it's a good thing he knows you by your alias. Not by your face. For now at least... WARNINGS: Deceit, smut, swearing... NOTES: This is my first time writing smut so it is by no means a masterpiece. But I hope you like it. This Vader x rebel reader series I read ages ago inspired me to write my own. I can’t find it but if you know what I’m talking about please let me know.

「 You 」

Three years working for the Rebellion, and not once could I have pictured ending up… here.

Bent over, on the desk of Lord Vader. Yes, Lord Vader. Darth Vader, the Emperor’s apprentice. My breath came out shaky. No surprise considering I was being practically impaled by Darth Vader’s cock. Moan after moan tumbled from my lips, my jaw gone slack from my seemingly unending cries of pleasure. My fingers clutched the end of the table like my life depended on it. As it creaked from his unrelenting thrusts, his hips meeting mine. The slapping of skin echoed through the room, followed by his loud grunts and occasional whimpers. His soft yet calloused hands gripped my hips like a vice. My body rocking into the desk with each thrust, his cock stretching me out. It felt like he was about to split me in half, “doing so well for me sweetheart.” He grunts in between sharp thrusts. “Fuck…” He mumbles breathlessly, I could feel his length throbbing inside me. Looking down, I see his balls swinging with each thrust. The warm skin of his palm rubbing my back, “like what you see princess.” Reaching his remaining hand on your hip to your clit. Rubbing circles on the sensitive nub making me jolt. Letting out another moan, “mmm… You like that don’t you sweetheart?” He asks rhetorically, giving another sharp thrust. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, my pussy clenching around his length. As my orgasm hits, cumming all over his cock.

He didn’t relent, continuing to forcefully thrust into me without fail. His cock drilling my cum back into me as he threw his head back. Moaning without shame, “f-fuck sweetheart.” He stutters and I feel his hips tremble as I whine in overstimulation. The tip of his cock kissing my cervix as his breath hitches, his hips jolt forward. Followed by the release of his warm seed, painting my insides white. He collapses forward onto me. His skin sweaty and his weight pinning me to the desk. As he gives a few more slow ruts, a soft whimper escaping him. “Mmm… think I’m gonna have to keep you all to myself.” He whispers, kissing in between my shoulder blades. Stilling his thrusts, running his warm hands up and down my sides gently in a soothing motion. “Hmm? Make you my little Empress, would you like that sweetheart?” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Planting soft kisses along the skin there as I caught my breath. “Bet you would…” He whispers, nibbling on my earlobe. “Could have everything you’ve ever dreamed, princess.” Giving my waist a gentle squeeze, “all you’d have to do is warm my bed darling. Have you on your back, taking my cock like a good girl…” He kisses the soft skin behind my ear, making me whimper. “Oh don’t be afraid darling, I’ll take such good care of you.” He whisper sweetly, gently prying my hands off the edge of the table. Rubbing the skin of my knuckles with his thumbs, releasing all the tension.

Intertwining our fingers, his thumbs stroking the back of my hands. He lets out a sigh, his warm breath hitting my neck. Goosebumps forming in its wake. He rests his chin on my shoulder, “how you feeling my sweet girl?” He asks softly, releasing one of my hands to gently brush the hair out of my face. Making me smile softly, oh maker. I nod slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’m okay…” He chuckles softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. While brushing his fingertips along the skin of my cheek, ever so lightly. As if I’d break if he was any rougher, “yeah? You took me so well sweetheart. So proud…” He gives my shoulder a gentle kiss, I could feel his cock softening slightly. “M’gonna-” He gets cut off my his commlink going off. He groans in annoyance, giving my shoulder another kiss. Before pivoting his head to the side. Picking it up from his desk, smirking slightly at the mess we’d made. I watch him roll his eyes, answering. “What?” He asks bluntly, the annoyance at being disturbed clear in his voice. A sheepish voice responds, clearly picking up on his irritation. “I’m sorry to disturb you My Lord, but the Emperor has personally requested your presence at our current meeti-” I hear him growl softly, the vibrations from his chest travelled into my own. Making me shiver slightly, he noticed. His hand on my cheek travelled back to my waist. Rubbing soft circles comfortingly, “I’ll be there.” He responded shortly, before crushing the commlink. Letting the pieces fall to the floor. He let out a sigh, dropping his head down. His forehead resting on my upper back. Nuzzling into it softly, he reminded me of a puppy. This was the almighty Darth Vader? Surely there has been some sort of mix up? “M’sorry sweetheart, I have to go.” He said softly, his voice just above a whisper. His hand on my waist travels up. Cradling the back of my head, turning it to the side gently. So his lips could meet mine, his kiss was surprisingly soft. All traces of previous annoyance had disappeared. Like footprints being washed away by the sea.

He intertwined our fingers again, giving my hand another gentle squeeze. I could feel him smiling into the kiss. Before he pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against the side of my head. He pulled off me a little. His weight no longer pinning me to the desk, but I could still feel a light layer of his sweat coating my back. He gently flips me onto my back, I wince slightly at the change in angles. Watching as his brows furrowed slightly at the stimulation. He leans back on top of me, his weight now pressing again my front. Chest to chest, I felt my nipples hardening again at the contact. He clearly felt it too as I saw a smirk tugging at his lips… His gorgeous, soft, plump lips… Stop that. He brought both hands up to my face, cupping it softly. Pressing his forehead against mine. Our noses brushing against each other. “You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his eyes searching mine. For something I wasn’t quite sure, was he actually worried about me?

I chuckle softly, “I’m fine.” He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, flicking it gently. His eyes were fixated on my lips as he watched it snap back into place, while he ran his tongue along his own. Coating them in a thin layer of his saliva, the lights in the room reflecting off them.

“Don’t do that…” He whispers, causing me to furrow my brows.

“Don’t do what?” I ask curiously, tilting my head to the side.

Making him bite his lip softly in response, “don’t be so adorable.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” He lets out a puff of air mockingly in response.

Poking the tip of my nose softly, “cheeky little thing.”

I smile softly, “you should probably be getting to your meeting. Sounds… important.” I whisper, observing him. Seeing some of his curls stuck to his forehead from our… activities. I absentmindedly brush them back, out of his face. His eyes watching my movement. Now I noticed his cheeks flushed a pastel pink, from the sex? Or was he… nervous? No way, no surely not…

His gentle voice brings me from my thoughts, “important?” He hums, pressing his soft lips to my forehead. “Probably not,” his husky voice uttered. “Just incompetent imperials needing me to do their work for them.” He all but sighs out, my eyebrows furrowed slightly. And I brought my arms up slowly, wrapping them around his torso. Which felt way more tiresome that it should of, maker what has he done to me? My limbs felt completely useless, I feel him take a deep breath. His chest rising and his stomach pressing into mine. Which also pushed his hips to meet mine, gently thrusting his cock deeper into me. Making me let out a soft whine, as his breath hitches. “Fuck sorry sweetheart I forgot,” he mutters. I could practically feel the grin on his face, as he trails a hand down. Gently pressing on my lower stomach, feeling where he was inside me. Making me jolt, clinging to his back. “Mmm your so warm princess, don’t wanna leave.” He pats my lower stomach softly, I could feel our combined release running down my thighs. “Your pussy’s clenching me so tight, don’t think you want me to leave either… hmm?” I could feel his smirk against my forehead, I poke his ribs in response. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Your really not as funny as you think you are,” I retort. He lifts his lips off my forehead, looking down at me.

“Aren’t I?” He teases, licking his lips.

I shake my head, “nope-” He leans down, silencing me with a kiss. He sucks on my bottom lip softly, while his hands trail up to my breasts. Cupping them, his thumbs toying with my nipples. Making me moan softly into his mouth, my back arching slightly. I pull back a little, and he lets a soft sigh slip.

“I gotta go to work sweetheart,” he mumbles. The disdain at having to leave clear in his voice. I cup his cheek softly, and he leans into my touch.

I try to fight off a smile, “I know…” With one last kiss he reluctantly pulls away, running his fingers along my cheek. He places his other hand on my hip, steadying me.

He looks down at his cock, a grin on his face. He slowly pulls out, letting out a low hiss from the stimulation. He watches our cum leak out of me. Crouching down he holds my legs apart, placing a gently kiss on my pussy. Licking a strip, making me shiver in response. A moan escaping his lips before he stands back up. His naked form on full display as he looks for his discarded clothes. Littered along the floor of his office.

He yanks his boxers and pants back up his legs, tucking his spent cock back in place. Before bending over, picking up his shirt and robe. Damn he has a nice ass for a man. I shake my head, covering my mouth with my hand. Get a grip. I look back to him and he was struggling to tie his robe, muttering curse words under his breath. I sit up slowly, trying to find my balance. “Here,” I offer. He looks up from the messy knot he made, walking back over. Standing in front of me he places his hands on my waist.

Resting his chin on top of my head, “thanks sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmur. Finish tying up his robe, “is it too tight?” I ask, looking up slightly. He shakes his head, cupping the back of mine.

“No it’s good,” he runs his fingers through my hair softly. I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he spoke. His other hand trail down my back to my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Before he removes his hand off my ass, scribbling something down on a sticky note. He pulls back to look into my eyes, keeping his hand in my hair. Brushing it softly, his eyes were blue… Weren’t they supposed to be yellow? “What is it?” He asks curiously, I must not of being doing a good job at hiding my confusion.

“Your eyes…” I mutter, before mine drift to something I had yet to notice.

“Oh yes the yellow can be… unnerving.” He whispers the last part, almost as if he was ashamed.

I shake my head, “no that’s not what I meant…” I paused, and he seemed to perk up slightly at my response. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing when I see my name on a board behind him. A board of the… rebellion. Oh shit this is bad. “Little Minx?” I raise a brow, he immediately broke out into a grin. Looking behind him, to see the board I was staring at.

“Long story…” He turns back to face me, cupping my jaw gently. “My private chambers are just down the hall if you need anything,” he slides the sticky note to me. With the code to his chambers on it, “if anyone gives you any trouble just tell them I sent you.”

He leans closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. Longer for a moment, breathing me in. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, make yourself comfortable.” He pulls away slowly, as if he was reluctant to. He releases his gentle grip on my jaw, to smooth down my hair. Before giving my ass a gentle pat, before heading to the door of his office. Using the force to open the door, show off. “I’ll be in conference room B if you need me darling. Try not to miss me too much,” he winks.

Heading out the door, shutting it behind him. I let out a sigh, “holy shit.” I mumble under my breath, rubbing my face to try to gather myself. I grip the edge of the desk I was currently on… naked. This was so not part of the plan. The plan! The files, I look around. Standing up on shaky legs, my knees buckling for a moment.

To be continued…

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai + @diariodefresa

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Reader-Fragments of Us

A/N: I had a dream about this specific plot the other day. I sincerly hope no one has done this before.

prompt: Natasha leaves Reader before going on an undercover mission. Reader is absolutely devasted but Wanda being her long term friend is right there to lean on her shoulder and dry her tears. What happens when they both begin to catch feelings just before Natasha returns?

tw/tags: female reader, established relationship, Natasha being a meanie, mention of breakup, mention of depression, mention of troubled eating, slightly smutty (making out only)

word count: 5.7k

translation: detka= baby

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

It had been quite obvious really and as you stand there, watching her walk away you should have known. She had been distant lately, withdrawing from you more. Natasha was your everything. She always had been, ever since joining the avengers and meeting the redhead. Despite it taking a while to get used to each other, there had always been something between you two. And despite neither of you being able to see it at first, the other members of the team had quickly figured it out, often teasing you both about the obvious attraction towards each other.

Ever since that one mission that had changed everything, the two of you had been inevitably closer. Quiet nights would be spent together, chaotic nights in the midst of the chaos of missions. Mornings would be spent waking up beside each other. Her hand seemed to have fit into yours perfectly, her being the missing piece in your life and heart, somehow making you complete. And you knew Natasha would retreat to the silence of her own thoughts at times, when memories and dreams of the red room haunted her, when a mission wasn't going well or when one of the guys had been annoying her. But you learnt to give her time, blow off some steam in the gym or giving her a while to calm down on her own, before being ready to open her in your arms again.

However, lately it had been different, she had been absent at night, not sharing your usual room and bed together. She had actively avoided going on missions with you, sharing meals and basically time with you. Often you had tried to talk to her, eventually growing both frustrated and self concious, wondering what you had done wrong, what you may have done to upset her and if maybe she had grown bored, maybe she found someone or something better or you simply weren't good enough for her. You had always been an overthinker and so you tried your hardest to shush those thoughts, to reassure yourself that Natasha loved you, just like the many times she had told and shown you.

,,Y/N'' she began and you could already tell by her voice, soft yet firm that something was going on. ,,I need to talk to you about something'' she explained further, causing for your hands and knees to begin shaking.

,,I'm sorry Y/N but I can't do this anymore'' she told you, her voice betraying her a little bit as her eyes averted yours. ,,What- What do you mean?'' you asked a little dumbfounded as your world began crumbling underneath you. ,,I'm leaving on a mission, I can't have any distractions'' she said, almost cold and harshly, feeling much more like the Black Widow rather than your girlfriend.

,,But Nat, I love you, how could I be a distraction?'' you ask confused, the tears already swelling in your eyes. ,,I have to leave, I can't risk anything happening to you'' she said, swallowing hard, her expression pained.

,,Nat please, we can do this together'' you pleaded ,,We always have'' you try in one last desperate attempt to not have her leave you like this.

,,Not this time detka, I'm sorry, I have to do this alone'' she explained. You stood there stunned, watching her leave, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

After she walks out, you simply sink to your knees, shaking and crying, gripping at your hair, picking at your skin in a hopeless attempt to make you wake up, thinking if you try hard enough it may have only been one of your nightmares. The realisation that it wasn't hits you quickly, the hours passing, the room and world around you growing dark, Natasha already long gone on her mission, she was supposed to leave tomorrow but she couldn't stand the sight of you or being in your presence, knowing if she so much as stayed at the avengers compound, she would have changed her mind in an instant, the whole encounter causing for her heart to break, seeing yours crumble right in front of her and knowing neither you or herself would ever be able to forgive her.

It's past midnight when you eventually make it back on your feet, feeling the walls of your shared bedroom quite literally closing in on you. Her scent lingered everywhere, the photos of you both reminding you painfully of what happened. You missed her terribly already, unaware she was already long gone. And you couldn't possibly stay there for another second. Unsure where to go or who to turn to, you simply walk almost aimlessly towards the elevator, pressing the button to the rooftop before finding your safe space. It had always been your place of hiding away, especially when first joining the avengers and needing some quiet time to rewind that this was truly your life and that you would truly be fighting alongside the people you had seen on TV and read about in the newspapers.

As the cold air hits your soaked skin from crying, you feel a little at ease, the ability to breathe suddenly back and a lot easier. You sit by the edge, the way you always would, your feet dangling in the air before staring into the darkness, the fields and compound grounds. You didn't notice, the door opening or footsteps approaching you, neither the calling of your name, having been so lost in your thoughts about Natasha.

,,Y/N?'' Wanda's voice rings through the air again and this time your head snaps into her direction. She instantly frowns, having heard what happened from some of the others as gossip spread fairly quickly and Natasha's early leaving and her comment before doing so, quickly making the rounds. Once Wanda found out, her first instict was to come and find you, considering the two had been close friends for several months and years now.

,,Hi Wands'' you try your best to force a smile but her frown only intensivies by the shaking in your voice and the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks once more. ,,I'm so sorry darling'' she speaks, before climbing next to you, quickly taking your sobbing, shaking form into her steady arms.

,,I don't understand what happened or what I did'' you mumble, more to yourself than her really. And Wanda being Wanda, she knew this would take more than just some time to heal, also knowing there was no point in talking about it tonight as she knew you needed comfort more than anything right now. And so she simply lets you rest your head on her shoulder, her arm still protectively around you, as you both stare into the distance, the tears continuing to pour. And it felt good being in her embrace despite it all, Wanda often drying your tears in the past if a mission went south, the one time Natasha got hurt and landed in med bay and the rare arguments in your relationship. In return you had always been there for Wanda, the days when she missed her brother a little more than usual, the times when one of the guys would piss her off, you and Natasha instantly by her side and protecting her.

The next morning you wake up in your bed, at first forgetting about the events from before, instinctively reaching out for your girlfriend before the empty side reminds you of what had happened. And all you can do is simply turn back around, trying to fight back the tears and find some sleep again. You assumed that Wanda had put you to bed, as you didn't remember much from the night prior other than crying into her shoulders. And you for sure couldn't stand the thought of possibly facing Natasha for her leaving today, unaware that she had already long been gone on her undercover mission.

The hours slowly turn into days as you practically rot in your bed, refusing to leave other than getting water intake in order to not faint from exhaustion and fatigue and going to the toilet. The others had noticed of course, your lack of showing up for breakfast, dinner, your absence in the gym, the common room and missing some of the group activities like pizza night. And they had worried about you, especially after you failed to show up for both your favorite pizza and game night. Wanda had regularly checked on you throughout the days, mostly finding you asleep in bed, surrounded by a mountain of tissues. She tried to get you to join the others, to eat and to slowly get back out there but she also knew the depths of pain of losing someone close to you and she wasn't going to force you out of it just yet.

It took another two weeks for you to finally leave bed again, as your presence was needed for a mission. In reality they didn't urgently need you and could have easily given you some more time to grieve this but they had decided that maybe getting you back out there would be helpful. And so, Wanda had managed to get you out of bed, making your hair for you and practically forcing you in the shower and to get changed into your gear. You assured her you ate but she knew you had been lying to her about that and so as the quinjet hums through the sky, she forces you to have some water and an energy bar to get at least something into your thin body. You had lost weight and they could tell, your tired features and the exhaustion written across your features.

In reality you had been unable to sleep in the night, dreams of Natasha and her leaving you over and over again haunting you, keeping you from any sleep. In the days you managed to get hours at a time before they would occur again and cause you to simply stare at the ceiling, sometimes scrolling through your phone before your lockscreen of the two of you sent you into another spiral. None of them knew the depths of your pain and struggling and what a mistake it ended up being bringing you on this mission. It should have been easy enough really, entering the enemy base while Tony and Bucky tried infiltrating the enemy base and hack into their computers, Wanda, Steve and you had the task of getting more information from the labs.

Despite feeling like the life had been sucked out of you, you ended up enjoying being back doing what you love. You are the one to take out most of the enemies with ease, practically running into battle, ready for confrontration. And Wanda of course noticed, taking a mental note to bring this up with you later. But she never got the chance, as you took them out with ease, punching them a little harder than you usually would, turning your knuckles bloody, taking more beating than you usually would without retailiating as it gave you the feeling you deserved each punch. If it wasn't for Steve's shield, the bullet that was meant for Wanda would have hit you with ease as you practically jumped in front of her, ready to shield her with your life.

After the succesfull mission, Wanda watched as you almost without a care in the world walked back to the quinjet, despite your face bleeding, your hands and knuckles dripping with blood and your face having grown considerably pale. She knew you to be stubborn and she knew about the pain of losing Natasha and what that must feel like, however she didn't approve of your actions, the recklessness towards yourself. And she for sure wasn't going to just sit back and let it happen any longer or let this go any further. Determined she took your hands into her own after you fell into one of the seats, cleaning them before wrapping them up in bandages. Despite your pleas for her to stop and repeating that you are fine, she is having none of it, making sure that your wounds are fine at least until she can get you to med bay.

,,Drink up'' she instructs, passing you a bottle of water. Despite your disapproval, you end up taking the bottle in your hands, as the others watch you with concern. Steve is the first to take a seat beside you, looking at you in a way that spoke lengths. ,,That was pretty risky kiddo'' he speaks and you can't help but scoff, not in the mood for his antics and hope speeches right now. ,,What.. want a thank you?'' you hiss, startling him a little in the process. ,,I- we want you to look after yourself'' he confirms, before letting you be, assuming you wanted some quiet and this wasn't a good time.

