#in my head that's why they initially come off as so cold in the cell arc

[magicalqueennightmare]

Governor's Ball

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When you initially turn down Rebekah's invite Elijah comes to your job to invite you to the Governor's ball as a guest of the Mikaelsons.

It wasn't the most glamorous job but working at the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment was good enough to pass the time between hunts and to integrate yourself into the community a tad bit more. It was also owned by your landlord and her wife so that was a plus.

You were crouched down in the storage room arranging shelves when Ronnie, one of the girls you worked with came to the door and called your name. When you glanced up she grinned “There's a good looking guy by the name of Mikaelson wanting to talk to you?” 

Good looking and Mikaelson? Hell that could be either of Rebekah's brothers. None of them were lacking in looks. You nodded as you stood up, straightening your clothes as you did so. You were betting on Kol considering he'd come in with Rebekah before (and now had your cell number and would text you the weirdest crap at all hours of the night) or maybe even Klaus considering after your first meeting instead of trying to kill you like you'd feared, the hybrid had instead realized making friends with your sister's friend was the easiest way to get your sister to listen to your side in some more minor arguments. 

—------------------

You hadn't expected, however, to walk around the corner to see Elijah standing near the counter. You glanced back at Ronnie and asked  “Cover the register for a few minutes?” “Take your time” she replied with a wink. 

You shook your head and walked over to where the vampire stood “Elijah” he smiled when you spoke his name and turned to face you “I was hoping we could talk” you waved your hand towards the door “Ronnie can cover me for a few, wanna talk a walk or sit outside?” The slight smile that he gave you made your heart flip. Damn, he would hear it speeding up. 

“I've drank a little too much coffee to sit still though” you added quickly hoping he'd believe caffeine as the reason for your elevated heartbeat. He nodded “Of course. Let's take a walk then, shall we?” 

You untied your apron and passed it to Ronnie. She tried to hide her smile when Elijah held the door open for you. “Have fun” she whispered to you and you cursed under your breath because you knew he'd heard her. 

—--------

You stepped into the warm sunlight and smiled briefly at the feeling. It was still the time of year where it was cool enough for a light jacket but not cold enough that your face hurt. You had always enjoyed the in-between seasons. Not too hot or too cold. 

You hadn't realized you'd been walking close to the street until Elijah put one hand on your shoulder and gently maneuvered you closer to the buildings the two of you were walking past so he was closer to any traffic. You cut your eyes at him and he simply said “Rebekah would never forgive me if let you get ran down by some moron” 

You nodded, taking his answer. After a moment you stopped walking and turned to face him. The two of you were close enough you could still see the signage of the coffee shop if you looked but far enough that no one was really passing by this time of day. “So you wanted to talk. What's so important to have you come looking for me, because honestly when Ronnie said a good looking guy by the name of Mikaelson I was expecting Kol or Klaus”

A smirk slipped onto his face “Are you implying my brothers are handsome and I'm not?” Your eyes widened and God when he laughed, it was a mixture of you wanting to find a hole to crawl into or wrap the sound around yourself like a soft blanket because dear lord the man the sound fell from his lips was intoxicating. Damn, why did you have it so bad for him? No, he was a vampire first and foremost and secondly he was your friend's brother. Double no no. 

You swallowed the attraction and instead brushed off his comment by saying “Elijah all you damn Mikaelsons are freaking gorgeous. You, Rebekah, Klaus, Kol…I mean I see why none of you have ever had a shortage of someone being willing to open a vein even without compelling”

—----------

The way his eyes shined when he looked at you, a smile playing at his lips made you force yourself to remember you were supposed to be at work. “Ok, all of you being hot aside, what did you need Elijah? I'm supposed to be working”  he nodded “Of course. Rebekah told us you turned down the invitation to join us at the Governor's ball” 

You nodded “For a multitude of reasons” “Which are?” He asked and you sighed. “For one, I'm legally dead. The reason I have an apartment and a job is because my landlord used to be a hunter and her wife is a witch” he shrugged “You would simply be added as either mine, Niklaus’ or Rebekah's plus one. No identification needed” 

You closed your eyes before admitting “I can't afford a dress Elijah” when you opened your eyes he smiled warmly “Why would that be an issue? Rebekah will take you shopping with her” you shook your head “I made friends with Rebekah because I simply like her. Vampire and hunter or not, we fit well together. I'm not around to be a leech on your family's money”

“I know this but I will personally take offense if you don't let us supply you with a dress and join us for the evening because I am quite certain it will be much more entertaining with you there” you crossed your arms over your chest eyeing the vampire in front of you “You've barely given me the time of day Elijah. You're civil, yes but as far as wanting to be friends no. Klaus has sought me out enough I think the probability of him killing me is down to at least eighty percent and Kol won't stop texting me at all hours of night when he's bored but I can't figure you out”

He smiled “Well give me your number and I'll call you if that's what you'd like. You frequent our home, we've had conversations and apparently you're getting close with at least one of my brothers as well as my sister. I'm putting the first foot forward here, my darling little hunter.  Rebekah will pick you up tomorrow morning and the two of you can go find your dresses while I'm tasked with ensuring my brothers are adequately dressed as well”

You narrowed your eyes “You're not gonna take no for an answer are you?” “If you insist I will but I think you would enjoy the evening and if you want to leave we will ensure you're escorted safely to your front door” you sighed “Ok. Tell Rebekah I'll be ready by ten” he smiled “Thank you” 

 

The knock at the dressing room door told you Rebekah was back with yet another armload of dresses.  She'd already found a dress that looked absolutely amazing on her but you'd yet to find one you were comfortable in. 

When you let her in however she only held one dress in her hands. “I think I found the one for you” 

—---------

The dress in question was an aline black dress with a plunging neckline and black lace sleeves. It covered the few scars you had well enough to appease you but was sexy enough to appease Rebekah.

You turned in front of the mirror,noticing how two of your tattoos were visible or parts of them were “Will the tattoos be ok?” She smiled as she looked you over “No one will notice any tattoos” you shook your head with a laugh “No one should notice me at all. I'll stick close enough to you that the gorgeous blonde gets all the attention”

She laughed “Let's check out. Of course you'll have to be with me most of the day of the ball so we can get ready” Yeah sure just spend an entire day at the Mikaelson compound. You strangely weren't that afraid of being there anymore, yeah they could easily kill you but christ with your life? It was a miracle you'd made it this long. Hanging out where Elijah, Klaus and Kol would be getting ready as well? Maybe that gave you some pause.  

You shook your head again “Why exactly have you Mikaelsons decided you want me around this much? I'm not some pet” 

You'd meant it jokingly but knew from the look on her face Rebekah had though you meant it. She spoke your name gently and when you looked at her she smiled “You're my friend and while it's true the boys are rather brutish at best for some reason they're actually supporting me being happy for once. I enjoy your company. They enjoy your spirit” you smiled warmly at her words “I was mainly kidding but nice to know”

She laughed “Now let's pay. I think we should get brunch” 

You'd been sitting in front of Rebekah while she applied makeup and fussed over your hair for the better part of two hours. When you'd made it there none of the men had been home so it was simple enough to make your way to her room. Now that the day was getting longer and time for the ball was getting closer your nerves were beginning to get the best of you. 

You were a hunter, you didn't do fancy. Hell you had a ged because you dropped out of high school due to moving around so much. You had never even gone to a dance. Yeah, you'd crashed a few black tie events with the Winchesters but that was to steal some relic that was needed. You'd never actually attended one as a guest or even as a plus one to an invited guest. What if you did or said something to embarrass Rebekah?

“All done love. Now stand up and give me a twirl so I can see my work all put together” you stood and spun around slowly. “You look amazing” she praised and you felt your cheeks warm. 

She was standing there looking like a freaking goddess. The dark blue strapless dress accented her curves and completion perfectly and her hair she'd just slightly curled with perfectly done makeup. She turned you to the full length mirror in the corner of the room “Look at yourself”

You stepped over to the mirror and nearly gasped. You looked amazing. She'd done your hair in a curly half do and your makeup was a more natural look that accented you perfectly. The dress looked like it had been made for you. Rebekah walked over behind you and slipped a necklace around your neck “You need jewelry” 

The necklace was a simple diamond pendant with matching earrings. It was simple enough for your taste but elegant enough to suit the dress and occasion. “Thank you Bek” she smiled over your shoulder at you in the mirror “I believe the two of us are ready to go. Let's go check on the boys shall we?” 

—--------------

You followed her down the stairs, careful to hold the hem of your dress as she did. Considering you didn't know much about etiquette for events like this you were basing your actions off her. 

The moment you both hit solid floor at the bottom of the stairs you heard Klaus “I must say you two look absolutely stunning” you turned towards the sound of his voice and saw him, Kol and Elijah dressed in tuxedos that were clearly made for each of them. 

“Thank you Klaus” you replied with a smile cutting your eyes towards Elijah before turning your attention fully back to Klaus “You three don't look so bad yourselves” Kol grinned “Save a dance for me then love. I'm sure Davina won't mind” you shook your head but laughed lightly “Of course Kol”

Elijah cleared his throat so the four of you looked towards him. He nodded towards the door “The driver's here” Kol headed for the door and Klaus offered Rebekah his arm. You watched the three of them walk out and started to follow until Elijah spoke your name. 

—----------

You looked towards him and he offered his arm. You took it as Rebekah had Klaus’ and walked with him out the door. Once the two of you were in the cool night air he leaned closer “I must say you are always stunning but you look exquisite tonight” 

You ducked your head hoping your cheeks weren't visibly blushed because you could feel them warming. “Easy Mikaelson,someone may think you're starting to warm up to me if they didn't know any better” he chuckled lightly “Oh we wouldn't want that would we?”

The house that the ball was being held in was more of a mansion. Had you not been on Elijah's arm you probably wouldn't have crossed the threshold you felt so out of place. When all of you were stopped by security Klaus spoke to them and you were quickly cleared to enter.

You looked over at Rebekah who gave you a warm smile “Enjoy yourself” you nodded slowly, reaching a hand up to touch the necklace she'd leant you instead of the one you usually wore. It was a nervous habit. 

Kol was already on the dance floor with Davina and winked at you when they went past. You laughed and felt some of your nerves dissolve. You had been invited to this by one of the families that built New Orleans,you weren't out of place. You could do this.

—------------------

Marcel, who you'd only met in passing, asked Rebekah to dance leaving you with Elijah and Klaus. You'd been around Sam and Dean enough to know when brothers were having a silent conversation so when Elijah gently dropped your arm it wasn't a surprise when Klaus offered his own “May I have this dance?”

You smiled sheepishly “Are you a strong lead? Because I really don't know this type of dancing” he laughed lightly “I'll take care of you” you took his arm and let him lead you out onto the dance floor. Rebekah shot you a smile from across the room as Klaus swept you away to the tune of the music.

—-------------------

You hadn't planned to stay at the ball long but before you knew it hours had passed. You'd danced with Klaus, Kol and even Marcel for one dance. You, Davina and Rebekah had probably drank a bottle of wine between the three of you as you stood to the side of the room talking. 

Klaus, Elijah, Kol and a few other men were talking about something. You looked around before asking “How many vampires, werewolves and witches are currently in this room?” Your tattoo had felt electrified most of the evening. It no longer really reacted to the Mikaelsons but there were other threats around apparently. Rebekah smiled “Enough” 

You nodded slowly, taking another sip of wine. Davina spoke up then “Why haven't you danced with Elijah?” Her and Rebekah exchanged a look and you shrugged “He hasn't asked” “Ask him” Rebekah offered and you shook your head “No, I'm good” 

—---------

She cut her eyes at Davina then took your wine glass and passed it and her own off to a waiter before pulling you behind her towards the men. She stopped in between Klaus and Elijah “Last dance of the night brothers. Marcel already left so Klaus you're my dance partner. Elijah you're going to dance with her” 

You met Elijah's eyes “You don't have to dance with me. I can find another partner” he smirked slightly “First you imply I'm not as handsome as my brothers then refuse to dance with me. One may begin to take it personally” Klaus laughed “Do dance with him love. I'd hate to be forced to listen to him complaining afterwards about you thinking Kol and I are more handsome than him” 

—---------

Elijah offered you his hand so you took it, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.  One of his hands came to rest at the small of your back, while the other reached for one of your hands. You placed one hand in his then the other on his shoulder, much the way you had the other men you'd danced with.

“Lead the way” you whispered and he smiled. As the two of you danced you tried to give your attention to anything but the way his dark eyes tracked your face. The way his fingers curled into the material of your dress, pulling you close. 

“I may have gotten a glimpse at a couple of your tattoos” he spoke, drawing your attention back to him. “Were you looking at my back that closely while I wasn't paying attention?” 

He shrugged one shoulder “The lace detail is made to draw the eye. It's nice work” you laughed lightly “It does the job. That's all I'm concerned about” He nodded and you felt your entire body warm even before he said “Perhaps I'll eventually see the rest of the tattoos one day” you raised an eyebrow at his words “Excuse me?” He laughed “I simply mean to see the work closer. I've never run across anything like it, to prevent compelling from any of my family is a feat indeed”

You held his gaze for a moment “You're harder to figure out than even Klaus. I can't quite get a read on you and it's beginning to annoy me” that seemed to amuse him because the next smile reached his eyes “I assure you that you're no easier of a read. I guess we both have our work cut out for us”

—-----------

Before you knew it the ball was over. When the driver arrived there were two cars instead of one. When you questioned it Klaus said “One is to take us home the other is to take you home. One of us will ride with you of course” you nodded and cut your eyes Kol considering Davina had already left “Care to escort me home?” 