As soon as Wanda returns, her shoulder seems to magically attract your head like a magnet as you lean on her, the exhaustion now rippling through you, the lack of sleep, the fighting and beating you took today mixed with the lack of food. Your eyelids quickly feel heavy and close and Wanda can't help but sigh a little relieved, having overheard the exchange with Steve and knowing you would never usually talk to either of them like that. And truth to be told, Wanda was a little lost as well, having considered to reach out to Natasha before realizing with the current undercover mission of the russian it would be impossible. However, she hated seeing you like this, not wanting to get involved too much as she would never judge Natasha's reasoning, especially not having the full picture but she cared about you deeply, the last thing she wants to see being you struggling this much.

The first thing as soon as you landed, was Wanda forcing you into med bay where your injuries are checked and treated. After getting some pain meds and the reassurance that you aren‘t severly injured, they let you go again, urging Wanda however to make sure you eat and stay hydrated as they had noticed the malnourishment and low blood pressure. Wanda frowned before taking your arm and taking you into her room. At this point she was fed up and you were tired and so you complied when she forced some pain killers into your hand and passing you water. She disappeared for a while before returning with some food, forcing you to eat something like the doctors had instructed. When she got you to eventually shower and change she feels relief, having at least done the minumum for today.

„Do you want to talk?“ she asks gently as she takes another look at your tired features, sitting beside you on the edge of her bed.

„I‘m just tired“ you mumble, genuinely feeling exhausted and tired from the mission.

„Why don‘t we get you some sleep?“ she offers and you yawn before nodding and despite the small delay due to your hesitation, you balance on your tired legs.

„What are you doing?“ Wanda asks confused, her green eyes searching yours. „Going to bed?“ you ask confused, your eyebrows furrowing as another yawn ripples through you.

„None of that, here lie down“ she instructs before moving the blanket and patting the space next to hers. You stare at her in confusion, too tired to argue but confused either way.

„I know you haven‘t been able to sleep at night honey, maybe sleeping here will help“ she offers and despite your first thought being Natasha you quickly brush it off before laying down as the exhaustion seems to drag you under with each passing moment.

When you wake up the next morning, you blink repeatedly in confusion as you realise you had actually slept through the night. And you aren't sure whether it was the mission from the day before, the pain medication or Wanda's presence that managed to shield you from your usual nightmares and partial insomnia. As you turn your head a little, you realise that Wanda's arm is wrapped around you, her head turned towards you, her hair falling softly over her pillow and the smallest noises escaping her lips. And for a moment your heart skips a beat, seeing her so adorable but at the same time you knew that it may just be your heart breaking all over again as Natasha had always held you that way and you would often stare at her that way, observing each one of her beautiful features as you woke and she was still asleep beside you.

,,Good morning honey'' she smiles, watching you stare and blink repeatedly right through her. ,,Hi Wands'' you mumble, quickly focusing and catching her eyes for a split second before instinctively moving back a little. ,,Oh sorry'' she apologises before retreating her arm from holding you and for a second you almost whimper at the loss. ,,Sleep well?'' she asks carefully, having been awake most of the night to make sure she could be there for you if you woke and only falling asleep about two hours ago herself.

,,I did thank you'' you mumble, now feeling a little shy. ,,What?'' she chuckles, her lips curling into a smile seeing you so sleepy, adorable and lost in thoughts. ,,You're beautiful'' is what you wanted to say but you hold back, knowing you shouldn't, knowing you couldn't. ,,Nothing'' you quickly compose yourself before she begins moving the blanket and stretching a little, her bones cracking ever so slightly with each movement.

,,How about some breakfast?'' she offers and you could tell by her tone that it wasn't truly a question and that she would force it upon you either way. And so you comply, getting dressed and actually joining the others in the kitchen. And they couldn't hide their excitement, having missed you, each of them greeting you in their own way but backing off a little as they also know you still needed some space.

That night seems to have changed things, as you started living again day by day. Of course you missed her with your whole being, your thoughts often wandering to her and whether she was alright but at the same time you had been distracted. You actively joined missions again, blowing off some steam but Wanda making sure you are not overdoing it and taking care of yourself. Bucky taking you to the gym again, Tony getting you to help out on projects to distract yourself. And after a couple of weeks you even moved back to your old room. It hurt like hell, packing your belongings into a bag and going back to the old corridor you used to sleep in. But it was unknown when Natasha would return and you for sure didn't want to be in her way and so you made sure to change the bedding, do some washing and cleaning up, before closing the door.

That seems to have put you right back into the hole however, your old room feels empty, despite Wanda trying her best to decorate it with you and make it comfortable. But you couldn't feel comfortable, often feeling cold and empty at nights, as Natasha would usually hold you in her arms and make you warm again. And so you spent most nights on the rooftop again, at least being able to watch the sunrise that way and not plagued by nightmares. In the days you would nap beside Wanda in her room when she was doing some work or in the common room, liking to have company and hearing background noises instead of the silence of your lonely, quiet room.

More weeks passed, and the emptiness left by Natasha's absence seems unbearable. You threw yourself into work further, trying to keep busy but the loneliness was a constant companion. It would have killed you for sure if it wasn't for Wanda. At first, it continued with the small gestures, bringing you coffee or smoothies during your workouts, sitting with you during meals and encouraging you to eat, checking in to see how you were doing. But as the weeks carried on in their monotonous path, her presence became more comforting. She often found you on the rooftop at nights, sitting silently beside you, watching movies with you and either the two of you crying over ice cream together or laughing your heads off at one of the shows she chose.

Tonight, the two of you sit in the common room, the silence between you both is comfortable. Wanda looks at you, her eyes filled with understanding and reassurance.

,,Y/N, I know it's been hard'' she says softly. ,,But you don't have to do it alone, you don't ever have to do it alone''

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. ,,I just.. I miss her so much Wanda. And I don't understand why she left me''.

Wanda reaches out, taking your hand into hers. ,,Natasha loves you. I'm sure of it. I don't know her reasons but right now, we just continue to look after and take of you.''

You look into her green eyes, seeing the honesty in them, the familiar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. ,,Thanks Wands, you've been amazing'' you thank her, earning you a genuine smile.

,,That's what friends are for darling'' she reassures, squeezing your hand again to make her statement more believable.

More weeks passed and you and Wanda quickly became inseparable, your bond deepening with each passing day. What had always been a friendship, slowly blossomed into something more. It started with the stolen glances during dinner or game night, lingering touches on the rooftop or watching a movie together, moments of quiet intimacy when you couldn't sleep for days on end and you'd sleep with her, finding yourself wrapped in her arms the next morning, the intimacy making your heart race. You know you are falling for her, but it terrifies you, knowing that one day Natasha will be back and also still feeling utterly in love with her and missing her more with each day passing. Wanda didn't want to admit it to herself either, always having enjoyed both yours and Natasha's presence but respecting your relationship. But over these weeks she couldn't deny that she enjoyed your presence, enjoyed looking after you and taking care of you, enjoyed finding you in her arms. But she also knew it was far more complicated than that, knowing she couldn't be your rebound and Natasha's return despite it being unknown when, would make this impossible.

And so the two of you tried to cope with the feelings in your own way, you retreating to yourself a little, still spending time with Wanda but deciding to sleep in your own room again, despite that meaning little to no sleep. Wanda tried to give you space, knowing this was wrong but still checking up on you to make sure you wouldn‘t get lost in the chaos and waves of pain again. It‘s not until Tony‘s birthday party when things seem to change between you two further. Wanda looked stunning in her red dress tonight and you had a hard time keeping your eyes away from her. She equally struggled, watching you in your black suit, your chest slightly exposed. The two of you ended up laughing carelessly, dancing on the dancefloor together before finding a more quiet area on one of the balcony‘s.

The two of you had enough to drink to be giggling messes but not enough to completely lose track of things. The music plays softly in the background, most people having left by now and only couples slow dancing to songs now. Wanda reaches for your glass, passing it to you before you both take another sip, staring into the night sky filled with stars. Her green eyes seem to magically draw yours towards her as your eyes lock. When the familiar feeling settles in your stomach, you have a hard time averting her gaze, your cheeks glowing red ever so slightly. „Wanda I-„ you begin, unsure what you actually want to say as the words seem to spill from your mouth carelessly.

„Shh I know“ she whispers, her eyes never leaving yours. And there is a silent understanding between the two of you then. You both knew what was on each other‘s mind, your hearts beating loudly in synch against your chests. Your eyes sparkling with love and adoration for each other, moving back between your eyes and lips. Time seems to freeze, the background noises fading completely as you both simply stare and get lost in each other. Surprisingly it‘s Wanda who moves forward a little, brushing a strand hair behind your ear, her touch cold but making you feel warm nevertheless.

„You‘re beautiful you know“ she smiles as she examines you further. And maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the fact that she didn‘t care right now or that her rational side gave in but she wanted you and as of tonight, she couldn‘t keep it in any longer. „You‘re the beautiful one Wands“ you chuckle, getting lost in her green eyes all over again. As her head moves closer, you feel the butterflies errupting in your stomach but she halts, realising what she is doing and having too much respect for you to hurt you further. "Kiss me" you whisper, closing your eyes and waiting for what you had been thinking about for weeks.

"Y/N I-" she tries but you open your eyes to reassure her. "But darling what about-" she begins but is cut off when your lips land on her own. Her eyebrows raise in surprise, her eyes quickly closing as she leans into you, tasting your lips for the first time. Wanda isn't the only one surprised, as when the two of you pull away in search for oxygen, the realisation seems to ripple through you, leaving you both confused and your heart beating out of your chest. "I liked that" Wanda admits, chuckling to herself a little before her eyes inspect you, knowing and being able to read you so well by now.

When she sees the initial confusion being replaced by lust in your eyes, the way your eyes travel from her lips to her clevage, she can't keep it in herself for a secong longer. With a swift motion, she pulls you forward by the collar of your suit jacket, leaving you a whimpering mess as her hungry lips explore yours again. Her tongue begs for entrance and you grant it quickly, exploring her and feeling the heat between your legs rising. The two of you end up making out heavily, you eventually sitting on Wanda's lap, grinding down on her thigh in search for some relief. The redhead explores ever inch of your body, trailing kisses down your neck and exposed chest while guiding your hand towards her chest, letting you get some relief by squeezing her boobs and hard buds.

„I want you“ you whisper into her ear breathlessly as she chuckles lowly, still working her way down your neck and back. „Wanda please“ you whine and she can‘t help but chuckle again at your neediness. „Let me take you home detka“ she whispers, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss again before you suddenly freeze. The name was enough to send you into a spiral as Natasha had always called it you and it suddenly seems to make you realize what you are actually doing. You couldn‘t shake the feeling you are somehow cheating on her, hurting her despite her having broken up with you months ago. Wanda notices of course, confused at first before she realizes. „Y/N I‘m so sorry“ she apologises, quickly cupping your cheeks in her hands.

„No - I- I‘m sorry“ you apologize, feeling bad for ruining things. „It‘s okay darling“ she reassures as she wipes the few tears that stream down your cheeks. „Let me take you home okay?“ she offers gently and when you nod in agreement, she is quick to offer her assistance and get you dressed again. On the way back to the compound you ended up falling asleep on her shoulder, the way you usually would and she is quick to carry you into her room and sit you on her bed. While she gets some water and pain medication just incase of a hangover in the morning, you wake and sleepily constent to her helping you get changed. Her touch is gently as she removes your clothing, putting you in some of her pyjamas before tugging you in beside her. And if you hadn’t dozed off straight after, you would have noticed the way she was so gentle, never prying, simply looking at you full of love and adoration.

The following day, the news of Natasha‘s return later today buzzed through the compound, leaving the others excited and you mortified. You had no strength left to face her feeling both guilt, hurt and utter love for the redhead. Anxiety filled you and despite Wanda being able to tell and offer to be by your side, you hid away in the comfort of the gym, punching almost aimlessly and breathlessly at one of the punching bags, not bothering about gloves as you wanted to feel each punch.

When Natasha finally walks through the doors, she is quickly greeted by everyone, Tony asking about the mission and congrulating her for the success, Clint wrapping her in a big hug. She looks both tired and relieved to be back and her eyes seem to instantly wander around the room, trying to find you. „Where‘s Y/N?“ she asks the others and their eyes simply drop to the floor, of course having noticed the growing tension between you and Wanda before one of them tells her having seen you in the gym.

She is quick to abandon her things and make her way over, as she steps inside she finds you punching into one of the punching bags, out of breath and loud music drawing out from your headphones. „Y/N“ she tries but you can‘t hear her. When you finally notice a presence you pray to god it’s Wanda or one of the others but you find the redhead standing there, her features filled with guilt and relief. Your heart breaks all over again and you quickly abandon your headphones and step away from the punching bag. You stand there unable to move for a moment as you try and catch your breath.

„How was the mission then?“ you ask, almost coldly and her features tense, never having heard you like that before.

„Long but succesful“ she sighs, running her hands through her hair.

There is a long stretch of silence as her eyes plead for forgiveness, the longing very visible in her orbs and the impatience of wanting to hold you again.

„Detka I‘m so sorry“ she bursts out, taking a step towards you and you insticticely take a step backwards.

„I never wanted to leave you but it was far too dangerous and I needed to make sure-„ she begins but you cut her off. „That you don‘t have any distractions, I know“ you repeat bitterly, remembering her every word when she left.

„Every moment away from you was agony, I couldn‘t think about anything else than you. I shouldn‘t have pushed you away like that, I‘m so sorry love, please I love you“ she begs, tears lingering in her eyes.

Each of her words cuts you like a sharp knife, the guilt of the last few months making you stumble backwards. Of course she did it to keep you safe, of course she had those reasons and of course you betrayed her with Wanda. Tears linger in your eyes as your breathing is basically knocked from your lungs, your face growing pale as everything overwhelms you.

Natasha knew you too long and well to know that there was something going on and she assumes it has to do with the glances from the others before, the pity, the judgement. She only managed to connect the dots when Wanda aimlessly walks into the gym, not having noticed the redhead. „Hi darling, I brought you a smoothie, you should really take a break-„ she begins but stops herself as soon as she steps inside finding Natasha and a very pale you.

„You‘re back, sorry I didn‘t know you are in here“ Wanda quickly apologises, Natasha simply nodding before connecting the dots. Her eyes widen in realisation a little bit as both jealousy and hurt crosses her face. She should have known really that it wouldn‘t take long for someone to fall for you considering how beautiful you are, considering how kind you are. She should have known leaving you like that was an awful idea but then again she never expected you to find someone this quick, especially Wanda of all people. Both you and Wanda seem to be able to read the redhead well as her features turn serious and you assume her to simply storm off and leave but it surprises you when she stays composed and calm.

„So when did that happen then?“ she asks, not in a judgemental way but a serious one.

„While you were gone and left, Wanda was there for me. She helped me through it all and lately we.. we became closer“ you admit, knowing you owe her honesty at least.

She takes a step back, almost as to give you both space, her expression both hurt and confused. But to your surprise Wanda steps forward. „I‘m sorry Natasha, I never meant for this to happen like this“ she apologises and having known Wanda and her history, Natasha knows she is telling the truth.

Natasha looks between you two, her emotions bubbling inside her. „I never meant to lose you Y/N.. I love you but I can‘t deny what you feel“ she whispers before glancing at the two of you one more time and leaving. And despite it all it feels like her leaving over and over again, your knees feeling weak as the exhaustion from this encounter, the workout before and the lack of food and water drags you down.

[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

love marks & battle scars

[rival! enemy! ken sato x baseball teammate! undercover KDF agent! reader]

part 2

part 1 | part 3

pairing: ken sato x reader

cw: rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, eventual ANGST, cursing, hardcore!intimidating!reader, matsui’s daughter!reader, cursing, minimal details are modified to fit into the storyline, girldad!kenji, reader becomes emi’s mother figure, goofy ahhhh writing as usual

ken sato, your egotistical new teammate has been ticking you off and thinning your patience, being a threat to your place in yomiuri giants. 

ultraman, your nemesis who always gets in the way of your job in the kdf, that you only joined in hopes of finding leads and getting clues to track your parents.

and somehow you even ended up being a co-parenting his… kaiju daughter. something you never signed up for.

Ken, as Ultraman, found himself at the scene where Gigantron was, earning a few back pains from being thrown here and there like a ragdoll. Just in the middle of catching his breath, a jet flew in front of his face.

“Ultraman, surrender. Leave this to the KDF and for the nth time, stop intervening.” 

He knows that voice. Your voice. Even if you have a voice changer, he recognizes that monotonous voice from the last time he heard it in a similar scenario last night with Neronga.

“Ugh, you again? Can you lay off me?” his attention went to you.

“Not until you lay off our mission.” you replied, looking down at him under your helmet and the jet window.

After rushing to the KDF headquarters, you managed to put your gear inside and catch up with the last jet in the air force. You pulled a pilot away from the cockpit just as he was about to get on and you got on instead. Before the pilot could grumble, you flew the jet up toward the direction of the other jets but stopping by where Ultraman got thrown first. 

“Saturnine, right? Can you please, please fly a little further? Almost as if you want to kiss my face.”

“I don’t kiss bad lips. Dream on, Ultrafail.” 

He remembers you from Neronga’s attack last night. How could he not? You kept rambling violent verbal threats to him and you even almost “unintentionally” blasted him with a missile. Moreover, you wore a different uniform. He doesn’t know what you look like, because your face would always be covered, and your voice changer alters your voice along with radio distortion.

While bantering, you were distracted when Gigantron let out a loud roar before it flew away with the package. Your eyes went back to Ultraman.

“Stay out of KDF's business.” 

You followed with your jet, and so did Ultraman. You were now in front of the jets’ formation, and Ultraman’s following not that far behind. He really doesn't listen.

“If Ultraman interferes, you are authorized to use deadly force.” You heard Dr. Onda say on the radio. You ignored it and focused on catching up to Gigantron. Ultraman’s the least of your worries.

Ultraman accelerates and tries to converse with Gigantron to no avail. You can’t hear what he was saying, but you think he’s trying to convince the Kaiju to hand him the package. Ultraman’s putting himself between the KDF and Gigantron.

That little…

Now it’s time for your backup plan. Just as Dr. Onda commanded to fire the missiles, you also accelerated the speed to reach Gigantron. Ultraman thought you were about to try and wave him off again, but you had other plans. 

“What the f–” Until the pilot caught a glimpse of you through the window when you flew ahead. “Sir, Agent Saturnine appeared on the site!” 

“What?!” Dr. Onda grits his teeth, pushing one of the Computer Agents to see through the monitor cameras. “Hold fire!”

“Missiles have already fired, sir! She’s trying to turn the jet around to get in Gigantron’s way and fire from its front!”

When the KDF’s missiles almost reached Gigantron, Ultraman blocked them with his force shield. Now’s your chance.

You failed to consider a spot, Ultraman. 

Ultraman looks back and immediately recognizes you. What the hell are you– 

No.

Ken’s eyes widened from behind the mask when he realized what you were about to do but it was too late. You fired multiple missiles at the other side directly at Gigantron where Ultraman’s force shield doesn’t cover. Then came a big explosion as you hear Gigantron's loud, desperate roar and the sound of its fall from the height like an asteroid. The impact of the explosion from the other’s jets’ missiles and yours repelled your jets away miles from the explosion. Gigantron hitting the ocean surface also made a big wave upon landing.

Then the environment suddenly turned quiet. When the smoke dissipated, you tried to look down and search for the Gigantron’s whereabouts but you could not see clearly from the height. You have to retrieve that package. Even Ultraman was nowhere to be found anymore. Is he dead? In your defense, you didn’t plan to hit him with the missiles too, he was in the way, it’s his fault for meddling.

You need to find Gigantron now and complete the mission. KDF’s drones and Dr. Onda himself searched with you. Later on, after a while, you finally found Gigantron’s unresponsive body but no package to be found. Until you looked beside Gigantron and what you saw gave what it was away.

Fragments of shells.

You looked back at Gigantron’s unmoving body. You weren’t sure if it’s dead or just unconscious. But one thing’s for sure. Aoshima’s going to kill you.

And you failed your mission.

Ultrafuckingman.

—

With a sour mood, you woke up once again the following day. At your house, you sat at the tabletop chair and mindlessly poured coffee to an old, chipped rim cup. 