He smiled and offered his arm like a gentleman. “Of course” you told Rebekah goodnight then smiled at Elijah “Thank you for getting me to come. I had a good time” “I'm glad”

Not a Damsel

[bettathanyou]

Betta Presents...

WIP WEDNESDAY!!

Welcome to my first take on wip wednesday, where yall get a snippet of a current original fic im brewing up! I thought it would be a cool way to give yall content without stressing myself out with needing it to be finished content. (i work slow asf lmao) Anyways. here is the wip of my upcoming two part fic, titled "The Death Of A Sorcerer; A Requiem Of A Princess"

___________

Cedric stared up at the ceiling of his cell, watching the little beads of water that slipped through the cracks in the stone above drip onto the hard brick of the floor below. Rats scurried in and out of the rusted iron jail bars to his left, carrying the untouched food he cast aside earlier back to their dens.

The tiny cell he occupied had no windows of any sort; the only light available to him was the dying embers of the torches mounted in the hallway, leading out of the cell block. The sorcerer shifts uncomfortably on the hard, freezing cold slab fixed to the wall of his prison, feeling the pins and needles wrack his thighs from sitting idly so long.

Cedric shivers, trying to pull his robe tighter against himself. It was a fruitless task, he knew- his stiffened fingers could attest, from clenching the fabric so taut for hours on end.

Though Cedric hasn't moved more than a few inches since his imprisonment the day prior, his exhaustion lingered down to the marrow of his bones. The sorcerer's mind had provided him no rest since being dragged away in chains- although, he was usually accustomed to racing thoughts that took away his sleep.

But not like this.

Cedric was normally used to the usual spiraling thoughts of "what if" when it came to his magic, his reputation, his worth as a person. Followed by the self hatred when he became a self fulfilling prophecy, and those what ifs became reality.

That was why he threw everything, everything he had into his evil dreams, wasn't it? To escape the purgatory that he was forced to call his reality. To force the hand of fate to deal him a better card. It seemed like his own blind faith, alongside his lofty ambitions, (desperation, in disguise, truly) was just another folly, and he was played for a fool.

Although, Cedric would be lying if he hadn't imagined the possibility of his evil dreams being a failure. The dream was born from him, after all- it was already doomed from conception.

At least, that's what Cedric had initially thought.

Shaking his head, he thinks back to the moment he hesitated to take over Enchancia. Sofia's bright blue eyes, pleading. The tip of his wand pointed towards her, the Medusa stone gleaming with every ounce of misguided resentment harbored from his life thus far. None of it which was Sofia's fault.

In fact, his sights were aimed at the little girl who gave him everything- which Cedric realized far, far too late. Only when Cedric had stood on the precipice of no return, did he find what he was truly looking for; not a crown, not a throne, not revenge.

A friend.

Cedric laughs humorlessly, the echo bouncing off the dampened stone walls. He tilted his chin up, the back of his head bumping into the wall as he contemplated.

How ironic. My greatest failure was also one of the best decisions I ever made.

Cedric takes in a shaky breath, feeling panic at his own demise writhe from the pit of his stomach.

"Probably the only good decision I've ever made." Cedric muttered grimly, digging his heels into the floor. Memories come crashing back into his mind, too quickly to rewind. But one instant remained.

Roland's decree was burned into Cedric's head, his authoritative voice cold and final:

"You will face the guillotine by sunrise tomorrow, Cedric. I sincerely hope you will accept your death with a little more grace, and dignity, than what you've shown me today."

The sorcerer slowly lays down on the bench as the words fade from his mind, feeling restless as his panic flared up again. His back meets the cold slab that hungrily leeched more of his body heat, and he winced in discomfort.

Cedric knew there was no chance of him getting any sleep tonight. He was too restless, and the wheels in his mind kept turning with its relentless pace about what led him to the dungeons at all.

But frankly, he was spent from regretting things that cannot be undone nor forgiven for. He was also painfully bored of staring at the same four stone walls, tracing the grout between each rock aimlessly.

Cedric's eyelids flutter shut, his chest feeling heavy.

Tomorrow, I will die.

Cedric huffs out a slow, resigned sigh.

All the better, Cedric thought, feeIing the back of his eyes burn with unshed tears.

I don't think I can live with the weight of my sins any longer.

[inavagrant-a]

@bushiido​ said;

* that’s not my name.

Katsuragi’s descendant has made it a habit to drop by every so often to his dungeon on the undergrounds depths of Tenshukaku. Why? The wanderer had and has no idea. Pity wasn’t something he wanted, in fact such a thing angers him, it upsets him, he is above being given pity. But, somewhere along those visits the undertone of rage began to fade and little bits at a time the ex-harbinger began to look forward to... Kazuha’s little visits. They weren’t often, not so common, sometimes he would go months at a time here on his lonesome, but time means nothing to him. He remains the same, he is stuck in a plane of his own, so if time progresses or decides to go backwards, the wanderer wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. There is no change of pace for him, or at least initially. That changed a bit when Kazuha began to visit him down here. Their talks weren’t precisely life changing, in fact the one who would do most of the talking was the other, sharing about his travels, what he’s seen, and every now and then the ex-harbinger would say a thing or two. It was silently a welcomed change. The ex-harbinger was able to conclude that Kazuha seems to drift with the wind and he very much enjoys it so. That’s, quite honestly, a lifestyle that he can get behind.

Kazuha is this young man’s name. The name didn’t ring any bells but his last name did──Kaedehara, now there’s a clan name he’s not heard in years. Kunikuzushi played a huge role on their downfall, their fall from grace is all thanks to him, actually. Every time Kazuha drops by, for whatever reason he can not bother himself into digging, he wonders if Kazuha knows that the reason his clan fell apart is sitting right in front of him, locked tight behind a divinely sealed cell. Just what would he do if he tells him? Would these... visitations come to an end? Would he despise him? Diss him and wish him unwell and harm? Why he even ponders of so... he wonders why he ponders of the what if. Perhaps he wants to tell him? In some way get it off his chest? Get it off his chest? Why? He feels no regret, he’s sure of it.

The ex-harbinger rests his back firmly against the cold brick wall of his cell, only half-listening to Kazuha as he speaks about some recent adventure he went to some nameless islands out in the middle of the ocean with others. It sounds like an adventure no doubt in accordance to the its and pieces that he actually picked up. “Hm,” he nods his head and pauses, contemplates but for a minute before he impulsively speaks up again, “Katsuragi I-.” The name of his most beloved friend leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, it isn’t until after that he does. His eyes open instantly at the realization. There’s a silence that settles between them before Kazuha corrects him a few moments later. He can’t find it in him to say something right away, to save face because even he caught himself off guard with that. “... My mistake.” He owns up to it after a moment, inwardly beating himself to a pulp. Though he means not to, subconsciously he sees Katsuragi in Kazuha and hearing some sort of confirmation of that out loud is... it’s...

“Just forget I called you that, Kazuha.” He refers to him correctly if only for himself, to remind himself that though there’s pieces of his friend present, Kazuha is not him. “... Your island adventure sounded quite... enjoyable.” He attempts to shift the subject back to what was being spoken of before. 

prompt.

[frenchrebelfries]

Fury’s Daughter

AN: Idk wth I just wrote... I just got this idea so yeah... Happy Reading!

.

You are the adoptive daughter of Nick Fury, when you were 5 he adopt you when your parents died on a plane crash that was cause by Hydra, your parents and Nick were good friends that’s why he took you in.

You were a smart kid, always analyzing things, Fury told everything to you and never lie. To protect your identity Nick made you a new one as you volunteer to be an agent of Hydra to gain information and was branded by the organization. You did dangerous mission and always getting out alive.

You were then sent back to and joined the Avengers initiative but the avengers were suspicious of you as you came out of nowhere, no files, no nothing but a name and Fury’s trust.

No one knew who you are to protect your identity in recon so the avengers treated you coldly but you didn’t care, you didn’t tell it to your father about the situation you are in because you were train to adapt and you did. You were kind to them and all as you and Natasha got closer… like really close. Out of all Natasha Romanoff is the one you have trusted the most.

.

.

You got out from the elevator after a short report you did to Nick about the information you got for the Winter Soldier when you heard the laughing of the team as they sat in the living room with pizza on the table as they talked and laugh at each other.

The laughter halted when they all noticed you and silence came… you knew you were never welcome her but your father trust them so you really had no choice but to put up with it, sensing their discomfort you just gave them a nod greeting them.

“Good evening Avengers” no one answered as you expected and left and went to your room, you heard a light foot steps following you and a hand holding your wrist and seeing a familiar red head you have fallen with for the past few weeks.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry about the boys you know how hard headed they are” she sincerely apologized to you as you gave her a soft smile

“it’s ok Natasha, I know they still don’t fully trust me and I understand why, so it’s cool” you replied to her as she looked at you suspiciously searching your face for any lies but you being good at hiding your emotion she immediately gave up when she didn’t find one.

“So… Movie night?” she asked cheekily at you as your brows furrows

“what about the others?” you asked her as she started pulling you towards her room as she shrugged

“they can take care of themselves, come on!”

.

.

One day when you were alone practicing in the gym at 6 am of the morning you accidentally took off your clothes leaving you in your sports bra forgetting that Steve Rogers is always awake at that time and saw your Hydra mark on your chest and thought of you as an enemy and told the team as they planned to eliminate you on the next mission.

To eliminate the Hydra scum.

.

.

“can I get a hand over here?” you heard Clint said in the coms as you took down the last guy from your floor inside a hydra base that you’ve been recon last week

“I’m coming on your way” you answered running to Clint’s direction knowing the base like the palm of your hands as you shot a Hydra soldier who was sneaking behind him

“Thanks” you nodded at him you continue your pursuit taking down agents as you skillfully glide yourself on the battle field.

The battle had stop when Clint finished the last guy as Steve and Natasha immerge from the control room with a case on hand.

They must have gotten the information

“Mission complete, how’s the perimeter Tony?” Captain said on the coms as you get close to Natasha scanning her for any injuries and sighted in relieve when you found none.

“Perimeter is clear as the sky Steve were ready to go home” you smiled at the thought of home… Fury promised you a dinner with Maria and Coulson when you get back since things have been busy these couple of week and you were really excited about it since it’s going to be your first dinner with them again since you got back from recon.

“time for phase 2 then, Romanoff” you frowned at Steve’s word

Phase 2? You never heard about it when at the briefing

You were still in confusion when Steve called Natasha and you felt a searing pain by your side

You wiped your head to your side seeing a knife… a knife you gifted to Natasha lunge by your side.

You looked at her eyes full of betrayal and so as Clint and Steve who was in there with you.

“Phase 2 complete, were leaving, now die you Hydra scum” Steve said voice full of spite hearing a ‘good job’ from Tony and a ‘let’s go’ from Clint as you fall down on your knees looking at their retreating figure leaving you.

The last one you saw was the red headed assassin taking one last look at you as they close the door as your whole body fall down on the cold ground.

You shakily grabbed your phone dialing your father’s number as he answered rather cheerful

“Y/N why are you calling me? Is your mission done?” you heard your dad’s voice making you tear up a bit

“D-dad…”

“get your ass here kid Maria and Coulson just arrived here and im about to finish cooking these turkey”

“c-can I have a rain check on the dinner dad… I kinda messed up…” your voice was now shaking and you are feeling colder than usual the blade may have a poison as you felt a burn and getting light headed faster than normal.

Fury must have sense that there is something wrong by the way your voice sounded

“Y/N what happened? Are you ok?” you can hear his voice full of worry as you heard Maria and Coulson from the background asking what’s wrong.

“I-I think I was the p-phase 2 of S-Steve’s plan dad… it’s really g-getting cold here ya know” blood tricked on the ground from your wound

Your vision darken as flashes of memories filled your eyes.

You can hear the shuffles from the other line saying they are tracking my call and will be sending medical help

“I’m s-scared d-dad… I still d-don’t wanna go” you cried,

“Help is on the way Y/N keep holding on I’m here for you kid” you can hear the shakiness of your father’s voice, you kept trying to keep your eyes open and now seeing dark spots forming.

“T-thanks for everything dad… tell Maria and Coulson I love them…” your voice was barely audible hearing their cried for you to wake up.

“Keep your eyes open for me kid… please”

“I-I think a need a nap… l-love you dad” and you were gone.

They kept calling for you but you never answered back.

.

.

Fury along with Maria and Coulson with a medical team arrived at the base eyes redden because of crying as they found you on the cold ground with your phone by your side and a stab.

Fury cradle you like a baby as the medic announced your death with Maria and Coulson crying by the side.

.

.

“Did you check the monitors?” Fury’s cold voice echoed in a quinjet as your cold body layed beside him with your head on his lap stroking the hair that is covering your face.

“you’re not gonna like it boss…” Maria said with blood shot eyes as she played the video of Steve ordering the Phase 2 and Natasha Romanoff stabbing you as they left you.

“call them up at SHIELD… they would pay for what they did to her” Nick ordered as Coulson took his phone out to call them.

Nick glanced at you as he swiped some blood by your mouth hugging your corpse closer to him.

.