“No work in the morning?”

When you heard the male voice behind you, you accidentally poured your coffee into your hand and when you flinched it spilled all over everywhere from the kettle. You silently muttered a sharp ouch as you tried to soothe the scalded spot. 

The man behind you is none other than your father, the one and only baseball champion, Hideki Matsui. Skyrocketing expectations, only expecting the best from his only daughter who took the same line of work as him. As a retired athlete, he wanders around, occasionally attending interviews and reunions from his old Giants teammates. 

You sighed before you replied without turning behind to meet his eyes. 

“I got suspended.”

—

After the stunt you pulled to eliminate Gigantron, and when Dr. Onda announced that the Kaiju egg hatched, Aoshima had a word with you and suspended you for three days.

“Aoshima, if you'd just let me talk to Dr. Onda alone–”

Aoshima faced you. “Dr. Onda does not chat with his personnel. Whatever you have to say, say it in front of me, and I'll relay, Agent Saturnine.”

“I can’t. It’s a private matter. Besides, it wasn’t my fault why the mission failed. I did what I could.”

“You were there even if you’re off-duty.” Aoshima’s brows furrowed, pointing outside.

“You didn’t say I shouldn’t meddle when I’m off-duty. Clearly it was your fault for giving unclear instructions.”

Aoshima sucked air through his nose. “I’m still a rank above you. So as your Captain, do as I say. Go home and rest.” and then he walked away from you and went in the door to Dr. Onda’s office.

—

Your dad, Matsui scoffs at your revelation. “Suspended? Just what trouble did you cause in your discreet workplace? Well, you'll live with it, it’ll help you focus more on baseball. You have a whole season ahead of you.”

You winced in annoyance. “Dad–” 

“You didn’t start the game last night. Why is that? You’re always first in sequence as the right fielder.”

You gripped your coffee cup. You don’t know how to answer. He would surely have a negative reaction, but you wanted to tell him the truth about Sato.

Speaking of Sato, you researched about him last night. Kenji Sato, number 7, LA Dodgers. His stats were decent. He might be one of the best players in the Dodgers, but he's nowhere like that here. At the end of the day, stats don't matter. You want to see him in his full potential to believe in his skills. He's built quite a fanbase here in Tokyo, too. Not surprising, he was born here in Japan, anyway.

You turned your head to him. “Shimura decided it’d be great if Sato was first in the court. He’s the best player of the Dodgers back in LA.”

“I know that. He’s a threat. Don't let him be better than you. I saw him, he bats ineptly, you already have an advantage. But even if he’s not a threat to your title, he’d be a threat to the points of the team. And when there is a threat. We eliminate it.”

You want to tell him to give Sato the benefit of the doubt because it’s his first time in the team, but you chose to keep your mouth shut.

“Right.” you turned your head back to your coffee and started fidgeting with the coaster underneath.

“Make sure you maintain your place in that team. Don’t take a place less than being Captain. And do something about that Sato.” you heard him say before he went outside through the main door, not saying a word more. he didn’t even tell you where he’s going, or what time he’ll be home. 

You exhaled all the tension out and bowed your head. “Maintain your place in that team.”, yet no “You’ve worked hard enough for your place in that team.”

This is your life, you have to suck it up.

You looked at the picture frame at the side of the tabletop near the fruit basket. You picked it up and looked at your family picture. You caressed your mom’s cheek with your finger. If only… If only she were still here, maybe your dad wouldn’t be this hard on you and things would be a lot better because you don’t have to risk your life working in the KDF. 

You’d do anything to be with her again.

Arriving at the Tokyo Dome, you immediately went back to the locker rooms, avoiding your teammates and the interviewers trailing you everywhere. Where are the security guards? When you got in the locker room, they were still following you so you struggled to close the door. The pushy ones were trying to get your attention and pushing the door open. When you locked it you got pushed back upon the impact and lost your balance, resulting in you falling on your behind. You shook your head and caressed your back.

—

“Persistent, aren’t they?” you were shocked when someone offered their hand to help you up. You didn’t even notice some of your teammates were there with you inside.

Ken smiled down at you, with his hand still hanging in the air offering to help you get up. But you didn’t even gesture to reject him, you just scowled at his hand, got up by yourself, and left him hanging.

“Not into accepting help from others. Got it.” Ken withdrew his hand, and muttered to himself. He heard the other teammates’ snickers at the corner. He guesses this is what he gets for being Mr. Helpful.

One of the teammates put an arm over Ken’s shoulder and followed you with his eyes. “Hard shell to crack, isn’t she? That’s how she was always like.”

“Yeah. God knows how long we’ve been teammates, yet she always keeps herself at a distance. No one knows why.” another teammate whispers to him, careful not to be heard by you.

Ken panned in your direction, you were organizing your locker, completely uncaring about your environment. He pursed his lips before removing his teammates’ arms from his shoulder and walking back toward his own locker.

The game started not long after warm-ups. You were first in sequence. He finally saw you play and he must say, you really proved yourself worthy of your title. You were aggressive yet still seemingly holding yourself in restraint. When it was his turn to be in the court, you followed him with your eyes as he walked in. You thought he was about to redeem himself for the disappointment he was last night, but he was even more disappointing tonight. Last night it was just banter, tonight, he picked a fist-fight with the catcher from the other team. 

What the hell is he doing this time?

The fight was bad. You can’t even look at their direction or the jumbotron while the referee was holding them from each other. Shimura was humiliated. He yelled to call him off the game and told him to get a time-out. 

“The second time you do this, Sato, you’ll be kicked out by the management!” Shimura yelled at his face.

You caught a glimpse of Sato’s fuming mad face when he passed in front of you with a lowered head when he went to the exit to the back of the arena, possibly to the locker room.

You paid him no mind and instead focused on the last game. When the game finished, you didn’t bother to know anymore if your team was fined for Sato’s behavior. You were about to go back to the locker room to get your things after the game but a teammate called your last name to get your attention and told you to wait up.

When you faced him, he was holding his own ice pack to cool his neck. “You’re going to the lockers, right? Can you give Sato an ice pack to help with his face?”

“Who are you to tell me what to do? He did that to himself.” you looked at his ice pack. “Why don’t you do it yourself?” 

“Coach Shimura told us personally to tell you to deliver one to him because you’re the only one Sato doesn’t sneer at.” 

You side-eye Shimura to confirm, who has his eyes on you too to see if you’d comply. You take your own unused gel ice pack from the bench, put it in your pocket and turn your back to make your way to the locker room.

When you opened the door, you saw Ken’s topless figure sitting still on the bench in front of his open locker. You two were the only ones inside the dim locker room. He didn’t turn to the door to see who came in when the door made a sound. He can feel someone’s presence behind him, but he doesn’t know it's you. 

He felt you walking behind him, he thought it was just another teammate getting his things so he didn’t pay you any mind and just minded his own business.

You went to your own locker first at the opposite side of his. You opened your locker first to get your things before you towered behind him with your hands inside your pockets. His naked back was in full display, he was holding one side of his head in pain, and his eyes were shut. You fished the ice pack from your pocket and dropped it on the bench just beside where he was seated before you turned away.

The soft thud of the ice pack landing on the bench beside Ken shook his eyes open. His eyes first landed on your back that he immediately recognized, before it landed on the ice pack that had your name on it. 

Your steps toward the door halted when you heard his voice.

“Thanks.” Ken spoke from behind you.

He waited for you to say something, but you didn’t say anything. Except, you continued to proceed to the door.

When you opened the door, you stopped midway. Your head turned slightly to the right, to his direction.

"Stop being a burden to us. If you have any respect for this team at least, because you clearly don't have any respect towards any of your teammates, you'll either get your shit together or resign." 

And then you went forward until you were fully outside the door and left him hanging for the second time, again.

***

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[dolicekiss]

Hey,

I love your writings.❤️Keep it up!

Could you please write a Gellert Grindelwald (Mads Mikkelsen) one-shot, where the reader is Newt‘s sister and an auror at Macusa. He has plotted for years to finally get her and while on an undercover mission, his followers kidnap her. She soon realizes how obsessed he is and try‘s to use those feelings against him. Her plan is to give in on his affection to earn his trust, but it goes further than she thought?(with smut,where he tries to babytrap her?)

♡: thank you so much also this is my first time writin about gellert grindelwald, i hope u like it

A beautiful butterfly

PAIRING: Gellert Grindelwald (mads mikkelsen) x auror!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), kidnapping, power imbalance, obsessed gellert, young reader (age unspecified, gellert is 46), unprotected sex, body worshipping, teasing, baby trapping, breeding kink, praise, a little unhinged gellert, dubcon, kissing.

SYNOPSIS: Being Newt’s sister is prideful for you but it also comes at a high risk. Especially when you’re also an auror often going on undercover missions. All comes crashing down when you're kidnapped by none other than the brainwashed followers of the strongest wizard — Gellert Grindelwald. Realizing he's completely obsessed, you try to outsmart him but the consequences to that come with a heavy price to pay.

Wizards were strong, so were witches.

Being the sister of a renowned wizard and an auror working at MACUSA, you had your own reputation to uphold. Often going on undercover commissions and assignments for the congress you worked for.

Just like that, you were out on an undercover mission once more to bring back information regarding one of the most dangerous beasts — having escaped your brother’s suitcase once more.

You hadn't expected to be caught red handed rummaging through the little drawers, in hopes of finding some knowledge about the beast’s origin. Your wand stayed firm in your hand, fingers flicking through the pages of books.

Not a single person knew where the beast had gone to, hence the ministry sent you to look for him. You were the best at being a sneaky little spy, so when you were apprehended by a flock of dark wizards and witches, it left you flummoxed.

Your endeavor to flee proved to be futile when they somehow took your only protection from you, the wand. There was no point in fighting them. They overpowered you and you were in no mood to be turned into an orb cursed to roam the earth for all of eternity.

Or worse, a frog.

Your vision was concealed with a dark blindfold. There was no way you could see where they were talking you but you knew they used their teleportation to deliver you to whoever that commanded them. Confusion had clouded your mind — hoping that this captivity was based on a simple misunderstanding.

Your pleas fell upon deaf ears.

They didn't harm you, only telling you to keep your mouth shut and not make noise. There was no way you could tell where you were and when all the noise swirled into silence, your blindfold was pulled open.

In front of you stood Gellert Grindelwald, most probably the strongest dark wizard of all time.

You'd seen him and what he could do. He'd proved himself capable and strong when half of the aurors at MASUCA left and converted to his side. The tales of it were all known but you were never a part of it. How did he get his hands on you and why did he? When all of it happened, you were tending to other needs of the ministry.

If his intention was to also manipulate you into switching to his side, that wouldn't work at all. You were loyal, a firm believer in keeping humanity safe and oblivious to the magic that breathed beneath the earth’s core.

You analysed your surroundings.

The room was beautiful. High, beige colored walls. Spectacular carvings decorating the ceiling and the massive chandelier hanging from it gave away at the opulence of this room. The curtains were made of smooth georgette, keeping away the lovely moonlight from illuminating the room.

Candle holders were everywhere, on the drawers — to the vanity table. Your breath shuddered at just how breathtaking the room actually was.

“Do you like it?” He asked, staring at you with the same gaze with which you scanned the room.

You took a step back, calves coming in contact with the bed. “What?”

“The room. I got it decorated for you, do you like it?” You licked your lips in nervousness, staring at the man in confusion. Did he give all his followers such rooms, such beautiful rooms? Is that why they were this influenced into following him?

You blinked at him. “If you think by presenting me with such a glamorous looking room, I will give in to you then you are absolutely wrong. I have and will always be loyal to the Congress.”

Your voice was hard, tone stern as you stared at him with furrowed eyebrows. Gellert let out a small laugh, shaking his head at you then he closed some of the distance between the two of you by stepping forward. Your body reacted by pressing your calves deeper into the bed.

“I could never, my love. How dare I to win your love by such meaningless little presents?” You blinked, again. Dumbfounded by his choice of words.

The sparkle in his different colored eyes was glinting. “It is only to maks you happy. This, and all the other gifts I have prepared for you, my love.”

“Grindelwald, do you believe you can make me join you by manipulating me through your affections?” You asked, a finger pointing at him. Your tone was laced with pure venom. This was the enemy, not someone you could possibly have a love affair with.

And why was he even talking to you like he was madly in love with you? This made no sense to you whatsoever. Gellert stepped towards you, hands intertwined behind his back.

“It is no manipulation. You have captivated me ever since I saw you with Newt, and all the other aurors of the Congress.” His words were of pure deceive, you thought you knew that but you were oblivious to the raw obsession which had blossomed for you in Gellert’s heart when he'd laid his gaze upon you.

Gellert inhaled a deep breath, shutting his eyes shut when you bit on your lower lip in a moment of frustration. “I have searched everywhere for you, my butterfly. I put hold on my ambitious and goals to look for you and here I have you finally.”

From Gellert’s expression, he appeared entirely drawn and infatuated. This was a spell which you'd unknowingly put on him, one you didn't know how to take off him but as a loyal auror to the MACUSA, you could use this to your own advantage.

And so a cunning plan cooked in your mind.

“You mean to tell me you're in love with me?”

Gellert shook his head. “I'm gone far beyond that, to the point of no return. I mastered dark magic to a dangerous extent just to locate you.”

You felt your skin crawl at his words. This was something dark — something that could swallow you whole if not careful. Your gaze lingered over to his face, holding unwavering eye contact with him. “If I don't reciprocate these emotions, will you burn me like how you burned those other aurors?”

Your words a poisonous reminder of his past actions. Newt had told you how him and the aurors barely managed to survive Grindelwald’s dark, fire magic. It had almost managed to consume them all and you were apprehensive to meet the same fate.

Gellert’s eyes softened. Eyebrows dropping, akin to a puppy. “Rest assured, my beautiful butterfly. I could never inflict such harm upon you ever. You can take your sweet time.”

A smile had ceased his features.

Instead of responding to him, you sat down on the bed. Knees bunching up to your chest, in a hostile position. A sigh dropped from your shuddering lips and your eyes trailed up to his face.

“Will you keep me locked up in this room?”

Gellert’s blue eye twitched. “Absolutely not. I wish you to roam the perimeters of my fine establishment but, you mustn't escape and in order for that to happen, I will have to trust you.”

Your eyes dropped to the marbled floor. It reflected the yellow candlelight as you sent him a slow nod, suffocating the conversation right then and there. Begging him to release you would hardly work in your favor so you decided to play smart. Returning his affections until you'd win his trust was the route you chose for yourself.

But you didn't know it would end differently than what you'd anticipated.

— ♡ —

Gellert kept you locked in your room for days, only visiting when he brought you food or other basic necessities. You were beginning to miss the feel of your beautifully sculpted wand between your fingers albeit the awareness of never receiving it ever again tug at your heartstrings.

You couldn't tell how long it had been.

Surely had to be more than two weeks.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts and you gave your consent. Gellert had respected your privacy, as obsessed and infatuated he was. He'd never dare to barge into your room without your permission but that didn't mean he would stay behind the closed doors for a long period of time.

An auror entered.

You knew that because it was the same auror which used to work under MACUSA at one point, the same auror which would bring you your meals when Gellert was not available to tend to you. You'd expected a tray of all sorts of edible flavoursome pleasantries decorated on a tray but the woman's hands were empty.

“He's waiting for you at the library, if you'd follow me.”

Your eyes widened in an elemnt of surprise.

Finally you were being let out and you couldn't contain the excitement within you. Still you tried to stay cool in front of the auror, nodding at her as you moved in pursuit of her. Through bright and moderate hallways — nothing could compete with the inside of your room and its walls.

A beautiful golden cage.

For his beautiful butterfly.

As you entered the library, your lips were agape. The view before you was the most beautiful ever. You'd expected a dull library, one you had back at your work place but this? This was completely captivating. A spectacular view of the sea greeted you through the large window. Gellert stood by the parapets, staring ahead.

Your heart beat picked up.

When he felt your presence, he was quick to turn around. A smile plastered on his face upon seeing you, silver locks neatly combed to the side. You slowly walked upto him, hesitation clear like crystal in your movements and Gellert couldn't wait for you to fully accept him.

You'd been obedient.

Ate your meals on time, listened to him, conversed with him and he could feel a sense of camaraderie had formed between the two though he ached for more. Friendship was not what he aimed with you. There were unnerving desires flogging within his core and he needed to set them free.

“Come here.”

You stood closer to him, hand on the glass railing. Your eyes ran across the potent waves of the sea crashing at the shore, and calming down. It was a repeated sight but you couldn't have enough of it.

“Its a beautiful sight, no?”

You nodded to him, focusing your attention on Gellert. “Yeah. It's breathtaking.”

“Nothing compares to you.” He so casually said and you wondered just how did you even manage to become the object of his affections and desire? It was hard to believe that he fell for you in a simple glance. Love at first sight coming from a dark wizard was of amusement.

Yet you didn't say anything about it.

“Gellert.” You called out, sharply taking in a breath. “Why me? I'm the sister of the man who seeks to destroy you. It is only natural for you to dislike me too.”

“We're wizards and witches, my butterfly. There is nothing natural about us.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

But he hadn't answered your question and he noticed the disarray on your face. Gellert’s hand lifted from the wood nailed into the tempered glass railing, reaching to cup the side of your face. Thumb settled over your chin in a gentle touch.

This was the first time in the two weeks you'd been here when he touched you.

His hands were cold, like he had no blood pumping through his veins. Your lips shuddered at the spark contrast of your warm skin against his cold blooded hand.

“You're kind.” He said, like it was the most beautiful thing ever about you. “You're so full of kindness and love for these animals, these filthy animals. Knowing you'll always be above them, be superior yet you protect them like they are your own.”

Your head tilted, bemused. “Don't you find them less than you? If you look down upon them, why did my kindness towards them intrigue you to the point of capturing me?”

Gellert’s eyes wandered. His other hand formed into a fist when he noticed how you gulped, the subtle movement of your throat sending him into a whirlpool. A turmoil of poorly contained desired and wanton exploding. The way your lips shuddered when he touched you. To you, he appeared calm and collected but on the inside Gellert was fighting his own demons.

“Because if you're so kind to love the muggles, you'd be kind enough to embrace me too.” The soft feeling of his gentle strokes over your cheek almost made you forget about everything.

The cunning plan. Winning his trust and escaping him was put on halt in that moment when Gellert stepped closer to you, face only an inch apart. His lips hovered above yours and you inhaled — warm breath mingling with his cold one.

He took your lips into a sweet kiss and you allowed him to, all a new step into the plan. To use his own feelings against him, find a way out and never look back. If you were to fight your way out of here, Gellert would end you with one swing of his wand. He'd mastered magic that was beyond your understanding even.

His other hand moved to hold your waist and you sighed into the kiss, tilting your head into giving him more access. Gellert’s tongue pried open your mouth for him, slipping into the warmth your cavern had to offer him. His tongue battled with yours but you'd already given up on winning, letting him consume you.

Before it could increase, evolve into something way past your comfort level, you retreated. Gellert’s hand ached to tighten around your waist but he held back, holding onto the tethered pieces of his self control.

Your chest rose up and down, the kiss having left you in a daze. You took a few steps backwards and then turned around, running out the library back to your room. Gellert not following you was a hint that he had finally begun to trust you.

You found yourself in the same room. Fingers trailing lines over your lips, a feeling best foreign to you spreading in your chest as well as stomach. You didn't know what was going on but there was only your freedom on your mind.

And the kiss.

The sweet kiss.

You were torn between following up with your plan and submitting to the sweet kiss. This was confusing and you dropped onto the bed, burying your face within your pillows.

— ♡ —

Days passed after the last encounter with him which included a kiss. He would come by, only for a few moments. Gellert would try to build conversations with you, in hopes that one day you might welcome him with open arms. You'd respond too, to slowly slither your way underneath the cloak of his trust. It wasn't such a difficult task because soon, Gellert had sent one of his followers with a dress for you.

The auror had placed the box on the bed and with the simple instructions to get ready and meet her outside, she left. You were baffled but still peeled open the nicely packed box and it revealed a beautiful dress.