.

.

They avenger’s arrived at SHIELD seeing Fury holding Y/N’s hand as she lay dead on the table with Maria and Coulson by the back holding back their anger.

“what is this Fury?” Steve stepped out in confusion to why they got the body of Y/N

“What is the phase 2 Captain” Nick’s voice was colder than usual

“… to eliminate the Hydra-“ Steve answered as the other’s stayed silent

“and who is the Hydra?”

 “Y/n…”

 Then there’s silence, the team were uncomfortable with the silence but Steve was getting impatient with all of it.

“Look I don’t know what is your point here but you should thank us for killing the mole here Fury”

Fury looked at them as Coulson held Maria who was about to attack Steve as Fury spoke…

   “I see no dead mole here Rogers… all I see is my dead daughter”

  The team’s eyes widen as they froze from there spot

“W-what?” Bruce asked

“Y/N Fury... is my daughter who you called a Hydra scum”

“B-but she had the brand-“

“She had the brand because she was undercover inside Hydra that gave her the mark to extract information for your missions that is saving billions!” Fury angrily shouted making them all flinch.

All of it dawned to them as Natasha fall into her knees realizing she killed a hero… she killed her friend who trusted her… she killed the person who loved her…

“I pulled her out of the recon to keep her safe knowing her all her covers were blown, I put her into your team so she can be protected thinking after all those years of being away we can have a normal dinner like she wanted for years, I trusted my daughter in your hand yet you are the one who killed her…”

Fury stood up tears streaming down on his face

“Avenger Initiative’s termination is effective immediately, all of you would be put in maximum security prison for killing Y/N Fury” Agents entered taking their weapons and cuffing them

 “Nick… I’m sorry” Steve’s voice filled with regret rang out as Fury looked at him coldly throwing a file on the ground in front of him as the content spilled revealing pictures of the Winter Soldier.

 “Y/N wanted to give you this information from the last recon she was put in to, James “Bucky” Barnes is alive and now known as the Winter Soldier who is working for Hydra and has killed thousands”

Steve’s face was full of shock knowing his best friend Bucky is alive…

“Nick-“

“I’m sorry to cap…” Fury cut him off and coldly apologies to Steve who is now confuse to why as everyone in the room looked at them in silence.

 “you took someone dear away from me… and now I’m taking yours, Good Bye Avengers and thank you for your service” before Steve and others could react they were all tranquilized knocking them out cold and only waking up in a glass cell with Ross smirking at them as they sat there in silence thinking the things that they have done for you.

“welcome to your new life Avengers…in prison!” and a loud laugh erupted from Ross as he walked out as ex-heroes gazes followed his exit.

[noritoshiikamo]

When you get time coul you do sickingly cute domestic hcs with a character of your choice, you can just straight up delete this is you don't feel like it. ~ embarrassed dragon asks

days of nanami kento, hc:

void, i know u asked for sickly cute domestic hc and i did but i cant help but twisted something at the end bcs i'm me and only pain is allowed ((jkjk void i'll write something pure sickingly cute later for you :* ) warning: 18+ minor dni, sexual content, public, eating out and thigh riding (mention of word daddy) if you read past the addendum, well uh mention of main character's death listen to beach bunny cloud 9 (slowed acoustic) for vibezz

i feel like who ever gets nanami’s heart wins at life

he would bring you flowers every time he gets home

“hello, i’m home,” you could hear his tired voice but when your face come in the view if him, he started to smile and he held the flowers to you, he wasn’t tired anymore

morning with him would be peaceful despite it being monday. you’ll wake up early, he would be sprawled on his belly, comforter wrapped around his waist with his face mushed into the pillow. your cat would be somewhere in bed, sometimes between his legs and sometimes on the same pillow as him; he loves your cat

he likes his coffee black, breakfast is just two toasted breads with spread of butter

when he kissed you, he tasted like toothpaste. you can smell his lingering fragrance from yesterday and his voice was still deep from the slumber

“good morning love.”

“coffee smells good today, did you do anything to em?”

he was shirtless you could see his back with his pants hung loose you could see his happy trails, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose with his messy hair as he took a bite of the toast

he leaned against the counter, his lidded eyes on you and suddenly you felt conscious, but you were in his tshirt and shorts and those adorable socks that looks like animal he secret loves

“you have work today?” he asked washing his hand

you shook your head, pointing to the laptop and sprawling paper works on the table, “working for home.” your body shuddered when you felt the shirt hiked up, his bare hand pressing against your waist, “good,” his voiced echoed on your ear as he pressed a kiss on your shoulder

how did it get here again? your back arching on the counter while his head mewling between your legs. his tongue is mean, it left burning trails wherever it touches, kitten licks along the sensitive slits before his lips enveloped the bundle of nerves

“kento, meetin-ahh,”

“meeting can wait.” yes it can wait until you were trembling, his arms around your waist and you were just begging him to cum and when you did he had no problem cleaning you up, eyes on you as he wiped his chin, sucking the thumb with a small smile

“thank you for breakfast, it’s delicious,” waltzing out of the kitchen with a wink like he hadn't started his day by eating you out while you sat there struggling to catch a breath

on tuesday, he took you for lunch, you went to his favourite bakery and he told the cashier that his girlfriend loves the sourdough bread their bakery made to explain why there's 4 loaves in his basket

he’ll get the same order everyday while you decided to go to the convenient store across the street because you felt like bread was too heavy for today's meal

“i’ll have another one of the croissant, she’s picky, she won’t find anything there,” he explained, pulling out his wallet

like he expected you came out empty handed, but your eyes lightened up when he held another croissant

“how did you know i won’t buy anything?”

“because i’m your boyfriend.”

on wednesday you would take him out for dinner, to that one sushi conveyor shop where they have happy hours for their sushi, its that type of night where you both get slightly wasted on beer, shoveling half priced sushis like tomorrow is the end

to nanami, money is priceless with you, no monetary value could compare to your smile as you feed him a slice of sashimi and the way i love you rolled out of your tongue when he grabbed your favourite sushi from the conveyor if she missed it

on thursday nanami looked restless. you sat at the sofa, him with a book on his lap and you going through your laptop with a cup of tea. “we have a mission coming, i’m escorting a couple of satoru’s students for their grading.”

you stared at him, cup barely got to your mouth, “you’re great, i don’t see any issues.”

“they are kids,”

you reached for his face, his face softened to your touch, nuzzling gently against your palm

“they’ll be alright.”

you squealed when he tossed the book aside, laptop forgotten on the carpeted floor and the cup carefully placed on the coffee table

your shirt slipped off your head easily while his lips never left yours

"you come back home to me alright?" you threatened, "or i'll murder you myself."

"i will, love."

on friday, nanami took you out on a date

he held your hands in the train, shielding you away from the leering men

he took you to a fancy cafe for lunch, he barely touched his food, eyes on you as you stared happily on your choice of meal

"what? is it my mascara? is it messy?" you wondered

"you look pretty today," he said, leaning to brush a thumb across your cheek

he took you to a bookstore, he followed you as you ventured through the long dimmed hallways, the smell of books overwhelmed him as his eyes burned on your back as you looked around for books, the loose material of your dress swaying around

well you did find your book, but he would hold it up high, a small smirk on his face as his fingers tapped on his lips; you got his point

so you held him against the bookshelf as you kissed him, books long forgotten, his hands under your dress as you mewled against his thighs

"let's go home," you begged but he held your waist tightly, bouncing his legs to encourage you to bounce against his thighs

"you can do it here," his lips traced kisses along your jaw, ears as you clutched his shirt, desperately rubbing yourself against his thigh. your eyes drowsy in lust, lips torn from biting too hard as you held your moans and the flexing of his thigh against your clit got your belly in knots

"can you cum for me?"

"yes, daddy,"

he smiled, "good. cum then."

you didn't get caught, but it was hard to stop people from leering at the weird wet patch on his pants as he swiped his card at the counter

you went groceries shopping, his head on your shoulder, arms around you and the trolley as you went down the isle looking for dinner idea

"what do you want, love?" his voice deep against your ears sending shudders down your spine

"anything you want."

he smiled, "well i want to marry you."

"is that a proposal in the middle of a cereal isle?" he laughed, but you can't stop the way your heart beating at the words he said. his lips pressed against the side of your face as he slipped a box of flakes in the trolley

you stopped the trolley, turned around to face him

he looked puzzled, brows up in question

"i want to marry you too."

"good, how about next monday?"

"deal."

but you woke up alone, the next day on saturday, nanami was long gone away for his mission

he left the coffee running, toasted bread and scrambled eggs in the pan and a note on a cup that said i love you, nk , his initial signed

you made yourself a cup of coffee, looking for the remote to turn on the tv

"we had lost contact with the shibuya train station, trapping approximately hundreds of people with no cell phone connection inside,"

the news anchor's word went in her one ear and another

where was nanami being sent to again?

you held his note to your heart, the coffee tasted too bitter for you today, and you leaned against the sofa

how's nanami doing?

on sunday, your ears perked up when you heard a knocking on the door

leaving the pancakes you planed to make, you wondered if it's nanami returning home from his mission

you felt slightly uneased, another set of knocking barged in, you said hold on and closed your eyes, telling yourself it's just your mind fucking with you

you smiled, feeling slightly relief as you twisted the door handle

"welcome home."

"hello, y/n?"

addendum

it was just not fair that the one time you decided to bring flower home to him, he wasn’t there to receive it.

but you’re used to it. it has been a year

all you’ll have to do is just remove the old one from the vase, add more water before arranging the bright flowers in the vase, before placing it back on his tombstone. your hand touched the cold stone, a small smile on your face as you kneeled on the grass

“hi, nanamin, i’m home.”

[rendevousz]

reunited

req: i was wondering if i could request a natasha x teen daughter reader where the reader has really bad social anxiety please? maybe where the reader was in the red room with natasha but given to hydra once the red room was taken down and natasha has been looking for her ever since she left the red room. on a mission to take down a hydra base natasha finally finds reader, and it's super emotional for the both of them and they're just happy to have each other back. natasha knows about readers social anxiety from when she was younger and sees that it's only gotten worse now, so she's super sweet and understanding. she saves the reader from the base and comforts her the whole way home because she's scared of all of the new people also on the jet (the other avengers). the reader lives with natasha at the compound with everyone else and natasha is just great about her social anxiety and never pushes her out of her comfort zone and comforts her when she has panic attacks. sorry if that's a lot, but thank you so much! i love your fics sooo much, you're such an amazing writer!!! 💖💖💖

mother figure!nat x fem!teen!reader

summary: nat finally finds you after years of looking.

word count: 4083

notes: i didn't make them peers in the red room because then they'd have to be around the same ages but i made them meet at the red room. also i didn't know how to write about her having social anxiety so i hope you don't mind that i didn't 😓 hope you like this <33

"stop," madame b's authoritative voice commanded and all of you stopped dancing. all of your peers seemed to be struggling to stand still on their battered feet, some breathing heavily but who could blame them? you had all been instructed to dance for hours now. you had to dance until you couldn't anymore.

your head faced madame b but your eyes landed on your best friend, veronika, for a split second. she seemed in pain and you vowed to check on her after whatever announcement your supervisor had for you. you stood tall, clenching your jaw in order to not show that you were in pain or out of breath.

madame b's gaze flickered to you for a second, her lip lifting up on one side for a brief moment before her face hardened once again.

"i have someone special here today. she's here to observe your training and if necessary, teach what you girls lack. she has long graduated this academy, please welcome miss natasha romanova."

you jolted awake, panting hard at the memory that just played in your dreams. you looked around you, seeing the same cell wall you had been put in for the past three years. after the fall of the red room academy where you were from, another organisation came and swooped you in, not wanting to waste your skills. you were the only one they took, having heard much about your abilities and reputation in the red room.

the girls stood all around you and veronika, watching the two of you spar tirelessly after hours of endless ballet. natasha and madame b watched the match closely, eyes trained on your techniques and movements.

after natasha had introduced herself to all of you, madame b had instructed her supposedly two best students—you and veronika— to demonstrate a true spar between skilled assassins.

while you were reluctant to attack your best friend, she had other plans, one that included impressing her idol who stood mere metres away from her. you were shocked when she started attacking you. never had she obeyed a command against you so quick.

you had to put away your initial shock to start attacking back in order to not get hurt by the hands of your own best friend. the look in her eyes was different, almost animalistic. it wasn't like the one she had when you two were laid in your beds side to side at night, handcuffed to it while you talked about your deepest struggles being in the academy. it wasn't the same one she had when you reassured her that she was doing okay whenever she said she would never be as good as you were at this whole assassin thing. it wasn't the same innocently surprised one she had just moments ago when she was addressed as one of madame b's best students.

this wasn't your best friend. this was a girl blinded by her desire to impress. she wanted to show natasha that she was the better one out of you two. your heart broke when you saw her desperation. it was obvious in the way she fought you.

it wasn't long before you had her in a chokehold, the girl struggling to get your grip off of her. your face visibly faltered, eyes tearing up slightly when you heard her whimpers. natasha took notice of this.

your lips were quivering when you turned to madame b. a simple nod from your trainer had you whispering a strained 'i'm sorry, i love you' in her ear before you broke her neck. the girl fell limp in your arms, dropping down to the mat, dead. you panted heavily as you stepped away from her body.