A pale one, off shouldered with puffy sleeves and layers of fabric. You zipped yourself into it after a shower and then left the room, the woman leading you to a garden you didn't even know existed. Filled with magical beauty, you were in complete awe.

A table had been set. Decorated with all sorts of delicious looking pleasantries. The fairy lights illuminating the furniture was such an endearing sight. You walked further and found Gellert standing there and when he saw you, he extended his hand out for you.

You held onto it.

“God, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could devour you instead of my meal.” His comment caused the blood to rush to your cheeks. His thumb caressing the side of your hand as he lead you to the table.

After taking a seat at the table, Gellert also followed and sat across you. The dress made you appear nothing less than a beautiful fairy that had lost her way here. Grindelwald was completely enchanted by you — his hands and body aching to become one with you.

“I prepared this for you, for us, my butterfly.”

You nodded in acknowledgement.

Honestly no one had ever done this much for you. You had partners in the past but this? They could never reach Grindelwald’s level and it only worked to perplex you further.

You both started to eat.

“Do you like the food?”

You nodded. “It's very flavoursome. Thank you, Gellert.”

Everytime you said his name, he felt the chills in his bones. He often pondered late at night how you'd sound like when he's inside you, when he's completely buried deep within the warmth you had to offer. Gellert had appeared nothing less of a gentleman to you but only he knew of his deepest, most sickest desires for you.

Your voice was so soft.

An ache in him grew to hear you moan.

You both enjoyed your meal in silence and you reached over to grab a strawberry from the silver bowl, bringing it to your lips. You took a bite, relishing in its taste as a moan escaped you. Grindelwald was over the moon.

If these were the sounds you were supposed to make, his pants were already tightening.

After a moment, you two had finished eating and Gellert rose up from his seat. Sauntering towards you and holding his hand out for you, to hold.

You slipped your hand into his and stood up, walking in pursuit of him. The man lead you somewhere deep into the garden, a pathway made of stones that you carefully maneuvered your way on. Behind the bushes was concealed a bed — with see through pale curtains falling from its side. It had no roof over it, an unlimited view to the sparkling open sky.

“Gellert?” You asked, in burning anticipation.

He didn't listen to you, only pulled you along to the bed. He sat you down and then took a seat next to you, his hand still holding onto yours. “I've got something for you.”

He snapped his fingers and then multiple butterflies, in all sorts of colors, came flapping their wings. Your eyes enlarged and a smile automatically made its way to your features upon the sight. They were so beautiful and you loved how they moved their wings, a black butterfly with a holographic blue wings setting on your thigh.

You didn't touch it.

Only watched it.

“Gellert they're so gorgeous.” You whispered, impressed by this act of his. The butterflies had covered the area and you couldn't help bit try to capture a few, bridled by their beauty.

“Makes you want to capture them, doesn't it? How beautiful they are. You wish to keep them in a cage, only for you to look and touch.” Grindelwald had just given you and shown you a perfect example of your own situation and how he felt for you.

But you were a human.

A butterfly was a — butterfly.

Yet you couldn't help the guilt from spreading.

You stared at him, as the butterfly flapped its wings in front of you both. Gellert leaned forward, once again grasping your lips with his own. This time he had no intention of letting you leave.

His hands fell down to your waist, caressing it through the fabric. Lips wrapping around your lower lip, sucking on it like it could produce nectar at any given moment. Your back arched into the kiss and he immediately took that as you wanting more.

Gellert’s hands flew to the zipper of your dress, tugging it down. His fingers caressing along your spine in the process and your bated breath mingled with his. His tongue swirled around yours and when the dress dropped down to your waist, you gasped.

Your breasts were exposed and Gellert broke the kiss to admire them. He looked at you and you fought the urge to allow him — knowing that this was going too far into the plan you'd cooked up in your head. These were the consequences to your own actions.

“Gellert, please wait.” You breathlessly said.

He stopped. “Don't stop me now. I have waited years to have you.”

Before you could oppose, Gellert had already taken your breasts into his hand. Fondling the fat – playing with it. His fingers pinched and tugged and your lips released soft little whimpers. His hands were cold as ice and a hiss left you.

He took one erect nipple into his mouth as he undid the black bow at his tuxedo, letting it fall apart. Gellert sucked while toying with the other one and panic flooded in. You couldn't possibly let him go further with his, knowing that it wasn't your plan to do so but denying him right now could lead to suspicion.

As you tried to think of ways to make him stop, the desire burning in your core soon sheened your brain. Your hands hesitantly reached to tangle in his hair and feeling that response made Gellert act out more.

A form of consent, he took it as.

But in reality you couldn't do anything other than submit to the pleasure.

“You've got such a beautiful body.” He commented, hands dropping from your breasts and cupping your waist. His hands caressed your skin like it was a rare gem found among coal — only for the most fortunate ones. Your spine was erect and then Gellert pulled back.

His hands pushing your body down and you allowed him to, having no escape. The cold air mixed with his icy touch only worked as his allure. Gellert rid you of the dress, unveiling your glorious frame to his desperate gaze and he sharply breathed.

Chest rising up and down.

“Undress me, butterfly.” You swallowed, nervous at his command of your indulgence as well.

Your arms extended, fingertips pushing off the black coat off him. Gellert noticed the tremor in your hands and he couldn't care anymore. He'd waited years for this moment, to finally get his hands on you. It was cruel of you to expect more wait from him.

Your fingers undid the buttons of his white shirt and pried it open, exposing his broad chest. Gellert took one of your hands into his, bringing it upto his lips to deliver a firm kiss to it. Your heart beat fastened at that action.

Hands tugging at the buckle of his pants, you undid it and then tossed the belt somewhere in the garden. Gellert’s fingers caressed along your thigh, gently tapping at the exposed skin, gaze hungry and full of lust. Your breath hitched when he opened you to him, exposing your cunt.

You felt deeply ashamed of the saturation that had occured in your cunt.

You were an auror, a loyal auror to the Congress but here you were, involved in such sin with the dark wizard. The one who'd killed many of your colleagues and wished to change the order of the world.

Gellert slipped his own pants off along with his briefs. You were two naked bodies about to entangle and the idea terrified you. How could you ever possibly go back from this? Bring yourself to forget about this when its done?

You braced yourself in the name of a small sacrifice for an eternity of freedom.

Gellert’s hand found its way between your thighs and you let out a broken breath. His fingers trailing over your cunt — collecting your arousal. He was pleased with what he saw.

You were such a gorgeous girl. Laying before him with the moonlight illuminating your each feature, each flaw, all the beauty spots you had. Your hair like the waves of the sea, sprawled across the bed akin to vines that had trapped Gellert in their tight embrace. The constant twitching of your lips, the way heat prickled your cheeks and turned them beetroot. Gentle strokes of red paint over your canvas like skin.

He leaned forward to occupy your lips in a rough kiss.

He was a fucking mess and the grip on his self control was beginning to become lose.

Gellert’s fingers were coated in your slick and then he entered your pussy, swallowing the whimper which escaped you. His finger alone filled you and when you'd grown used to it, he added another one all while consuming your tongue.

You tilted your head to the side, your arms moving to wrap around his nape. Gellert fucked his fingers into your pussy, loving how tight you were. He could only imagine how delirious he would feel once he was inside your sweet cunt.

“G-Gellert.” You whimpered into the kiss, trying to break apart. “I can't breathe, Gellert.”

He didn't care. You could tell the man was losing any ounce of self control he once possessed, his lips pressing up against yours in a tight kiss. Spit coating your swollen lips and you gasped, to inhale, only for him to push his tongue inside your mouth. Roaming the warmness of it, he was kissing you feverishly.

His fingers plunged in and out of you and your back arched off the sheets. Your cunt throbbing due to the sensation being delivered to it. He curved his fingers and pushed into the gummy spot — a shriek breaking through you in the lip lock.

Gellert broke the kiss to breath.

As he stared down at you, he couldn't help but grow painfully harder and you swallowed when you caught glimpse of that. You could practically feel his cock against your knee and you sighed at the feeling.

“One kiss and you look like you'll pass out at any given moment.” He whispered, loving the way your lips puckered up and redenned over s single kiss.

A single, vigorous kiss of raw passion and infatuation.

“That wasn't a kiss.” You breathed, touching your lips with your fingers. “I-It felt like you were going to eat me at any second.”

Gellert chuckled at your words. He was glad you could feel his love for you through his actions. He was conscious about not possessing enough affection for you to acknowledge his love but he was pleased that you caught onto it.

His fingers worked their way, to prepare you and your arms flew back to his nape. Breath released in shattered little whines as he now added another form of pleasure by massaging your clit. The nerves being stimulated sent you to a different world — back rising from the mattress and lips falling apart.

Gellert felt you tighten.

“Going to cum, sweet girl?” You nodded at him, your thighs shivering.

Before you could chase after your release, he stopped. You whined in frustration, staring at him through hooded eyes. “W-Why?”

After asking him that, you wanted a void to open up and swallow you. You were not on his team, not a part of him, how could you beg for his touch? A release from a man like him? It all tore you apart and confused you.

“You're going to cum with me. On my cock, my beautiful butterfly.” He whispered, the gleam in his blue eye giving away his desire.

You shuddered when he pressed the fat head of his cock against your clit and you whimpered at the contact. Gellert licked his lips, dragging his head down and soon entering you.

The moment he did, you threw your arms around him. His hips pushed forward and his cock fully sunk into you. Your back arched when you felt him glide against your walls — your sinful arousal helping him in the process of it. Gellert couldn't help he was finally one with you.

Body entangled with yours.

Gellert brought his hands to cup your face and stared down at you, face at a close proximity with yours. He stared in your eyes, gaze flickering between your lips. “You okay?”

You nodded. The stretct of his cock had you delirious and you gasped when he moved inside you. Pulling his cock out only to slide it back inside. A constant rhythm of suppressed desires. “It'll feel good, my butterfly. I'll make sure that I please you first. I'm a selfish man but not when it comes to the pleasures of the woman I love.”

He leaned forward to kiss you and you, to your own shock, gave in. Letting him to kiss you like his life depended on it while the pace of his thrusts picked up. Gellert’s hands fell from your face, falling down to grip the curves your body you had to offer. Hands trailing up and down.

He felt as though he was in the presence of a goddess.

Tilting his head, he kissed you with profound fervour, as if to embed you with his taste. Gellert’s tongue occupied your mouth, teeth crashing with teeth. The kiss grew intense and so did the movement of his hips as he drove his cock into you. Thrusting and then you cried out in the moan when he fucked into you a little deeper.

He grinned.

He'd found that spot of sensitivity.

He broke the kiss to witness you all before him. A broken beauty that was finally within his grasp and there was no way he was ever going to let you go. He couldn't believe you'd come to him this easily, this willingly and all of it felt like a dream come true.

Gellert stared at you, admiring you.

“You're so beautiful, it makes me want to give you a child.”

Your eyes widened at his words. In a fit, you attempted to push him off you but Gellert was so blinded by his delusions, he only saw it as your excitement to build with a family with him. His demeanor changed — becoming darker as his hands gripped you by your hips, driving himself into you.

Your little hands tried to reach for him, leaving minor scratches at his shoulders. Gellert was completely far gone, there was no stopping him at all.

“G-Gellert, no.” You managed to stutter out through moans and whimpers.

He ignored it, thinking it to be an imagination.

You were regretting everything. You shouldn't have went ahead with this stupid plan. If you'd shown resistance from the beginning, none of this would've happened. Gellert wouldn't have thought of you to be this pliant and maybe he wouldn't have done this.

A big maybe.

The man was sick. He was going to have you one way another. You being pliant only made things easier for him and upon yourself.

Gellert’s grip tightened as he delivered harsh strokes. With utter determination to get you pregnant. If you were witu child, his child, you wouldn't possibly think of leaving him. Things would be different and everything would fall in his favor.

Your cunt clenched, still on edge from before and he hissed. “No, sweet girl. You will not cum until I am close. We will cum together and I will give you my child, a symbol of our love.”

Tears fell down.

Whether as seeds of your resistance or your pleasure. Unbeknownst to you and Gellert, he felt himself come closer to you.

But then he stalled, picking your leg up and placing it over his shoulder. His hands held your pelvis and his thumbs dug into your skin as his thrusts grew rougher, more firm. You sobbed, stomach tightening and reflexing whenever he slid across your walls.

Gellert groaned. Your pussy gripping his walls, not letting go. A greedy cunt you possessed and Gellert couldn't wait to fill it to the brim with his seed.

“Wish I'd find you sooner.” He grunted, “we would have a child by now but worry not my butterfly, it isn't too late. Is it?”

He was actually expecting you to answer when you were on the brink of falling apart. The irony of him.

“Is.” Gellert thrusted, fucking deeply into you with vigor. “It?”

You shook your head. “N-No. Never t-too late Gellert.”

He nodded his head in satisfaction, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He felt his balls throb, and you felt his cock twitch inside you. Gellert was close and he smiled at you, silver strands of hair hovering over his sweaty forehead. “Ready, yeah? Ready, my butterfly?”

He was breathless.

Panting like the same beast that you were supposed to find.

You nodded, desperately. Cheeks blooming a red hue and tears wetting them. Gellert’s thrusts slowed down, as he felt his load seep into your cunt. He filled you to the brim, balls hot and throbbing to produce more. You also unraveled underneath him, eyes rolling back to your skull and chest heaving up. Chills danced across your spine as the blood rushed through your veind. Your whines echoing in the garden in contrast to his animalistic groans.

Gellert twitched, feeling how painfully tight your sweet cunt had gotten around him yet he could only find pleasure in it. Enjoying in the vice like grip. Your greedy pussy sucked him in, drinking each drop of his load, milking him dry.

“Yes. Yes, my love. Take my cock in your cunt like that, milk it fuckin’ dry. You'll make me a father, won't you, my sweet girl?”

There was no point in resisting him. You nodded your head as his hand reached down to cup your cheek, lovingly caressing it. You subconsciously leaned into his touch, an insatiable ache spreading in your chest for it.

When he'd filled you enough, Gellert pulled out and watched as his load dripped out of your gaping hole. His gaze lingering upto you and loving how fucked out you seem. Your arm was over your face, in a shameful attempt to veil it and Gellert reached for it, moving it aside.

“Don't hide yourself from me. You belong to me and I belong to you. There is nothing that should be concealed within us.” He laid next to you, pulling you into him. The hair on his chest slightly prickling against your skin.

You couldn't believe what you'd just done and committed to.

That too with Gellert.

Fucking Gellert Grindelwald.

“Our child will be the strongest wizard or witch ever. I'll see to it.” Gellert pressed a kiss to your head, hiding his face in your neck. The butterflies had disappeared now, the fairy lights dimming on their own.

Darkness consumed the area.

And you too lost yourself in Gellert’s warm embrace. Forever torn between your loyalty as an auror to MACUSA or the ache to be with Gellert.

[onceuponastory]

protective - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky gets protective over Y/N during a mission. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A guy being creepy, reader being slightly uncomfortable and Bucky wanting to fight the guy. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is very loosely based on El Tango De Roxanne from Moulin Rouge because I love that scene & that song. Also I was thinking about a Moulin Rouge AU so lemme know your thoughts. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. Thank you to @staticscreenwriting for my divider!

“I don’t like this.” Bucky hisses, throwing a hard stare across the room. Nervously, he taps his feet. Although, when he sees Y/N standing there, leaning against the bar as she sips from her drink, his face softens ever so slightly, and a small smile grows on his face. But once he remembers what they’re doing here, his hard stare returns. He really doesn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Don’t worry Buck. She’s got this.” Steve’s voice crackles over the headset. “Besides, she has a wire on, so we’ll be able to hear everything, and we can step in if we need to.” Despite how his words are trying to be supportive, Bucky doesn’t feel comforted at all by his words. 

Tonight, they’re on another mission, ready to stop some corrupt agent intent on causing chaos. And Y/N was sent undercover to charm him and try to extract information because she’s not as publicly known as the other Avengers. It’s not the first time Y/N’s done something like this, but this time, Bucky hates the thought of sending her out there alone. From what Bucky’s heard, despite the man’s kind facade, he’s extremely cruel when he needs to be, and he has no issue with stepping on people to get what he wants. And no doubt he would do just the same to Y/N if she ever got in his way. Despite how experienced she is, the thought of Y/N stuck there with him alone makes his stomach churn.

“Sam, do you have visuals on Y/N?”

“Yes, Bucky. I did the first time you asked, and I still do now.” Before Bucky even asks his next question, Sam answers it. “Yes, I’m keeping an eye on her.”

“Good.”

Bucky knows his two best friends are worried about Y/N too, but he also knows that they think he’s overreacting slightly that Y/N is going to be perfectly safe. Bucky just hopes they’re right. Y/N is incredibly skilled at going undercover, and there’s no doubt she’ll do just as well today and get the information they need. It’s just that Bucky cares too much about her to let her go into these dangerous situations alone. At least not without her knowing that he’s there on the other end if she needs him. He’s been in love with her for as long as he can remember, and the last thing he wants is for her to be put in danger. His gaze goes back to Y/N, and he sighs. She looks gorgeous tonight, dressed to the nines. But that’s not too difficult. To Bucky, Y/N always looks gorgeous. Maybe one day he’ll actually find the guts to tell her the truth, instead of standing here all forlorn and lovesick, as Sam and Steve call it.

“Showtime.” Sam whispers, cutting through his thoughts. Bucky watches as the man enters the room, making a beeline straight to the bar. Y/N notices him too, and makes a point of brushing up against him slightly as she requests another drink. The man looks over her, pointedly staring at her chest and her ass. Bucky’s jaw clenches.

“Let me get that.” The man grins, placing his hand on Y/N’s wrist and reaching out with his card before Y/N can do anything. “Can’t let a pretty girl like you pay for your own drink now, can I?” Bucky suppresses a desire to vomit. Creep.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiles, batting her eyelashes slightly. The sight makes Bucky’s stomach flutter, the same way it usually does when he sees Y/N. Sometimes, Bucky likes to imagine that Y/N’s flirting is for him, and that she feels the same way he does for her. But for real this time.

As Y/N and the man find a table and start chatting, Bucky continues to watch, hating every moment. The way the man leers at her, a sick smirk on his face the entire time, makes Bucky’s stomach churn even more. He knows what assholes like him do, and he hates every part of it.

“Can you cool it with the glare, Buck? I’m not even in the same room as you and I can feel it burning through the wall.” Bucky ignores Sam’s comment and instead works through an action plan. A way to rescue Y/N in case she needs help. As he does so, he keeps a cautious eye on the pair, just in case. As she laughs along with the man, Bucky can pick up on the awkwardness in her laugh. He swears the noise makes his stomach twist. When the man presses a kiss to her cheek and a small flicker of unease crosses Y/N’s face, Bucky swears his heart almost stops.

In a moment, he jumps up, ready to charge in, to peel the man’s arms off of Y/N and drag him away from her. But before he can, Y/N takes control once more, changing the subject. Yet still, Bucky keeps a wary eye on the man. He flexes his metal arm, ensuring he’s ready to jump in and protect Y/N.

Whatever the cost.

Thankfully though, only a few hours later (albeit longer than Bucky would’ve liked), the agent suddenly has to leave, bringing the mission to a halt. And soon, Y/N is back safe and sound in the compound with the others. 

“Well done Y/N.” Steve praises, and Sam nods.

“Yeah. Great job.” Bucky murmurs, his tone causing Y/N to raise a brow.

“Guys, can I speak to Bucky alone for a moment, please?” she asks. Glancing at each other, Steve and Sam nod and leave the room. “So. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” he shrugs. Scoffing, Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“Bucky, there’s no point in lying. I know you.” She’s right, she does know him really well. Sometimes, Bucky swears that Y/N knows him better than anyone else. Even better than Steve. There’s no way he could even try to hide his feelings from her. “And besides, you were staring daggers out the window the whole ride back. Now, tell me what the problem is.”

“I just… when you were with that guy, I was worried about you, okay?!”

“Aww Bucky, you really do care about me!” she grins, giggling like it’s just a joke. But little does she know, Bucky doesn’t see it that way.