"good. this is what i expect of all of you," madame b turns to your peers, the stone cold look back on her face. "one thing you need to perfect though, y/n, is your emotions. don't get emotional over things that don't matter. i saw your inner conflict. veronika would have no reluctancy to end you if you were the one in the chokehold. she was more mentally prepared to be a ruthless assassin. you're lucky you're more skilful than she is. she would have no hesitation to kill you, close companion or not."

you swallowed that lump in your throat, biting the insides of your cheeks to prevent crying right then and there. "you have a lot of potential, y/n. don't let your emotions ruin it. i have high hopes for you." she spoke once again, before dismissing everyone.

you left the room with a heavy heart, turning to look at veronika's body one last time before leaving quickly so you could break down where no one else could witness.

you rushed to the staircase where you and veronika would sneak away all the time when you were supposed to be having lunch. you two would always sit under those stairs, talk about anything and everything you could. your tears were now freely rolling down your face.

"hey," you heard a voice say and you quickly wiped your tears away. you looked up and saw that it was none other than natasha. "miss romanova," you breathed out, scrambling to get up before she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, the woman seating herself next to you on the floor, under the staircase.

"that must've been hard for you," she spoke after a few seconds of silence. "i remember my first time killing an actual person in training. they had me shoot targets and i consistently got the bullseye every time. then they switched out the targets to an actual person and i had a hard time doing that. i can't imagine how it must've been for you. i heard you and veronika were quite the inseparable duo."

you didn't move to show that you were shattered over the current events but the millions of tears silently streaming down your face said otherwise. natasha turned to you, reaching to wipe your tears away before gently caressing your cheek.

"you're a strong one, y/n. you remind me of myself when i was still in training. i can see myself in you." she told you truthfully. she had no idea why but she felt a strong connection towards you. she felt that you and her had so much in common. she had a strange inclination to protect you even though she knew damn well you were capable of doing so yourself.

since then, she always dropped by to help train all of you but you and her developed a relationship so strong that she even told you of her plans to get you out of that hellhole. at that point, it had been a few months since she'd turned good but she kept coming to the academy for your sake. she felt a sense of responsibility over you, like a mother would over her daughter.

she would with the other girls too if they had shown at least a bit of humanity but it seemed that the red room had ruined them beyond fixing. despite being the best student of the academy, you still weren't inhumane like the rest. you would hesitate to hurt others, only doing so when threatened and even that, you still weren't as heartless or cruel.

madame b would always berate you over this but natasha would pick up the pieces every single time. you loved her. she was the best thing in your life after veronika and your heart broke when the red room fell and you were taken away. away from the mother you never had.

you awoke with a jolt again. it was the second night in a row you were reliving your past memories. you touched your face and you felt the tears on it, wiping them with your sleeve as you sat up in your cold, uncomfortable bed in your cell. you sighed, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them.

you couldn't help but think of nat again. what could've happened if she managed to get you out before you were taken away? could you have a nice life with her? would you never have to hide under the stairs to have emotional exchanges with the woman? would you finally have been able to be who you were, not influenced by the evil around you?

you never knew what it was like having a mother but you imagined it was what nat had been towards you during the times you spent together at the academy. you two were more mother and daughter rather than trainer and student.

all of a sudden, alarms blared through the building and red warning lights flickered in your cell. you stood up, peeking through the small glass of your cell door to see guards rushing through the hallways in a frenzy.

you assumed that the facility was under attack and no one was coming to save you. you didn't even try, walking back to your bed to return to your position of hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

you could hear the chaos outside but opted not to pay attention to it. it didn't involve you and if no one was coming to save you from whatever was attacking the place—not that anyone in that place would, you were merely an asset to them—you wouldn't bother worrying about whether you were going to live by the end of the night.

a loud bang interrupted your thoughts and you looked up to see your cell door had been forcefully thrown open by a large man in stripes, holding a circular shield. you immediately stood up, getting ready to attack him when he spoke.

"i'm not here to hurt you." he said, holding out a hand as if to tell you to stop whatever you were about to do. "we're here to save you. you can finally leave this place now." he says gently. you frown at him, still in a stance ready to attack him.

"cap, is there someone in this room?" a familiar voice spoke and your head immediately turned to the door, where the owner of the voice stood, mouth dropping open at the sight of you. your face softened and a tiny gasp left your lips at the sight of her.

"y/n...is that you?" she breathed out, walking towards you and not stopping when she saw that you weren't alarmed or anything. "nat.." you choked out, tears starting to form. how crazy was it that you had been having flashbacks of her for the past two nights and suddenly she was here to come save you?

"y/n!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. you knees buckled but she held onto you tightly, sniffling as she caressed your head gently. you buried your face in her shoulder as you took in the familiar feeling of being in her arms once again.

more tears started to form in your eyes now. never had you thought you were actually going to see her again. you lost the hope of seeing her again two years ago. but here she was, standing in your cell and hugging you like there would be no tomorrow.

your hugging session was cut short when steve sheepishly spoke up. "sorry to uh, interrupt this reunion but more guards are coming, i think it's best if we leave now." he picked up his shield, leading the three of you out of the facility safely and back to their quinjet. the whole time, nat held onto your hand tightly, as if letting go would lead to another few years of being apart once again.

once you reached the quinjet, nat led you to the seats in the back where you two would have more privacy. the team watched the two of you in confusion before turning back to steve for an explanation as he was the one who was partnered with nat for this mission. all the captain could tell them was that you two knew each other way before this and that all of them would have to wait for an explanation from nat herself if they wanted to know what was going on.

when you reached the compound, nat led you to her room where she lent you her clothes and let you shower before tucking you into her bed. when she was sure you were comfortably asleep, she left the room quietly to go grab a glass of water only to find the whole team sat in the common room instead of back in their own rooms.

she looked at them, confused. "guys, it's like almost the crack ass of dawn and we just got back from a mission, why aren't you asleep? or were you debriefing? in the common room? did i miss it?"

"no, you know debriefings for late night missions are the next morning. we were waiting for you actually," steve spoke on behalf of the whole team. "me? for what?"

"nat, c'mon, don't act stupid. you know what we're talking about," clint makes an unimpressed face at his best friend. nat sighs, taking a seat next to him and the team look at her expectantly. she cleared her throat, preparing for a whole story time.

"you know how i was from the red room?" she asked them and they all nodded, urging her to continue her story. "well, after i graduated, i was asked to come help train the younger ones in the programme. during that time, i met this girl. she reminded me a lot of my younger self and she didn't seem completely brainwashed to the point where she lacked emotions. i grew close to her and after i met clint and joined SHIELD, i vowed to get her out of there because she went through a lot in that hellhole and i could tell she didn't want to do any of the things that the other girls were fine doing.