“I do care about you! Fuck Y/N, I care about you more than anything in this world, and the thought of that… that sicko being anywhere near you, o-or laying his hands on you makes me feel sick!” He exclaims, the words slipping out without another thought. “I know how good you are at going undercover, but the last thing I want is you getting hurt.” Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh… oh.” As silence falls amongst the pair, Bucky’s heart pounds. Why did it all have to slip out like that? Maybe keeping it in for so long has finally taken its toll. Y/N stares back at him, still silent. Bucky blushes, his cheeks turning scarlet. Now he looks like an idiot. A total lovesick idiot. 

“I’ll, um. I’ll go.” 

“No, wait.” Y/N stops him as he starts to leave, reaching out and touching his arm. “I-I never knew you felt that way about me, Bucky. Thank you.” she smiles, and Bucky nods.

“Y/N, I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” he admits, chuckling slightly. “You’re very special to me, Y/N.”

“And you’re special to me too, Buck. I’m so glad to have someone like you looking out for me.” Before Bucky can even respond, she presses a kiss to his cheek, his stubble lightly grazing against her lips. This almost sends Bucky’s heart into overdrive, and he swears his skin tingles from where she kissed him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and I had no idea you felt the same way about me.” she whispers, her words making Bucky’s mouth drop open. “I need to go type out my mission report, but maybe we can grab dinner afterwards? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” Bucky nods. And then she heads down the hallway, waving goodbye. Even after she disappears from sight, Bucky still stares down the hall. He cups his cheek, still feeling it burn from when she kissed him. Still dumbstruck at how Y/N likes him back. A goofy grin overtakes his face. 

Despite how badly tonight started, he’s never been as happy as he is right now.

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm not sleeping on the floor

masterlist

summary: when you go on a mission with the famous Black Widow, who you think hates you, there appears to be some trouble with the hotel booking, one that ends in the truth being revealed.  

pairing: Natasha x teen avengers reader

warnings: none I think

genre: fluff

words: 1695

a/n: I remember reading a fic of a Natasha x reader where the hotel only had one bed and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to read more of them, but of course I could find none so I decided to write one myself :)   (if you know any fics with this concept, please tag them in the comments)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You sighed deeply while you sat in the car at the gas station, waiting for Natasha to finish up and continue your drive to the hotel. It was late, and both of you were tired. You knew Natasha must be mentally exhausted, always feeling as if she didn’t like you that much. At first you thought it was because you were still a teenager, but now you were convinced she just didn’t like you. 

You, however, looked up to her, and when Fury made you the offer to join the Avengers you were excited to meet her. When you did, your excitement soon faded, noticing how cold she was towards you. You were heartbroken, but soon learned that staying out of her way was the best way to go. 

And so, on most days in the compound you avoided her. When she came into the training room, you’d leave, and when you came into the kitchen she’d do the same. 

It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you thought it worked to not make her upset. That changed however, when Fury decided that the next mission was perfect for the two of you to complete, going undercover as mother and daughter at an expensive party clearly meant only for the rich. You didn’t exactly come from a rich family, and you felt very out of place during the whole evening.

You didn’t think Natasha noticed, she herself looked right where she belonged, as if she was made for this kind of life. Just another thing that made the two of you different. 

Your train of thought was interrupted when the car door opened, Natasha getting in and handing you a bottle of water. You gave her a quiet ‘thank you’ and took a few sips, clearly dehydrated from being at the party too long.

“It’s about a two hour drive to the nearest hotel,” she told you, typing in some navigation in the car. “Would you like some music?” Natasha asked as she turned to you. You didn’t dare look at her, deciding to just stare at your feet. “Sure,” you told her. 

Natasha gave a hmm of acknowledgement before putting on some music, making the rest of the car ride a lot less awkward than the previous hour had been.

Once you arrived at the hotel, Natasha told you to grab your bag and follow her inside. You followed her instructions like a lost puppy, not wanting to do anything that might make Natasha mad. Once inside the hotel, Natasha walked up to the desk, asking for a room for her and her daughter. She was smart, not letting the roles you were giving fall away just yet. 

The lady at the desk smiled sweetly, typed something into her computer and then handed Natasha a key. Natasha walked back to you, motioning to the elevator. You followed her once again.

When you made it to your room, and you walked through the door, you realized there was only one bed. Something you saw Natasha wasn’t really happy with either. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping on the floor,” she told you, settling her stuff against a wall. 

You nodded, settling your own stuff on a chair. You didn’t want to pick a side on the bed, worried Natasha would end up with a side she’d be uncomfortable with. “You can shower first,” you told her. Natasha gave a sound that resembled a ‘thanks’ before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving you alone in the empty room. 

You could hear the shower run, and the fact you didn’t have to sleep alone comforted you in a way that was hard to describe, even if it was with a person you were sure didn’t like you. You settled on sitting on the floor, grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and busying yourself with some sketching. 

Once Natasha came out, you slipped into the bathroom, wanting to shower and get into bed as quickly as possible. 

You showered quickly, getting rid of all the dirt before drying off and putting on some comfortable clothes. You walked back into the room, seeing Natasha had already settled on her side of the bed, book in her hand. She looked at you when you reentered the room, closing her book and setting it on her bedside table.

She had picked the side of the bed closest to the door. Maybe a habit of hers, you thought. So she could run out of the room the fastest. 

You walked to your bag, grabbing your favorite stuffed animal from it before settling into bed, as far away from Natasha you could manage. It was bad enough you had to sleep in the dark. All be damned if you had to sleep without your stuffed animal as well. 

You felt Natasha’s eyes on you, eyeing you as you kept your stuffed animal close. You thought she was judging you for still sleeping with one, not realizing she was simply concerned. 

You crawled under the covers, making sure Natasha had all the space she needed. This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, but she decided not to comment on it. 

When you joined the Avengers she didn’t agree with it at all. She told Fury she found you way too young, not even being a legal adult yet. Fury dismissed her, saying you were a perfect person. She was upset when Fury didn’t agree with her, and when she met you she was hesitant. When she saw you for the first time, her heart simply broke. You looked so young, and in your eyes she could see the world hadn’t been kind to you. 

You greeted her with a smile though, one Natasha found herself being unable to return. You were just a child. How could Fury possibly ever send you on a mission. How could he ask you to risk your life for something you probably didn’t even understand yet. After she met you, she was avoiding you, not wanting to face the reality of the fact you were risking your life in their team. When she saw you train it reminded her of the Red Room, feeling as though she was no better when she let you join the Avengers. 

Little did she know that you took this behavior as resentment towards you. And so, you started avoiding her, sensing that you made the Russian uncomfortable.  You didn’t want to be in her way, so you stayed out of it. You avoided her, and Natasha simply thought you learned about her past and were afraid of her. She decided to avoid you too, not wanting to scare you or make you uncomfortable. 

And so, the cycle began. Both of you avoided the other for months, until this mission was called. Natasha was excited she got to work with you one on one, but she was worried you wouldn’t like it. 

She sensed your uncomfortable feeling throughout the whole party, hating herself for not knowing what to do about it. When she saw the one bed she was simply afraid she’d make you more uncomfortable. She decided to sleep closest to the door so she could protect you if anything were to happen, something you picked up wrongly as well.

When she saw your stuffed animal, her heart simply broke. It was just another realization for her about how young you really were. You weren’t supposed to do these kinds of missions yet. 

“Goodnight,” she told you, turning the lights off. l

The room was completely dark, scaring you in a way you couldn’t really explain. You never liked the dark, but after your father would lock you up in that dark room every time he got sick of you, you feared it more than anything else. 

You whimpered slightly, hoping Natasha didn’t notice. Of course she did, but she didn’t let you know that. You clutched your stuffed animal closer to your body. You were terrified, feeling as though you were back in that little room. Natasha, nor any of the other Avengers knew about your past. Together with Fury you decided to keep it a secret, thinking it was better that way.

You shivered, pulling the blanket a little higher up. 

“Are you okay?” you heard a voice from beside you. Your head whipped around, your mind completely leaving the hotel room and you got stuck inside your own head. 

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Natasha said, sitting up a little. “You’re safe,” you looked at her with fear for a few seconds, before you realised where you were. Your body relaxed a little, the blanket not held so tight anymore. 

“Do you not like the dark?” Natasha asked you carefully. You slowly shook your head, scared you might make her upset. “We can keep a light on, or I could hold you… maybe…” Natasha continued unsure. She still thought you were afraid of her, and didn’t want to overstep.

“Why would you help me? You don’t even like me…” you told her, looking down at your stuffed animal. 

Natasha frowned. Was that really what you thought of her? “What do you mean?” she asked you confused. “You walk away when I’m training, you don’t even look at me, and you always seem to be mad at me,” you told her slowly, still not looking at her.

“I thought you were afraid of me…” Natasha said softly. You looked at her now, eyes a little wide. “Afraid of you? No. I admired you. I just figured you didn’t like me so I kept my distance,” you explained to her. Natasha smiled at you. “I didn’t agree with Fury for placing you on the team because you’re so young. It has nothing to do with you, or the person you are,” Natasha explained, shuffling a little closer.

“Come here.” She opened her arms, letting you shuffle into them. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” she said as she held her arms around you, giving you a secure and safe feeling.

“Thank you,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Anytime kid,” Natasha replied as she let her own eyes close, falling asleep peacefully. 

[dailyreverie]

Sleepy prompt 13 with bucky please <3

Hi there!! Thanks for requesting 🥰 I lost track of how many tropes are in here (bed sharing, idiots in love, mutual pining, fake couple, just to mention some) so... yeah... I hope you like it!

13. “For someone who claims to not be a cuddler, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself all night.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns, reader is called doll)

Word count: 617

For being your first night of the undercover mission, you really couldn’t complain about your sleep. You expected endless tossing, not being able to catch a single minute of sleep, when, in reality, the second your head hit the pillow you were out. You even had the privilege to oversleep, only waking up when your stomach growled at the first hint of the smell of food being prepared.

The scent of coffee guided you through the apartment, tumbling in your step still in the process of waking up, until you found Bucky in the kitchen preparing two mugs. You watched him from the kitchen island, his back to you as he poured milk into the mugs. Bucky, your brand new husband according to the mission files, with whom you recently moved into your newlywed apartment in the same complex where, apparently, a bunch of ex-hydra people lived.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He said elongating the word, all serious as he is, just toying with the new term on his lips. If he liked it, you couldn’t tell.

“Morning, babe.” You did the same, your voice still raspy from the lack of use making you cringe a little, and when it made his heart skip a beat he knew it: it was over for him.

It was obvious why it would be you and him playing the undercover couple, if anyone bantered like one already married for ages that would be Bucky and you; you got each other, simple as that. The chemistry was almost palpable, and Sam could swear he saw him smile every time you entered the room.

“Slept well?” He joked at the sight of you, hair in a bun pushed sideways and your head resting on your hand.

“I did,” You stretch your arms, sleep still making them a bit numb. “I’m guessing you did too because, y’know, for someone who claims not to be a cuddler, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself all night.” Bucky rolls his eyes and glares at you, but the smirk on his lips gives him away; he can’t be mad at you, not even with your endless teasing. Right, that’s why you slept so well. “Is it going to be a regular thing? A heads-up would have been nice.” You match his discreet smile, one he’s trying and failing to hide behind his mug.

“Don’t you dare cuddle me, Barnes.” You said last night when tucking into the only bed available. “Or you’ll fall in love.”

“In your dreams, doll.” …oh little did you know.

“Ha ha ha,”  Bucky mocks, the smile growing on his face. “Well, what can I say, doll? You were the one who got closer to me first. What else could I do?” When he hands you your coffee and leans over the counter, ending face to face with you, you are faced with the penetrating blue of his eyes, tired and sleepy still as were yours.

“You could have pushed me away.” You speak after a sip of coffee, the mug still covering half your face trying to avoid him discovering the crippling red color that was expanding over your face and neck. “Act all macho husband and claim your space.”

“Push you away?” He bit his cheek and visibly swallowed his words as he thought of what to say without giving himself away, only looking at you in hopes you would somehow read his mind. “Never.”

You shared a smile as you both had another sip of coffee, his eyes still piercing yours as you both fell into a comfortable, homey silence. The mission was forgotten for a while, because hydra or not hydra, you didn’t mind this new morning routine of yours.

🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[mistydeyes]

an undercover beach episode

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summary: You find yourself undercover again with Gaz but this time your uniform is a cherry red bathing suit and his are swimming trunks. He can't help but flirt a little especially when you're wearing his favorite color.

Part of @glitterypirateduck Gaz Fest! Please check out the tag to see other amazing works or consider participating :) Category: undercover Prompt: "You're not going out in that"

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader (codename: Genesis)

warnings: swearing, violence, the male gaze

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“Genesis, it’s almost time to go,” Price called as Gaz emerged from the adjacent room. Gaz smoothed out his swim trunks and looked at his name tag on the waistband. He mumbled something to Price about hating the uniform for this mission. “Just give me a second,” you replied as you tried to tie your bathing suit top. “God why am I always undercover,” you grumbled. Despite your technical skills on the field and being just as good of a sniper as Ghost, you someone always found yourself in some kind of outfit. It also somehow was always with Gaz. But you didn't mind being paired with the gorgeous man. “Gen let’s go!” Gaz's voice sounded through the door. “Fine but you’re going to have to tie this for me.” With that, you grabbed your sheer white coverup and put a pair of sunglasses on your head. You turned the knob to see Gaz standing on the other side.

He practically dropped the file in his hands when he saw you. You were glistening with suntan oil as you eyed him. You held the strap of your red halter bikini top, and Gaz’s eyes traveled down your fit body. The red perfectly matched your skin tone and the suit accentuated your assets. Is this heaven, he thought to himself as his gaze traveled from your chest downwards to your hips and thig- “Kyle?” you pulled him out of his daydream, “can you please tie my top? Then we can go.” He shook his head as you looked at him confused. “You’re not going out in that,” he coughed and tried to slow his rapid heartbeat. After many missions and shared safe houses, he wondered if there was a future between you too. The bathing suit was not helping, especially when he knew you were being used as bait. You rolled your eyes at his comment. “I only packed one bathing suit and plus we’re going down to the pool,” you explained, annoyed, “trust me I wish I was on holiday wearing this and not here.” He continued to stand there, dumbfounded. You tried to cover your wandering gaze to his muscular chest by feigning annoyance. “Can you please," you practically shouted and he brought his hands to yours.

Your fingertips brushed as he fumbled with the stretchy fabric. "Too tight?" he questioned as he finished and you shook your head. "Now how do I look?" you said, turning with a smirk. “Nice uniform, Gen” Ghost commented from near the balcony. You turned your body to him and Gaz took a moment to notice how the bathing suit barely covered your ass. He was glad you couldn't catch him peeking a look. “Shut up, you should be the one wearing this,” you mumbled as you glared at him. "You have a good look from here?" you asked as you motioned to the glass doors. Below sat the beaches on the Amalfi coast and beautifully striped cabanas. "Good enough," he said, lowly, "as long as you and Gaz can get the mission done then I shouldn't have to intervene." You nodded before turning back to the rest of the task force. "Ready to go, Gaz?" you asked, trying to avert your eyes from his sunscreen-covered body which looked perfect in his server uniform. He nodded and you allowed him to go first with Soap and Price following after.

After you exited the room, you went your separate ways. Gaz blended into the service bar while Soap and Price in their beach attire, took the elevator with you. "That come with more than a string, lass?" Soap joked as you descended the floors. You made sure to crush his toe in response. "Let's just get this over with," you mumbled before ignoring the eyes of the other guests and making your way to the warm sand. When you reached the cabanas, you placed your sunglasses daintily on your nose as you looked for your target. "Bingo," you whispered to yourself as you made your way to the Italian crime boss. "Mind if I join?" you flirted and he looked like a bull seeing a red muleta. "Of course, you can," he responded and gestured you into his cabana. You closed the white curtain slyly and sat on his lap. You hoped Gaz noticed you entered as you made a flirtatious conversation with the older man.

"I have a glass of sangria," you heard through the curtain and took a deep breath upon seeing Gaz with a tray. The man gestured to the table and Gaz went to put it down, accidentally spilling it on the ground and the man's feet. You jumped back with the man saying a handful of swears in Italian. As Gaz tried to clean the spill with a towel, he bent down and pulled out a syringe. The man barely had time to register the situation as Gaz plunged it into his thigh. You laid the now dead man down on the light blue couch and turned to notice Gaz's eyes on you. "Stop that," you demanded and he looked away. "I'm not the only one in a bathing suit," you joked before motioning for him to exit first. "See you soon, Gen," he winked and you hid your blush with your hands. You left soon after and pretended to say you'd be right back. With the mission successfully completed, you rendezvoused in the hotel room. Everyone was packing up their things as Gaz laid on the bed.

"What was in that thing anyways?" you asked as you fell next to him. "Lead I think?" he questioned, "Laswell gave it to me." You shared a small laugh at her ingenuity. Gaz suddenly turned to his side and you reflexively covered your exposed chest. The sheets felt cold as you felt heated at his gaze. "Red looks good on you," he smirked and you couldn't help but feel a little flush. "Really now?" you retaliated, mirroring his position, "Don't tell me it's your favorite color." Gaz couldn't hide the attraction to you and got up to avoid your interrogation. As he left you called out to him. "Maybe I can get this to be my swim uniform!"

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Fluffcember Day 8 | Little River

Pairing | Avenger!Fiancé!Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Fiancée!Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff (Platonic)

Word count | 1.2K

Summary | You just found out you're having a baby, but since Loki is away on a long undercover mission you can't tell him about it just yet. Instead, you turn to your best friend, Natasha, to come up with the perfect way to tell Loki you're expecting. Once everything is in place and Loki is back home, you can't wait to reveal the news and see his reaction to your growing family.

Warning(s) | Established relationship ~ Fiancé/Fiancée, mentions of pregnancy, Loki getting the biggest surprise when he comes back from the mission.

A/n | This one-shot is written for day 8 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. Writing for Loki is always a lot of fun for me (and I often wonder why I don't do it more...), so this was a hoot to write! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this as well as helping me with the ideas, I'm happy to have you back! ❤️🎄

Events Masterlist | Sleepy back hugs | @buckys-wintersoldier

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

You're sitting on the bathtub's edge with your head in your hands, waiting impatiently for the timer to go off. The box clearly said to wait five minutes for the results, but these same five minutes feel like absolute torture.

And to top it all off, you're currently going through this moment alone because your fiancé, Loki, is on an undercover mission with no way to reach him. The universe's timing couldn't possibly have been worse.

When the alarm finally goes off, you practically launch forward, grabbing the test and looking at the result. Your suspicions are immediately confirmed when the test shows two prominent red lines: you're pregnant.

You can't help but let a sob escape from your chest because while you're thrilled, you're also sad that you can't share this moment with the person you're dying to share this with.

The topic of children hasn't come up too often in your relationship, though the few times it did, you two always came to the same conclusion: as long as you're still Avenging, you won't bring a child into this world.

But this plan has a significant shift, and you might step away from the Avengers sooner than anticipated. It's not that you haven't thought about it, but now that you're officially pregnant, that idea might become a reality.

First things first, though, you'll find Natasha so you can talk things through with her. To make this task easier on yourself, ask the AI for help.

''FRIDAY? Please tell me where Ms. Romanoff is at this moment. I need to talk to her.''

''It appears that Ms. Romanoff is currently in the living room with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. Do you want me to notify her of your arrival?''

''No, thank you,'' you tell the AI before changing into comfortable clothes; you can't exactly go out there in your underwear.

You left the test in your bathroom for now, and you head towards the living room to find Steve and Bucky cuddling on one end of the couch and Nat sitting on the other side, her body turned to them.

They're in the middle of a discussion about the next movie night since it's Steve's turn to pick the movie. He always chooses the same film, and Nat tries to convince him to pick something else, but she might be losing this discussion.

''She'll agree with me, won't you?'' Nat asks as you walk into the living room, and your eyebrows instantly shoot up, seeing how you didn't know what was happening.

''I'm sure I will, but that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to borrow you for a while,'' you say as you point towards Natasha, who gladly gets up to come with you.

''So, what's up?'' she asks when you lead her to your bedroom, where the test is still lying. The closer you get, the more nervous you get, but if there's anyone you trust with this news, it's Nat.

''Well... I- I have some news to share with you,'' you tell her, unsure where to start. She stops you in the hallway and forces you to look at her.

''Are you and Loki doing okay? Did something happen between you two?'' she asks, her brows furrowed in concern, but you quickly assure her that's not the case.

''No, god no! We're okay, we're doing great, actually,'' you say with a big smile, which Nat immediately reciprocates. All her worries instantly melt away, and how she feels about you and Loki is visible.

''But... there will be something changing between us though, and I want to show you exactly what,'' you say, and before you know it, you're in your bedroom, showing her the still very positive pregnancy test.

''Oh my god, I'm going to be an Auntie?! I can't believe it!'' she asks, and you nod your head before he flings herself around your neck, squealing in pure excitement.

When the first excitement finally ebbed away for a bit, you sat down on your bed with the pregnancy test still in your hand, and then the realization came flooding back that you must also tell your fiancé.

''How should I tell him the good news? Because I don't just want to spring this onto him, it's our first baby, so I want to make it special; I want to make it something he will never forget,'' you say, and an idea instantly sparks in Nat's head.

''I have the perfect idea, and you don't need many things for it!'' she says, and that's how the idea of how you're going to tell Loki you're pregnant is formed.

Exactly one week later, Loki returned from his mission, and after his shower, he changed into something comfortable. Now you're cuddling on your shared bed, making up for lost time.

''I love you so much, you know that? I can't believe I had to miss my beautiful wife-to-be for nearly two months...'' he tells you as he places a soft kiss in your hair.

''I missed you too, but I have a little present for you now that you're back,'' you tell him, and you wiggle out of his grasp, ready to grab the gift box you've prepared with Nat over the last week.

You grab an emerald green box with a silver bow around it and hand it to your future husband as you sit cross-legged in front of him. You watch intently as he unwraps it, lifting the lid, and he watches the sides of the box fall open.

Inside are the positive pregnancy test, baby shoes, and your small letter. Loki picks up the pregnancy test, and you can see tears form at his waterline.

''Loki? Is everything-'' ''I'm going to be a Dad?'' he asks in a small voice, accidentally interrupting you mid-sentence.

''Well, how about you read the letter?'' you tell him, and he grabs it, folding it open.

Dear future husband,

When you read this, you already know I am officially three months pregnant with your baby. Our little River will be born around Easter, and I cannot wait to meet them.

I'm very grateful to see our family grow, and I am forever thankful that you have given me the wonderful gift of our bunny. Our family will officially be complete once they're here, and I hope they will be just like you. Perfect in every way.

I love you forever and always.

~ Your future wife

As he reads the letter, you can see a tear or two escaping, trickling down his pale white cheek onto the paper. He reads the letter three, four, maybe five times before putting it down and looking at you.

''I can't believe it, we're going to have a baby!'' he says excitedly, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. He puts the present to the side so you can sit in his lap and cuddle him tightly.

That night, as you two are about to fall asleep, he pulls you with your back against his chest, and you let yourself melt into his touch. His large hand and long fingers are splayed over your belly, fiercely protecting it.

''I love you, hot mama,'' he tells you, and the new nickname has your cheeks heating up. And after exchanging a few more sweet nothings between you, you fall asleep in your future husband's arms.

You could not have wished for a better ending to this perfect day, and now all that's left to do is to wait for your little one to come into this world. But one thing is certain: River will be the perfect addition to your family.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 8

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Entrusted with an undercover mission for Crown, Roger and I headed to a village in the countryside.

We were about to unveil the true identity of the Spirit God who claimed to hold great power when— 

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

Spirit God: A…doctor? Lies. You’re just saying that to take my place…

Roger: …Shut it.

Roger cut the man’s ranting with a sharp yell.

Spirit God: …

Roger: While you’re so busy ranting, this little girl’s gonna…die.

The anger in his eyes gave me chills.

(That murderous intent is…incredible)

(...Ah, I see now. Roger’s furious)

(I’ve never seen Roger’s emotions be…laid so bare)

Child’s mom: ……her. Please just save her…!

A powerful cry shook the air.

Holding her dying daughter in her arms, the woman looked at Roger with pleading eyes.

—The man called the Spirit God had his hands bound with rope, and the villagers kept watch over him.

We were given a room where we started working on refining a treatment for tetanus.

Liam: Roger, I brought the drugs you asked for from the storehouse!

Roger: Perfect, thanks. We gotta get the lil’ girl comfortable. Hurry.

Kate: On it!

Roger removed his vest and started looking over the medicine collected.

(There’s not much I can do, but I want to help in any way I can)

Kate: I’ll sterilize the test tubes. You can use carbolic acid, right?

Roger: …O_O

(Huh? Was I wrong about carbolic acid…?)

Kate: Um…Roger?

Roger: I thought you were getting up to something at night. Turns out you were studying medicine.

A large hand ruffled my hair.

Kate: …

I felt like Ale receiving pets.

Despite that…I felt my heart beat a little faster.

Roger: You’ve saved me the trouble. Thanks, Kate.

Kate: No…it’s just some knowledge I crammed in my head. You’re still going to have to guide me.

Roger: Then I’m gonna make you do a lot of work.

(Why am I so happy…to receive praise from Roger?)

Somehow, my heart was beating differently than usual.

(No, no. Knowledge is a part of strength. I was just happy that I got a little stronger)

(...but)

—After selecting some drugs and running tests, a tetanus treatment was refined.

Roger: Alright…now we just need to run clinical trials and then we can give it to people.

(Doing clinical trials means…)

Kate: You’re going to test it on healthy bodies to study the effects.

Roger: That’s right. This time it’s to see if it’s safe to take.

Liam: I’ll do it, Roger. I’m healthy, but if anything happens, it’ll just be to me.

Liam raised his hand first and Roger gave a wry smile.

Roger: Liam. You think I’d just let you give in to your “bad habits”?

Liam: Ah…

Curiosity—that was Liam’s curse.

Roger: Too bad for you. I’m feeling thirsty.

With that said, Roger took the bottle of medicine in one gulp.

Kate and Liam: Eh!

After being stunned by Roger’s bold move, I came back to my senses.

Kate: Roger, what are we going to do if something happens to you!

Roger: It’s fine. My body’s stronger.

(Is it really okay…?)

I was feeling both confidence and doubt toward Roger.

But the man himself…

Roger: We’re gonna have to wait a bit for it to take effect. I’m gonna take a nap. Kate, wake me up in an hour.

With that said, he crashed on a bed— 

Kate: Huh, Roger?

Within a few seconds, he started snoring.

Kate: He…fell asleep…?

I blinked at how fast he fell asleep and Liam laughed.

Liam: Hehe, you couldn’t kill him if you tried. I’m going to check on the villagers. Kate, I’m leaving Roger in your care.

The door closed, leaving Roger and me in the room.

When I sat on the edge of the bed, Roger’s hand fell from his chest onto my lap.

(He’s really asleep…)

His gloved hand was large and bony.

I gently touched his fingers which laid vulnerable on my lap.

(This hand’s killed before)

(And it’s kept many people alive) 

The way Roger’s living, it's like he holds life and death in his hands—a terrible contradiction.

There’s no way a man as smart as him didn’t see that.

He’s an egoist with a rifle as if carrying the sin of killing, claimed to be a former doctor, and lived in darkness.

(...Roger, what are you trying to do with Crown?)

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: What are you researching, Roger?

Roger: Cursed Ones—and how to rid the word of them.

~~ End flashback ~~

(Did he perhaps mean—)

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts.

(...No, let’s not jump to conclusions)

No matter how much I thought about it, I’d never reach the truth about Roger.

(At least, not with the way I am now…)

--

Roger woke up without any issues.

The tetanus drug was given to the infected girl and the villagers watched— 

The girl woke up just as the sun rose.

Roger: …Pulse is normal, no numbness in her limbs. Looks like the medicine did its job.

(Thank goodness…!)

Mother’s child: Thank you so much. You’re a god.

Roger: …Me, a god? Don’t make me laugh. I’m just an ordinary human as you can see. If I were a god, I would’ve rid the world of all its absurdities.

(...Roger?)

Cold eyes betrayed the warmth in his words.

But then  it disappeared in an instant.

In its place was a cynical smile.

Roger: Humans can’t become gods, no matter how hard they try. That’ what makes them so interesting.

Spirit God: …Argh, shut up!

A yell interrupted the peace in the room and we all turned toward the source.

Kate: Huh, Spirit God?! I thought he was captured and kept under watch…

The sudden appearance of the Spirit God confused the villagers.

Man of the village: When did you get free?! Everyone, run.

The Spirit God, who seemed to have escaped on his own, had an ominous smile on his face as the room fell into chaos…

(He’s coming this way…)

I tried to run, but he jumped at me from behind.

Kate: Eek…!

Roger: Kate.

Roger, who was standing by the girl, tried to reach for me, but it was too late. I was captured by the Spirit God.

Liam: Kate…

Roger: …

Spirit God: If you don’t want this woman to be killed, forget everything you saw in this village! That way, I can live as a god again.

(What a mess…Still, he’s surprisingly strong.)

(...What do I do)

His arms wrapped around my neck, cutting off air.

In my desperation, I looked up and met Roger’s gaze.

Roger: …

While everyone else turned pale, Roger was the only one smiling.

(...Huh? Why are you smiling…at a time like this?)

“You’ll get stronger, right”—the amber color happily threw at me.

(T-this guy…!)

(But…)

It’s better to be amusement than to be looked down on for being useless.

(Calm down…and remember what you learned about self-defense from Roger)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Step two, what to do when someone holds you.

Kate: Hey, wait. What should I do?

Roger: Hey, I told you that trying to force your way out’s gonna make it worse.

First, go limp, like a puppet that just got its strings cut.

~~ End flashback ~~

I calmed my mind and released all tension from my body as I exhaled.

Spirit God: …What the, you got heavy all of a sudden.

(Now.)

While the Spirit God was confused, I pushed his arms up from below.

Roger: Well done, Kate. Now keep leaning forward.

The moment I escaped the Spirit God’s hold, Roger took over.

Kate: …!

A powerful jab in the jaw knocked the Spirit God unconscious.

(His eyes rolled back. He’s completely out…)

Kate: A one-hit K.O…What’s with that brute strength?

Roger: I didn’t tell you? I’m a heavyweight boxing champ.

Wow…

Really?

You’re one heck of a guy +4 +4

Kate: Hmm… Wait! You’re just casually mentioning that you’re a heavyweight boxing champ?!

Roger: Haha, amazing, aren’t I?

(He’s not joking. He really is one heck of a guy…)

I would’ve loved to spend an hour or so asking him about boxing, but I had something else on my mind.

Kate: He’s not dead is he…?

I checked the Spirit God for a pulse.

Kate: Ah, he’s breathing…

Liam: He’s breathing, but won’t wake up for a while. Well, it’s for the best.

(He’s not dead, which is good for now…)

No matter how evil a person was, seeing them die before your eyes left a bad taste in your mouth.

Blonde child: …Mr. Glasses.

The girl seemed well enough to get out of bed and approached Roger.

Roger: Hm, what is it? Does it hurt anywhere?)

Blonde child: No. Um…Thank you…For making the pain go away. And…thank you miss and Mr. Pink…

Kate: I’m glad you’re feeling better.

Liam: Mr. Pink. How cute.

Roger: You’re welcome. This is the best reward I’ve gotten.

--

After waking up, the Spirit God admitted to all his crimes and was sent to the police.

Victor arrived later and told us that the village, which had closed itself to the public, would now open up with financial support from Her Majesty.

As for me—

After parting ways with Victor, who stayed to clean up the mess, and Liam, who volunteered to accompany him, Roger and I boarded the train back to London.

From outside the window, twilight dyed the sky.

Roger: Pfft, haha.

Roger, who sat across from me, suddenly burst into laughter.

Roger: The look on that guy’s face when you slipped out of his arms was a masterpiece.

(Thinking about it…)

A smile formed on my lips as I recalled the Spirit God’s dumbfounded expression.

Kate: Heh, hehe… Wait, why am I laughing. I thought I was about to die.

I glared at Roger, but he just smiled and propped himself up against the windowsill. 

Roger: Sorry, sorry. But the way you handled self-defense techniques honestly had me impressed. Not to mention you secretly studying medicine. So Kate, close your eyes.

Kate: …Don’t do anything weird, okay?

I closed my eyes after that warning.

…Then, I felt fingers touching my neck.

(Lace? It feels like a thin tie…but it’s nice to the touch)

Roger: You can open your eyes now.

Kate: …

I slowly opened my eyes.

Roger: …

Through the reflection of his amber eyes, I saw myself wearing a lovely choker.

Kate: This is…

Roger: A collar of course. You’ve now been promoted from dogsbody to pet. Congrats.

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (3)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Obnoxious coworkers, what is the proper ettiquette when emailing princes, teasing Captain

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The meeting was as boring as the fallen prince expected it to be, but he hardly showed his disdain for his time being wasted. Cabinet meetings and audiences with nobility and dignitaries were expected and mandatory for royals. In his opinion, a majority of them were hardly worth the time and could be easily sorted out with logic, but politics hardly worked that way. It was fickle, changing at the whim of whomever is more powerful. And though at times it was fun to see how the spoiled nobles would squabble over the most ridiculous things, the majority of it was always dull.

To think I once found such a thing mesmerizing as a young boy, wanting to follow my father everywhere and prove myself useful to him. A moment to shine, to step out of the immense shadow casted by my brother. The corners of his lips tugged downwards at the miasma of memories that began to stir. He knew the ledge was a precarious one and a single thought could have him plummeting to the depths and ensnare him.

“Do you have any questions?” The agent looked at the members of the group one by one, hesitating and nearly jumping over Loki to avoid eye contact.

“Agent Pruyn, was it?” He watched the man who was addressing them flinch at the call of his name. “Would it not be wiser for me to be the one who distracts them? I am able to change my image to look like anyone. I would merely need some footage of the person I am to imitate to better play the role. You will also be able to monitor my movements since I will be in the banquet hall as opposed to behind the scenes searching through the office.” Minimal footage of me in questionable places is best. Who knows what someone might do as an act of vengeance. 

“No, this is the best plan of action. Hawkeye is better suited for that portion of the mission and needs support while Black Widow distracts the target.” Agent Pruyn cleared his throat. The lack of negative reaction from the others seemed to embolden him a little bit. “Also, are you implying that she can't handle it? Black Widow is the best undercover agent we have. She's successfully infiltrated hundreds of places while you've only failed at discretion.” He scoffed. 

There it was. The bias and condescending tone, the twisting of his words, and the lack of support. Such insolence made his blood boil to the point of physically punishing the fool, but he kept his reactions in check with a blank expression. Silently, he changed the way they perceived him to look identical to the infamous fiery haired operative who was sitting with them. Everyone in the room stared at him in wide eyed shock, looking at him and her to see if there was a difference. 

“Well isn't that a neat little trick.” Natasha was the first to break the silence. “Certainly beats needing to put on that holographic skin.” She leaned in closer, trying to find some flaw.

“Stare all you like, you won’t be able to tell the difference unless I let you.” He said in her voice.

“If he’s so good at keeping up an appearance, why not just swap them? Nat and I are equally able to get in and out without issues if there’s a good enough diversion.” Clint shrugged, though he was impressed at how perfectly Loki copied her.

“I don’t have an issue with that change, I’m the one who can break into the computer system they have. It’s better if I’m with Clint.” Natasha agreed, Loki shifting back to himself.

“So, we’re in agreement. I will be the one to keep the group busy and the both of you will gather the necessary information. As I stated, I’ll require footage and data on the individual I’ll be impersonating.” He turned his attention back to Agent Pruyn who seemed rather cross with the change to his plan but said nothing since the other two Avengers were agreeing with Loki.

“We’ll need to adjust the timeline of the operation then. Everything was set up for this plan, we’ll need to adjust and see if there’s another gathering we can infiltrate.” 

“You say this person of interest has possible ties to this Hydra organization, correct? Why don’t we get ourselves invited to his home or wherever you think he is housing the necessary information? Why must we wait for some large gathering outside somewhere else?” Loki questioned. 

“We can’t just waltz into his home unannounced.” Agent Pruyn scoffed. “Do you think he just calls people over for tea time? This isn’t one of your royal games, Loki.” The condescending tone was back once more with a sense of triumph. This was hardly enough to anger the prince, but he was not so lenient to let it slide for a second time.

“Who said anything about tea?” He looked at the agent with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware you had the time for such frivolous plans. I must disappoint you, my plans do not allot time for such.” Agent Pruyn grit his teeth and glared at the insouciant attitude the Asgardian was speaking with to him. A few of the other members of the meeting snickered at the calm retort, looking away to avoid the ire of the presenter. “This target has questionable connections and has a proclivity to feign a charitable appearance through auctions. We need to approach him as someone equally shady who wishes to either wash their hands of some item or trade an item to someone else and obtain the money under the guise of donating to said charity. We simply need to choose someone from his connections or create someone completely new.”

“That,” Natasha was the first to speak, coincidentally cutting Pruyn off, “is an excellent idea. If we came as someone new, trying to make a name for themself, they’ll be more likely to accept us if we come with an item of great value. Loki can play the part of the client and I can easily play the part of his assistant as needed to keep up the facade. Once we’re invited in, I can get Clint inside and we can get the information we need while the auction is going on.”

“Until the auction takes place, we can build a relationship with him and others. We can record all the conversations and pick up on any codes they use to discuss the secret dealings!” A female agent chimed in soon after, realizing an extra benefit to this plan.

“This makes it a much longer plan than anticipated though, we’ll have to resubmit the plan to our lead agent and to Director Fury.” A male agent pointed out.

“Sounds like it’s a necessary delay if it’s going to be more fruitful than the original operation. I guess Thor wasn’t exaggerating when he boasted about how strategic you are.” Clint slightly nodded his head in approval. “Redraft the plan and submit it, we’ll see what Fury says before moving forward.”

“We’ll schedule our next meeting after that.” Natasha nodded, standing from her seat. The others followed her actions and the meeting came to an end with a very irate Pruyn glaring at the back of Loki’s head. A small smirk of satisfaction tugged at the Asgardians lips as he walked down the halls, feeling lighter at proving himself as worthy to be on the team.

Y/N stared at the screen of her computer, willing it to fill the empty body of the email that was addressed to the two Avengers she was allowed to work with. Glancing at the time, she groaned audibly and turned her chair around so her back was to the screen.

Three hours, I’ve been staring at this blasted computer screen for three hours! Why do I need to message them!? Wasn’t Agent Hill supposed to coordinate this? Why is everything suddenly dumped on me from start to finish? This is ridiculous! Next they’ll want me to manage their schedules and make sure they have time to complete their missions and assist in my never ending task! I am not some over glorified secretary, I am the head of the Resource Management department, the director of it! I attend all the ridiculous morning meetings, check-ins, and any other waste of time meeting that could have easily been an email instead while managing all centers that contain our resources, digital and physical! She pushed herself out of the chair and paced in the space she had behind the desk. “When am I supposed to even meet with them when both are due to be deployed this week!” She threw her hands in the air as she shouted into the empty office. Defeated, she slumped back into her seat and turned to face the computer once more. 

She did not want to wait until their return, she needed it done now so that while they were gone she could have the computers and scanners set up and be ready to start as soon as they returned. Straightening up her posture, she pulled the keyboard forward and quickly began to type a brief email stating she was approached by Agent Hill and wanted to set up a short meeting in person to introduce herself and better understand how to properly utilize their assistance and time. She also added that the both of them are available tomorrow after lunch for a brief period of time. Rereading her email over and over again, she made sure there was no error before finally hitting the send. Now she had to wait for a response. Thankfully, the chime signaling the door opening was a great distraction, letting her escape the panic while waiting for a response.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” She happily greeted the person as she stepped out of her office. “Oh, Captain Rogers, how are you?”

“Good afternoon Y/N, I’m doing well. How are you doing?” He smiled, giving her a slight nod.

“Could do with less work, but that’s not going to change anytime soon.” She tiredly chuckled.

“I don’t know how you handle your work at all. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a fourth of what’s here. They’ve got the right gal for the job here.” He patted her on the back. “Which is an expertise I’ll be needing at the moment. I’ll be going out on a mission with Thor and Tony to a fairly remote area with indigenous people. Thor will be a great asset with his AllSpeak, but I’d like to get some insight on the culture.”

“Oh, so no “An American Girl” books this time around? Or  the “Hardy Boys”?” She curled her lips inward to keep from laughing as she watched the famous Captain America clear his throat and turn away to hide the hints of a blush that were creeping up onto his cheeks.

“No, not this time. But maybe when I come back you can suggest something for me to read?”

“I would love to, I’ll think up a small list and let you see which you’d like to start with. So, back to your mission, where are you going and do you know the group you’ll be interacting with?” She clapped and rubbed her hands together, eager to be of assistance. “Let’s head to the front desk while you tell me so I can pull up what we have for you.” Nodding his head, he delved into the details of the mission that were necessary, Y/N never asking for more information than necessary as she pulled up anything relevant and jotted it down on a sheet of paper. “Ok, follow me!” She walked back around just as the chime signaled someone else coming in. “Good afternoon, if you need my assistance I will be with you shortly. Please wait at the desk.” She turned to smile at the newcomer only to see the raven haired prince. Oh, good thing I put the book on the table already. “Follow me, Captain Rogers.”

“Y/N, you can just call me Steve. I think we’ve known each other long enough to drop formalities.”

“Captain Rogers, so bold and scandalous!” She gasped. “What would your fangirls think?!”

“Please don’t remind me of those.” He sighed heavily and gave her a stern look. “And I insist you call me Steve, we’re friends.” He flashed her that famous hero smile.

“Alright, alright, Steve it is.” She turned into an aisle and began to skim the codes, pulling out books which were taken from her by the gentleman super soldier beside her. Once everything was pulled, the two went to the nearest table.

“This is great, thank you, Y/N.”

“Anytime Capt-,” she stopped at the pointed look he gave her. “Steve. If you need anything, just give a holler. I’ll come help you.”

“We’re in the library, I don’t think hollering is a good idea.” He chuckled.

“Who’s going to stop us, the librarian? Oh wait, that’s me!” She grinned, earning an eye roll from him before he turned his attention to the books he had as she made her way back to the front desk.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss@softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl@rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @kats72 @jainaeatsstars @mssjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki

[mezzy-1]

Hii🤍 Hope you’re having a amazing day!!

Can you do jealousy with Iso please??(can be headcanons or fic)

Thankss💕

Withering Lilac

First time I've really been asked to write something more conflict heavy, and I was ecstatic to add in some angsty Iso. Hope you enjoy the fic/headcanons for Iso being jealous around the reader!

You and Iso hadn’t met before Valorant picked both of you for the protocol.  When you did meet, it was like oil and water

Iso was cool, reserved.  You had a habit of trying to make friends wherever you went.  It was like that for a while until Iso finally let his guard down

Hanging out with the other agents was what finally got him to open up.  Eventually you and him even spent some time together as friends, just on occasion though

Unknown to you, you had left quite an impression on Iso

A few days later, some of the younger agents had gathered for a night out.  Seeing as they could go anywhere, they settled on Barcelona

Clubbing, drinking, and a few minor felonies wrapped up a night of shot fueled fun, and you had began making your way to the hostel with Phoenix and Iso

“Hey, Y/N!” Phoenix leaned off of a street light along the path.  “You ever think about dating?”

Iso halted before you did

“Are you proposing we go on a date Jamie?  I’m open to it, but I’ll need to warm up to it.”

“Well…” he leaned forwards, “How’s this for warm.” he giggled drunkenly

He pulled up his shirt to reveal his abs, running flames over them before flexing his biceps

You moved closer and raised an eyebrow and let the anticipation build

“That was the worst pickup attempt I have ever heard.  You really are drunk!” you laughed with Phoenix.  It was harmless flirting and at most, an attempt that failed

“You’re cute Y/N.  Don’t forget it, yeah?”

“Remind me if I forget Jamie.”

Iso kept quiet, pretending not to notice while a knot tied itself in his stomach

“Why am I feeling like this?  It’s only Phoenix and Y/N flirting a bit.  I know I don’t care, I’ve never cared before so why start?”

The morning brought with it a nasty hangover and more questions than answers, but you had no time for that as you returned to the protocol

While packing, Iso came in to check up on you

“Y/N, you want any help?” he asked.  You shook your head and he rested by the door

“Hey, do you remember walking home with me and Phoenix last night?”

“Uhh…” the memory was hazy, “Sort of.  He said something stupid and we all laughed about it like usual.”

Iso cocked his head, then began to pack his own room up

“They don’t remember, but could they just be saying that?” he muttered to himself

The next couple of weeks Iso put more and more distance between you and Phoenix.  It was subtle, just declining a few events or leaving sooner

You just assumed he had other things.  He mainly just stayed away and cleaned his arsenal while repeating to himself he wasn’t feeling discarded

One day you and him were returning from a mission in Lima, and stopped for food in the Barrio Chino district.  You and him got to gossiping about the other agents 

“I will say, Omen has changed a lot in my eyes from what I expected him to be.  I thought he was without remorse, but I see him try to fit in all the time despite his past.”  Iso’s fondness for Omen was unmistakable when he spoke of him

“He’s been through a lot.  Oh!  Did you see he knitted another hat for Killjoy!  Like it’s way too wide.”

“He made Raze a scarf that was huge too.  The pink, white and orange one.  Phoenix said it looked like she got it at the ‘long bacon store.’  Bad joke, but that’s Phoenix.”  

Iso seemed to stare for a bit before coming back to the conversation

“Did I tell you that Brimstone is having him and I do some undercover work together.  We’re gonna go to New York for a bit and do some investigation!  I’m so excited.”

That knot buried in Iso strained against him, and tore at his inner calm.  Inside he was wincing at a pain he couldn’t understand

“That sounds wonderful Y/N.  How long have you been hanging out together?”

“Phoenix was the first guy to really make me feel accepted at the protocol.  We’ve been close since the first day I was there.”

When the food arrived, the conversation slowed down.  By the time you were flying back to the HQ, the air was practically dead between you and Iso

Before you left for the mission with Phoenix, you had to deal with a spike attack in Sunset

“Iso, wait for Phoenix and I!” you cried over the radio.  He had decided to take on a squad by himself

“I don't want your help or his.” he spat back

When you arrived, he had his back turned to you and was surrounded by bodies.  You went to confront him but he brushed past you, purple hexagons shielding him

About a week later, you had enough of him ignoring you and keeping his distance from everyone and went to his room

Neon lights and charms decorated an otherwise neat room.  Guns stored in racks hung from walls like art installations, and Iso sat at a chair across from you cleaning one

“Why are you here Y/N?”  Iso’s glare felt like an insurmountable fortress

“Because you’ve been acting weird.  You were always quiet but now it’s like you hate being around me!”

“Maybe I do.”

“What did I do?”  You asked desperately.  Iso tried to dismiss it but you drilled until you hit something

“Forget this I’ve got a mission to prep for with Phoenix.”  

Iso flinched

“What you got a problem with Phoenix now too?”

“And if I do?”

“Then it makes you petty and jealous.”

Iso froze.  Suddenly a rush of feelings was untied and lashed out inside of him.  He understood clearly what he had been feeling

“You don’t think I want to be close to you too?  Phoenix can just show up and you start smiling, laughing.  I feel like I wasn’t enough to be with you!”

“Is this about something more than being friends?  You know I like being around you, well I did and then you ended up pulling away.”

“I should have thought about that, Y/N… I- I just couldn’t see that.” 

“Apologize, now.”

“I’m sorry,” he paused to look into your eyes, “I was jealous of him, and wasn’t thinking clearly.  I want to be closer than friends Y/N.” 

“Wait,” you had already registered the apology but the confession took you off guard

“Y/N, I’d like to make it up to you.  Whatever you name, it’s yours and I’ll never do this again.”

You sat in silence, Iso beginning to resign himself to the mistake he had made.  In the end, you forgave him knowing he’d keep his word

“I’ll accept your apology, but I didn’t know you were interested in me.  Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to, and that it would make it awkward around everyone.  Not that what I did was any better…”

“True, but now that you know Phoenix and I aren’t a couple, what’s stopping you?  I know now so I’m kind of expecting you to ask me out.”

“You’d still consider it after all I’ve done?”

“Iso, you said you’d do anything.  Take me out then.”

“If it’s what you want Y/N, I can have dinner ready tonight.”

“It’s a date, but don’t you ever start feeling jealous like that again.  For both of us.”

[preciouslandmermaid]

cold heart, warm hands (simon “ghost” riley x f!reader) - part 1/2 

First off, I haven’t played a Call of Duty game in years. But, I remember crushing on Ghost back in idk?? 2010? Anyway, glad to see he’s getting the white boy of the month treatment. Glad we’re all totally NORMAL about him. Feedback is definitely encouraged and appreciated :) 

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader!Assassin  

Rating: Mature/Explicit (18+)

Fic warnings: angst, injury/bodily harm to reader + some hypothermia, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing/explicit language, knives as metaphors for sexual tension, reader is lowkey feral (I am channeling my inner Princess Monoke), slowburn, the inherent eroticism of catching feelings while running for your life, touchstarved!ghost, bonding, (there will be smut/porn in part 2) i needed a light plot because I cannot function without it, all the names of politicians are fake/do not relate to any living or deceased person.

No use of Y/N. Reader is described as muscular/toned with scars from active combat/torture, though no other descriptors are used. Author isn’t well-versed in other languages, they’re just a sucker for Slavic mythology. Reader’s undercover code-name is “volchitsa” which translates to she-wolf (or bitch-wolf) in Russian. 

Summary: Lt. Ghost is tasked with the extreme mission to extract code name “volchista” from her undercover mission in St. Petersburg. They briefed him on what little they knew of you, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reality. 

READ ON AO3 || 🔪🔪🔪

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

This is how it begins. You are a girl made of snow. You carve a pretty smile from the ice. You flatter the diplomats. You trick them. They believe you can be melted and molded. You impress the headmistress of the school. You trick her, too. A man from America comes. They replace your ballet with ballistics. You suspect they offer money to your family, your school. They roll your tongue until you can call upon any accent and shape around any language. When you’ve impressed them or pleased them, they give you tasks, and you carry them out with little question of who at the top of the pyramid pulls the strings. You are better with bullets than you ever were at ballet. 

You thaw, in pieces, until the girl from the snow is a shadow, a puddle, a glistening drip of an icicle from the rooftop. They give you a name. A point of contact. A promise of extraction once intel is gathered. You don’t merely go “undercover.” You go underground. You enmesh yourself. They call you a wolf and release you among the pretty, bronze-polished sheep. After all, this is what your training was for. 

Only now it’s finally time to go home. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Three years undercover?” Ghost says, reviewing your file, “you sure we can trust her?” He glances at your old photo. Pretty thing. He suspects that’s why they assigned you to rub elbows with high-ranking military officials and defense contractors. Three years is a hell of a long time to be someone else. 

Price says, “I know you’ll make the right call if you think she’s compromised.”

“Naturally.” Ghost replies gruffly. He checks the intel for your rendezvous spot. A cemetery at the edge of the Vyborgsky District. At the stroke of midnight. How morosely dramatic. He’ll be a ghost in a graveyard. Is this Price’s attempt at humor? He considers asking Price why he’s not sending someone else out. Someone who shows their face in case some nosy do-gooder comes up asking questions. He shakes the thought from his head. It’s a stupid question that he already has the answer to. 

Price selected him because the target, codename volchista, is one of the most dangerous operatives in the country. If anyone can take you down–if things get nasty–it’s him. 

“You’ll be going in dark on this one until you reach the border,” says Price.

“Not a problem.”

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

It’s gray everywhere you look. Storm clouds loom over St. Petersburg and block the starlight. Gray and dark gray tombstones. The barren trees appear like black skeletons in the night, like echoes of lightning. Your breath mists gray in front of your lips. A family of gray moths dance around the ground-level lamps. The air tastes like impending snowfall, brisk and sharp on your tongue. 

You check your watch. Three minutes until midnight. There is no one here but you. You are alone, with the gray ghosts, and the gray tombstones, and your gray, foggy breath. 

The hair at the nape of your neck prickles. 

Your knife flashes silver in the gray. Your blood roars in your ears. And you pivot like a dancer, like an acrobat, lethal and light on your feet. The resounding clang of your knife meeting another reverberates through the silent, empty cemetery. You lurch your body forward. You assume your cover is blown and they’ve sent this masked man to kill you. He matches your momentum and avoids your strike. You snarl. He is big but not as clumsy as you hoped. 

A gloved, strong hand grabs your wrist, “steady on, volchista.” Their accent deepens their voice to a rough and pleasant burr. It’s like drinking whiskey. You stare at him. Only your contacts know your code name.

You say, “Lev sent you.” You pause. “You’re early.”

“If I'd known you’d try to skewer me, I’d have been punctual.” He slowly releases your wrist, though what little you can see of his gaze is dark and wary. Lev told you nothing beyond the meeting spot and where he stashed your equipment. It was safer (or so he said). He could’ve at least mentioned your point of contact would be wearing a costume so you wouldn’t assume it was an assassination attempt. Your eyes scan the graveyard, unable to shake the sense of paranoia that slithers around your spine. Whenever something felt too easy, you got anxious.  

“Sorry.” You respond without expression. “Let’s go.”

You’ve walked these pathways hundreds of times. You know them in the dark, you would know them blindfolded. None of Petrovich’s men bothered you when you went to the cemetery. Though, they were never far. You incline your head faintly toward the familiar tombstones, to the names you’ve memorized as a game to keep yourself sane during these past three years of espionage.

You shoot a glance over your shoulder. Skull-man is walking eerily quietly behind you despite the bulk of body armor you can tell he’s wearing beneath his white, camo coat. His hood is drawn up over his head. Probably to hide the mask. 

“What do I call you?” You ask once you’re close to the church.

“Ghost.”

You laugh softly. Although you will never see Lev again, you wish you could. You wanted to praise him for such a stupid, funny joke - setting up your extraction in a cemetery with a man named Ghost. You come to the church door where Lev has stashed your supplies. He’s left the key for you beneath a snow-capped rock. You kiss its cold, metal teeth in farewell before sliding it into the lock. The old, oak door creaks beneath your palm. 

Ghost watches your back, checking behind you before you both go inside. The air smells of incense and candle smoke. The effigies on the altar glow with ethereal, flickering light. You crouch onto the ground and start tapping your knuckles to find the hollow floorboard. Lev said it would be about ten paces from the entrance. 

Rap, rap, rap, rap. A flurry of snowflakes drifts across the mosaic, stained glass windows. You knew you tasted snow in the air. You idly wonder if the snow will feel different once you’re home again. You wonder if everything will be different considering the intel you gathered about Petrovich and all his followers. 

Ghost asks, “why’d they give you the name she-wolf?”

Your smile is a knife. 

You say while looking up at him; “I used to bite a lot during my training.”

Your knuckles find their treasured spot. You jam your knife into the edge of the floorboard, wiggling it, and it gives underneath your pressure. You tug on the backpack, holster your pistol and knife and hide your face in a scarf. You pull the rest of Ghosts' equipment out with a small gruff. The keys to the snowmobile parked in the shed outside bite into the soft flesh of your palm. You and Ghost will ride to the next point. And God willing, you’d make it over the border before anyone noticed you were gone. 

Ghost, silent beside you, stiffens.

“Shit.” You hiss. You duck sideways, throwing yourself into the space between the worship pews. Ghost crouches into the one next to yours. The door to the church swings open. There is a burst of cold air and snowflakes and bright, roaming flashlights. With your back pressed against the hardwood and knife in hand, you glance across the aisle to Ghost and wait for his lead. 

He signals the number three with his fingers. You nod. You track the lights as they move through the church, elongating shadows, and bouncing from the pews and pillars. Two have moved to the side of the church. A single target is walking down the main aisle. They’re trying to pincher you. Could it be Petrovich? Or were you betrayed internally? Or were they police officers? You hadn’t gotten a good look before hiding. Ghost’s entire body is taught like a loaded weapon. You feel it in your own spine and shoulders. The familiar, tense coiling. The single and narrow simplicity of setting a task and then completing it. You are going home. And nothing and no one will stop you. 

A voice calls out in Russian. “Petrovich is looking for you. It’s too late for prayer. It’s time to come home.” It sounds close to the doorway. You roll onto your stomach and signal to Ghost: ‘Enemy’. Perhaps it’s presumptuous to assume he doesn’t know Russian after being assigned to a Russian-Evac Mission. You make a mental note to ask him what he knows (if you both survive). He tells you to ambush right, then signals the go-ahead. 

You wiggle beneath the pews, getting behind your target, and crouch-walk toward him. You stay low and silent. From this vantage point, you can see they’re Petrovich’s bodyguards. They aren’t wearing tactical gear or body armor. They’ve got flashlights and pistols holstered at their hips. They aren’t expecting any sort of fight. You almost feel bad for them. Almost. 

You are a deadly viper hidden in the grass, a wolf stalking her prey, an arrow finding its mark. Your knuckles tighten around the grip of your knife. The church is dark, save for the flickering candlelight, and the blue-white shine of their flashlights. You slam your boot into the back of your target’s knee, causing him to crumple. He grunts, in surprise and pain, and that is the last sound he creates because your knife lodges into his carotid artery. A warm gush of blood covers your glove, and it arcs upward, splattering and spraying onto the fine stonework when you dislodge the weapon. You kick the rolling flashlight aside and run on quick, crouched feet toward the door. You don’t even bother to check if Ghost is alright. You assume he is. If not…well…you’ll claw your way out of Russia yourself. There is no returning to this place. 

The man at the doorway is panicking. He wildly waves his flashlight around the church while holding his cellphone to his ear. You snatch his wrist in a bruising grip and drag him toward you. He shouts. Your forehead smashes into his nose. His cellphone clatters to the ground. Your knife finds purchase through the thick fabric of his turtleneck. The gray sweater blooms deep, dark crimson–nearly black in the low light. He moans, you shove him aside and pick up his phone. He’s calling Petrovich, but the line hasn’t connected yet.

Ghost is suddenly before you. You meet his eyes. There’s a splatter of blood on his white camo hood. Your chest heaves with exertion, and the adrenaline of combat floods your senses until you are woven within it. If you don’t shake off Petrovich, then your extraction becomes thousand times more difficult. 

You grab the bodyguard by the root of his hair, jerking his head back, and snarl into his face. “Tell Petrovich you’ve found me. Tell him I’m coming home.” You say in Russian.

“Traitor.” He spits blood at you. You haven’t removed your knife from the juncture of his shoulder and neck. You twist the blade a little. He grits his jaw from screaming. Prideful to the end. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the dark, hulking shape of Ghost with his knife in his hand. 

“Last chance.” You warn. “I will feed you to the wolves.”

“I am dead either way.” His eyes flick to Ghost behind you. “He will kill you.”

You are uncertain if he is talking about Ghost, Petrovich, or someone else. You don’t care to ask. You click the bright red ‘end’ button on the call screen before it connects. Wordlessly, coldly, you yank your knife from his shoulder and spear him below his jaw. A torrent of blood gushes over his sweater, and your wrist and hand, and onto the shiny wood. He slumps, on his knees like a man in prayer, and you shut your eyes briefly. You take no pleasure in the killing. It was either them or you. Wolf versus sheep. It was survival. A singular question tightened around your neck like a noose. Who betrayed you?

Ghosts’ voice is low from somewhere over your shoulder. “What’d he say?” 

“That I’m a dead woman.”

He shrugs his massive, bulky shoulders. You can’t ascertain how much of it is him and how much is his gear. 

You sheath your knife. “Petrovich will come looking for me.” You nudge the fallen bodyguard with your boot. “No use hiding them. We need to leave. Now.”

He extends his hand, “keys.”

“Who said you were driving?” You scoff.

“I’m the one taking point.” He says. “You’re the escort. I drive.”

You drop the keys into his waiting palm. You simply don’t have the time to argue.

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

You get an impression of his true size when you’re perched behind him on the snowmobile. Your arms encircle him (as best you can), your cheek is pressed against his broad and muscled back, and the cold wind cuts through your scarf and bites your ears and nose. It’s dangerous to drive in the dark, but you have no choice. No alternative. You must take a risk with the dark forest full of birch trees and lonely pines to avoid the checkpoints at the borders. 

Ghost is, at the very least, efficient. Your stomach swoops each time the snowmobile crests over a small hill and the vibration of the motor purrs beneath your legs. The world is a blur of grayish-white. Snowflakes and branches whip past your field of vision. You force your eyes to remain open, as snowflakes crystalize on your eyelashes, and try to keep watch of your surroundings. 

You release a soft “oof,” when the snowmobile jolts over a hill and freshly fallen snow crashes over you and Ghost like a wave. The trees start to thin. Your fingers tingle inside your gloves from your lack of circulation due to how tightly you're holding onto him and the overall icy chill in the air. You suspect you’re about an hour from the second point. Possibly less, you hope, with how fast Ghost is driving. 

A whirring sound, like a beast waking from its slumber, rises above the rushing wind. You twist your spine to look behind you.

You yell above the engine and the wind, “fuck me.” Above the treetops, a helicopter is risking the storm, its searchlight roaming through the forest. Only one man is hunting you. Only one man is desperate enough to send a helicopter in the middle of the night with little visibility.

“Ghost! We’ve got company.” You shout.

“That was quick.”

The snowmobile banks with a hard left turn. You bury your face in his shoulder blades to protect yourself from the sharp wind. You recall the map Lev showed you. You memorized the route to the second point. Something tugged at the corner of your mind. The helicopter’s searchlight scanned the thick, snowy landscape. It will catch up to you soon. Ghost weaves through the trees, but they provide  little cover. 

It’s dark. It’s snowing. The helicopter is faster than you. These are the facts.

If you stop, you risk Petrivoch’s men finding you. He sent a helicopter; you have no doubt in your mind that he also sent out snowmobiles and ATVs. The darkness is your best cover. 

If you continue, you risk Petrivoch’s men finding the safe house. The only silver lining is that Petrovich doesn’t know who you work for. He doesn’t know you have help. He might assume you’ve been kidnapped. But, what if Petrovich thought you were dead? He wouldn’t chase after a dead woman. 

You say, “Ghost, I have an idea. But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

He grunts.

“We need to crash the snowmobile.”

“You’re mad.” Is it the wind filling your ears, or does he sound a little…impressed? 

You squeeze your fingers around your wrist when Ghost takes another sharp turn. You suspect he’s double-backing and confusing your trail while avoiding the oncoming helicopter. 

“My other plan involved a sniper rifle and blowing out the searchlight. However, seeing as we don’t have a sniper, I’m going to plan B.”

“Crashing our only means of transportation sounds more like Plan-fucking-Z to me.”

“You have a better idea?!” You snap.

You continue, impassioned, “the storm will cover our tracks. We can walk the rest of the way. Petrivoch’s men won’t follow us if they think I’m dead.”

He mutters something under his breath. It’s too quiet for you to hear. 

“Find a good place to stop with tree coverage and I’ll do the rest.”

“Jesus.” He grumbles. 

You wait for the inevitable argument. The discussion about how the snowmobile could outrun the helicopter and whoever else might be pursuing you. You brace yourself, drawing counterarguments inside your head, preparing yourself as you have your whole life. The pine trees thicken, and the snowmobile gradually slows. His back is tense. You wiggle your tingly fingers inside your gloves. You slide your arms away from his solid, firm midsection and scoot to the edge of the seat when the snowmobile finally stops. 

Ghost twists around, looking at you, his eyes fathomless beneath the mask.

“Your plan. What is it?”

You tell him. It involves tipping over (or crashing) the snowmobile, lighting it on fire, ripping pieces of your clothing and burning other remnants to imply that whatever was left was eaten by wildlife.

You peel off your bloodied gloves, “it’s not a perfect plan.”

“It’s bloody insane is what it is.”

You shrug, “and yet you agreed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the picture of mental stability, now am I?” He tears one of your shirts between his hands. You work quickly and silently in tandem. The helicopter is searching the less forested areas. It’s loud enough to hear, though you can’t see it or its spotlight through the thick evergreens. You tie together several pieces of fabric and shove them into the gas tank. After it detonates, although the helicopter won’t be able to land nearby, Petrivoch’s men will likely find the remains before dawn. 

You reach under your shirt, toward your collar, and your fingers encircle the charm on your necklace. You tug. The thin golden chain snaps. It was your first gift from Petrovich. A symbol of your loyalty - false as it was. You hold it aloft and the tiny eagle charm glitters above the flickering flame of your lighter.

“I hope I am there the day they burn you.” You whisper with the trees, and the cold snow, and your silent Ghostly companion as your witness. You drop the broken necklace. You light the edge of the fabric. The smoke singes your nostrils and your eyes water. You run toward the trees and don’t look back.

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

You and Ghost put as much distance between yourself and the snowmobile before its explosion. Your muscles strain, your skin glistens with sweat, and you are hot and stuffy beneath your warm clothes. The pace he sets is brutal. You push yourself to keep up, never complaining, though your mouth tastes of copper from how many times you’ve bitten your lower lip. The storm rages and covers your tracks. 

“The storm’s getting worse.” You say. You’ve never endured in silence for this long before. Not since your youth, you think. The howling wind cuts between you and him, dragging snowflakes in their wake. 

Ghost barely glances at you. “Hadn’t noticed.” 

If you squint, he blends into the world. A white-and-gray Grim Reaper here to collect your soul.

“Were you going to kill me in the church?” You ask. You remember how he approached you and the bodyguard. His cold lethality. The silence that shrouds him. His eyes were dark, too far to discern what emotion lay within. He doesn’t answer, but he does look over at you. You are mirrors of another. His face is covered by his strange, macabre mask. Your face is covered, in a heavy scarf, your eyes visible through the slit in the fabric. You speak through your eyes. Nonverbal. Expressive. Weighted.  

You tilt your head slightly to the side as if to say ‘well?’ 

You wonder if he smiles beneath the mask. You wonder if he smiles at all. He turns away and checks his compass. For several minutes only your crunching footsteps and the wind screaming through the branches keeps you company. You don’t think Ghost (and by proxy the US government has betrayed you) but you aren't certain. Not until you have some type of proof or motive. The only people who knew about your meeting location were Lev, yourself, and Ghost. You know you didn’t slip up. And you’ve been in this field for too long to chalk Petrivoch’s appearance to coincidence and dumb luck. Someone is compromised. 

You glance sidelong at Ghost through your snow-covered lashes. He’s big, he’s strong and efficient. You’re not a person who doubts their abilities and you’re not an idiot. You know a losing fight when you see one. In close-quarter combat, his reach is longer, and if he pins you then it’s over. If you plan to incapacitate him–it’ll need to be an ambush. It’ll need to be quick. You store the thought away for later. You’re not going to ambush him in the storm.  

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

The snowstorm starts to ease, and he’s forced to admit that your plan to torch the snowmobile might’ve saved them. There’s a chance that the weather made it impossible for the helicopter to keep pursuing. However, he won’t know until sunrise. Either he’ll have Petrivoch’s men on his ass or it’ll be smooth from the safe house to the border. He prepares himself for the worst. Petrovich isn’t a man who gives up easily. Price’s file on him was stacked. Although most of the intel you gathered undercover was on a need-to-know basis, he knew the man was powerful, controlling, and deranged. A dangerous cocktail. It gives him all the more reason to wonder if you’ve been broken and brainwashed by Petrovich. But the thought holds little water. Your behavior has been motivated by survival. You handled yourself with extreme grace and brutality in the church. Price said you were good. He didn’t realize you were that good. The takedown of your target was effortless and clean. A thing of beauty, really. You function well under pressure. And you smile often for a woman trained to be a covert assassin. You’re nothing like he expected. 

He announces, “we’ll take a break here.”

He watches you drink from your canteen. Your face glistens with sweat before you wrap yourself back up in your scarf and hat. You pack your canteen with snow and store it away, but he notices your hand flinch near your knife, the brief tenseness of your shoulders. He scans the darkness for threats. He meets your eyes with an unspoken question. 

Your breath fogs in front of your mouth, hazy, obscuring your gaze from his for a moment. When the mist passes, your eyes are cold and narrowed, and you look like you want to skin him alive.

“I didn’t give Lev everything.”

His brow furrows, “what’re you telling me for? I’m not your superior officer.”

Your gaze softens imperceptibly. 

“Someone ought to know in case Petrovich is still hunting me.”

“You don’t need to bargain your worth to me, she-wolf.” He says plainly. “I’ve got my orders.” He’s not sure what game you’re playing. And he doesn’t rightly care. Once you’re across the border, you’re someone else’s problem. Whatever intel you have, or don’t have, it doesn’t concern him. His only concern is making it out of this tundra with you alive. You adjust the straps on your backpack and nod, signaling with your hand that you’re ready to move.

The blue-black sky lightens, and stars fade from view. Tiny, blackbirds flit through the air. The terrain flattens. He recognizes this location from the map. The safe house is over the hill. It was a less straightforward route than if he had the snowmobile, but at least you’ve made it. He keeps checking your six–part of his job–and scanning the open sky for threats. The snow crunches underfoot.

He says, “we’re almost there. Come on.”  He jogs ahead. 

Something cracks under his foot. He spins, looking for you, and discovers you’re a few paces behind. Your arms and legs are spread akimbo and when you meet his eyes, there is controlled panic, and he can practically hear the gears turning within your mind.

“We’re on the lake.” You exclaim like it’s a brilliant revelation. “I remember seeing it on the map!” 

The storm must’ve covered it. Fucking hell!  

“There’s a USB in here.” You strip your backpack from your body and slide it easily across the hidden ice. “It’s more important than I am.”

Another crack reverberates beneath him. He’s hyper-aware of his size and the dangerous risk of getting wet at this temperature.

“What’re you doing?” He beckons with his hand while lowering his body, “this way!”

“Yeah, yeah, working on it.” You take a tentative step forward. Despite the logical distance, it feels like a chasm has split you from him. 

“You need to get low.” He’s on his stomach on the ice and the next crack vibrates beneath his gut. “Spread out your weight.”

You nod. You start to crouch, but lady luck isn’t on your side. The ice ruptures. The crash, your yelp of alarm, and the splash of cold water are like a pike driving through his eardrums. He army-crawls toward your flailing arms. Your gloves scramble for purchase on the flat, slick ice as your head disappears underwater. Ghost unintentionally shouts your name. 

He grabs you, pulling you up. You sputter and gasp, water saturating your scarf that’s peeled partially away from your face, and revealing your wild, stricken eyes. 

“I’ve got ya.” He says, “I’ve got you.”

You cling to him and kick your legs underwater while he lifts you out of the ice trap. Your shivering body crawls across the ice alongside him, though he tracks your sluggish movements and rapid breath. He needs to get you to shelter immediately. The second you’re clear of the lake, he crowds you into his arms and lifts you in a fireman's carry.

You protest weakly through chattering teeth, “I can walk.”

“This is faster.”

He trudges up the short, small hill while carrying you and both backpacks. The sight of the safe house is like fucking salvation. It’s a squat, modest little wooden cabin. He can spot a chimney sticking up from the roof. If it doesn’t have wood, then he’ll start burning furniture. He needs to get you warm before you drop into severe hypothermia. The cold wind cuts across the air like a cruel cosmic joke. Draped across his shoulders, he can practically feel your desperate, galloping heart against his back. 

“Stay awake.” He commands, voice brusque and sharp.

“Aye, sir.” You mumble.

“That doesn’t sound awake to me.”

“Fuck you.” You say this time, with more emphasis, more feeling.

He grumbles. “Atta girl.”

He shoves open the front door with his shoulder, kicking it closed, and deposits you in front of the cold, empty fireplace. You’re trembling worse than earlier, but you’re lucid. You tug your wet scarf off of your face and struggle to unlace your boots. Unfortunately, there are no logs beside the fireplace. He huffs. Plan B then. The cabin is a single, large room with the kitchen and sitting area sharing the space and a door that presumably leads to the bedroom or bathroom. 

Ghost grabs one of the wooden stools and uses his tactical knife to hack a small divot in the wood so he can snap it with his foot. He breaks the stool into pieces, shoves them into the mouth of the fireplace, and starts the fire with his emergency fire starter kit. He shoots a glance over his shoulder to you. You’ve managed to get your boots and socks off, though the rest of your clothing appears to be a challenge.

Ghost shoves your trembling hands out of the way. He yanks your zipper down.

“O-oy!” You shout with surprise and indignation.

He says, “arms.” 

You relax your shoulders, and he tugs the heavy coat off your body. Wordlessly, you lift your shaking arms, and he pulls the drenched mess of your sweater over your head. Your shirt and tank top comes next, then your sports bra, until you're naked from the waist up in front of him.

Your toned stomach muscles clench. A mapping of scars decorates your skin like battle trophies. If this was any other moment–he might’ve taken a second to appreciate the solidness of your form, the shape of your tits, the honed lethality of your biceps and forearms and stomach. There’s nothing waifish or delicate about you. You’re a weapon of flesh and muscle and hot blood. Your eyes focus on some spot behind him, and the firelight reflects and shifts in the depths of your dark pupils. 

You lift your hips and (with his help) drag your soaked pants and underwear off your body. He does not think about your thighs or your calves. He removes a blanket from his bag and drapes it across your legs. The key to overcoming hypothermia is gradually warming the body. He strips himself of everything but his mask and underwear and sits behind you–bracing his knees around your legs and caging you with his body heat. He shucks his gloves off and gently rubs his palms along your freezing arms. The fire crackles before you. The knobs of your spine and the curve of your shoulder blades press lightly into the planes of his naked, muscled chest. You’re weirdly quiet. 

“No cheeky comment?” says Ghost.

You blurt, “Lev’s the traitor.”

Ghost blinks. 

“Enlighten me.”

“You saved me, not the USB.”

“USB means fuck-all to me. I don’t want you dead, she-wolf.”

You laugh weakly. A full-body tremor wrecks through you. He can feel it across his entire chest and straight to his groin with how he’s got you melded into him. His hands slow. He can feel each individual ridge of the scars on your arms. He can feel the fine, thin hair along your forearms. Your wrist bones and knuckles are the only fine-boned, delicate piece of you that he can touch. He glances down at the sleek musculature of where your neck meets your shoulder. 

Unless he chops more furniture, the fire isn’t going to last long, but it should be enough to get you stable. That’s all that matters.

~~~~~~~

Between the fire raging in front of you and Ghosts’ solid heat at your back–your skin tingles as it regulates temperature and your circulation returns. Your eyes drink in the muscles of his thick thighs, braced on each side of you, and the peek you get of his black-and-white tattoo when his arms move. He hasn’t stopped touching you. His hands travel up and down your arms, to your wrists, and shoulders. How come you never noticed how big his hands were? A flush of warmth burns at the nape of your neck. You feel like you’re being surrounded by a large, jungle cat. And it’s tempting to close your eyes and melt into his warmth. You’re at the safe house. You’re almost home. It wouldn’t be so terrible to sleep, would it? Ghost would keep watch. He’d look out for you.

“Talk.” Ghost orders. “You’ve gotta stay awake.”

“About what?”

“I don’t care.” He huffs. His voice is warmer, as close as you are, and it drips like honey and vibrates across your back.

“I memorized names in the graveyard to keep sane.” You say, surprising yourself with the confession, your secret little game. “I can recite those.”

“Do it then.”

You stare into the flames until your eyes start to water and repeat their names. They were your first ghosts before you met this one. You numbly scratch at one of your scars. You repeat the names again. Ghost isn’t rubbing your arms, but he’s still touching you. His large, calloused palms have settled. One is on your hip, the other is clutching your shoulder and that arm squishes into your breasts. Your back is snug against the hard, muscled planes of his chest. He’s holding you?! You’re not sure why this realization comes as such a surprise. He’s sharing his body heat. There’s nothing tender or romantic about it. You’re his mission. Yet, this is the first time in three years that you’ve allowed non-transactional physical contact. Usually, if someone touched you, it was because they wanted something (or you were manipulating them to get what you wanted). Ghost’s motive isn’t ulterior. It’s transparent. He wants your continued survival. That’s it. 

“You got quiet again, she-wolf.” He says with a breathy edge to his tone. “Better not have fallen asleep on me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m awake.” 

To add to your point, you wiggle your toes beneath the blanket. At least, you no longer feel like an ice popsicle, but you selfishly want to stay here–in the warmth, muscled solidness of Ghosts’ body. You close your eyes momentarily and try to absorb this moment into the fibers of your being, your essence, and your bloodstream so you can remember it on the cold, lonely nights ahead. Ghost’s breathing deepens. You only notice because of the proximity of his ribs to yours. His thumb glides along the raised bumpy edge of a scar near the end of your clavicle bone.

You say slowly, “that one was from Petrovich.” 

If he wasn’t wearing the mask, you would feel his breath on your skin. His touch withdraws. He rests his palm on your forehead, checking your temperature before his hand glides below your jaw and registers your pulse with two fingers. Everything he’s doing is clinical and tied to survival. Yet, that doesn’t explain the slowness of his movements. It doesn’t explain why his touch lingers below your chin. Your pulse jolts and your breath hitches. His chest rumbles against your back in a low, deep hum. 

“We need to change our route.” You say with Ghost’s thumb and two forefingers loosely wrapped around your throat. “Lev betrayed me. And he knows my exit plan. We need to find an alternative to the border.”

Ghost says, “then we better move before we waste any more daylight.”

His hand recedes from your jaw, and you are bereft of its soft pressure and warmth. Ghost stands up. And you twist your spine, drawing the blanket over your chest, and allow yourself the very selfish and human privilege to see him half-naked. As expected, he’s a fucking massive specimen of virility. You bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his broad muscled chest, his strong biceps, veiny forearms, and capable hands, the cut of his v-line into his waistband, and the trail of dark hair that travels down from his belly button. Your eyebrows lift in surprise and appreciation. You don’t mind the mask hiding his face because his body is fucking spectacular.

He pulls his shirt over his head. You watch unashamedly at the play of muscles as they ripple across his chest and flex. The low-burning fire snaps loudly and sends a flurry of sparks up the chimney.

“Careful,” His eyes spark behind the mask, “you’ll drool on my nice blanket.” His tone brightens with gentle teasing. Somehow, the sound of his voice like that, deep and teasing, is hotter than the sight of his abs. 

You smirk. “See, I thought you were cute until you got cocky about it.”

He scoffs. “Cute?”

Ohh, you found a little nerve. How delicious. 

“Cute.” You affirm and say no more. You dig through your backpack and procure your last set of clothes. There’s no room for shyness or modesty in an active combat situation. Sure, no one is shooting at you. But that reality can change real fast. You shimmy your underwear and pants over your hips and quickly pull your bra over your head like the house is on fire. You feel Ghosts’ gaze on you. And it blazes like a hot brand across your skin. Forget the fire, the shared body heat, the blanket, all you need is a few seconds of Ghosts’ undivided attention, and you are burning up.

“Here, take this.” You underhand toss the USB to Ghost. He catches it effortlessly.

“Why?”

“In case you fail your mission, I don’t want to fail mine.” You open the closet door and pull a mothball, musty-smelling coat from the hanger. Your clothes drying in front of the fire need a few more hours before they’re wearable. Those are hours you don’t have.

“Lost faith in me already, have you?” says Ghost. 

It’s your turn to scoff. “Hardly.” You level him with a serious gaze, “I’m trusting you with it, Ghost.” 

He says, “Riley.”

“What?”

“My name. Simon Riley.”

Your heart stutters inside your chest. You weren’t expecting him to give you anything in return, let alone his name.

“Okay, Simon.” You smile tentatively, “let’s get the hell out of here, yeah?”

<Part Two>