"she had a good heart and i didn't want it to be wasted. she was the best in the academy and i knew they had big plans for her. but i didn't want her to be programmed to kill. she was much more than that. so i made this whole plan for her escape. i kept going back to the academy to come see her and share my plan with her. clint, you always asked me where i kept disappearing to when we first started becoming friends. it was her. the people there didn't know i was already under SHIELD at that time—nobody did—so it was safe for me to keep visiting and keep planning an escape for her.

"but three years ago, the red room fell. i rushed over because i thought i could finally leave with her without anyone knowing. but apparently she'd been taken away. she was the only one of the girls who was taken. by who, i didn't know at that time. but i knew it was because of her skills and abilities. if the red room had big plans for her, i knew other organisations must've already heard of her too.

"i never stopped looking for her. i don't know why i never thought of HYDRA. but it doesn't matter anymore. i finally found her and i'm never letting her go. i hope you guys don't mind that she lives here now. if not, i'll move out and find somewhere for us."

the team seemed surprised that nat told them her story. they were very much expecting her to, well, not tell them because this seemed like a very personal story.

"no, no, of course she can stay. i'll even set up another room for her." tony says and nat nods gratefully. "what's her name?" wanda asks.

"y/n," nat tells her, smiling at the thought of you as she stands up. "alright, i have to go back to her. see you guys in the morning. maybe you'll get to see her then."

she bids them goodnight, leaving after grabbing a glass of water for you in case you woke up in the middle of the night, in need of it. she wasn't wrong because when she got back to her room, you were up, hugging your knees as you cried.

"hey, hey, hey, what's wrong, sugar?" she quickly puts the glass of water on the bedside table, sitting on the bed and pulling you close to her. you look up at her all teary-eyed and she feels her heart break.

"i–i thought i lost you again," you croaked out, burying your face in her shoulder. "oh, sugar, you'll never lose me ever again. i'll never let that happen. you're safe here with me. now sleep, i'll be here when you wake up." she stroked your hair gently, laying down next to you on the bed before you two fell into a blissful slumber in each other's arms.

true to her words, she was right next to you when you woke up the next time. she seemed wide awake and you felt bad because she probably had been up hours before but didn't leave you because you were scared.

"how'd you sleep, sugar?" she asked as you sat up, stretching. "the best i have in years. thanks to you, nat." you smiled at her, still not believing all of this is real. that you're finally reunited with the woman you thought of as your mother.

"do you want to meet my friends? they're dying to meet you," she tells you and you bite your lips nervously. "do you think they'll like me?"

"are you crazy? of course they will. and if they don't, i'll make them." she threatens playfully and you laugh, missing how protective of you she is. you smile, agreeing to her suggestions to meet her friends after you got ready for the day.

-

"hi, sweetie, you're y/n?" a man with fancy silk pyjamas greeted as you entered the common room with natasha. you nodded timidly, scooting closer to natasha. it was weird for natasha to see you this nervous. after all, you were the best student of your batch in the red room. but she understood that years with no actual social interaction does that to people.

"i hope you'll like staying here, i already have your room setting up as of right now. when you move in, you can tell me if you don't like anything and i'll change it for you. oh, i forgot, i'm tony," he extends a hand towards you and with an encouraging nod from nat, you hesitantly shake his hand. he smiles at you before telling you both he has projects to finish down in his lab and to tell him if you needed anything.

"hey, nat, not gonna introduce your friend to us?" you heard a voice from behind you and you two turned around to see two men and a woman. you recognised both men—one of them was the one who broke into your cell last night and the other one you had seen him a lot from pictures nat would show you during your secret meetings in your red room days. he was her best friend. you didn't know the woman but the kind smile on her face was enough to reassure you that these people weren't bad.

"y/n, meet clint, the idiot who i call best friend," she points to the shorter man. the name nat called him must've offended him because the face he made was hilarious that you let out a little giggle. nat smiles at this before proceeding to introduce the other two.

"this one's steve, he's an old man stuck in a young body—literally— so if he says things you don't understand, just smile and nod." you nod at nat and steve gives her an incredulous look, as if not believing the audacity she had to introduce him like that.

"this one's wanda, she's the least annoying person in this whole place and she can cook whatever you want so i think you two will get along really well." wanda smiles at you and you return it shyly. you smile at the other two before nat drags you away, telling them she still had others to introduce you to.

when you entered the kitchen, you saw a man reading a newspaper on the kitchen island while another man, whose skin was red, stood beside him. they seemed to be discussing something very intelligent because you didn't understand a single word they spoke.

"bruce, vision, i want you to meet someone." they turned their attentions towards you and nat and you immediately felt like hiding once again. "oh hello, steve told us you brought back someone from the mission. is this her? hello, i'm bruce," the man sitting down introduced himself.

"wait, is this the bruce?" you asked nat, smirking teasingly at her and she smacks you gently on the shoulder. the man seemed flustered at what you're insinuating, scratching his neck awkwardly.

"bruce, vision, this is y/n, i've known her for a long time and i finally found her after years so i hope you two won't mind that she'll be staying here from now on," nat tells them. the two of them didn't come on the mission last night so they were the only two who didn't actually see you until today.

"it's nice to meet you, y/n. i'm vision, i hope you'll enjoy your stay here." the man with the red skin greets formally and you turn to nat with a confused expression. "he's an android, he does things a bit weird here so don't mind him." she whispers to you and you nod understandingly.

"it's nice to meet you two, i hope we'll be good friends." you say awkwardly, hoping to get this whole introduction thing over with. how many people do you have left to meet?

speaking of the devil—or should you say, devils—, two annoying voices rang through the kitchen, interrupting the peacefulness that it was before they came in.

"i'm just saying that if you hadn't eaten my last bag of chips last week, i wouldn't have taken your cookies last night. it's all about fair play, man."

"and i keep telling you that it wasn't me! i don't even like those stupid salty ass chips from that brand,"

"stop lying, i saw you eating that brand the other day! just admit you stole my chips and go,"

"guys, are you really having another one of your stupid arguments now?" nat cuts them off and they immediately turned to you, finally noticing all of you.

"oh hey! y/n, right? it's nice to meet you, i'm sam. if you wanna survive in this place, you better hide your snacks because if you don't, this winter warrior here will snatch 'em all before you can even stash them in the cupboards. don't ever trust this guy here when it comes to your snacks. you heard what happened to mine," the man fakes a cry and you held back a laugh at his long introduction. you only wanted a name to match the face but he gave you much more. you didn't mind though, he seemed like a fun person.

"hi, doll, i'm bucky. don't listen to eagle right here, i do not steal snacks. i simply let people have a taste of their own medicine. you steal my snacks, wilson, i steal 'em back. you think i don't know you stole my oreos too last month? that's why i stole your damn chips last week,"

"so you did steal them!"

"so what if i did?! you stole my oreos first!"

"oh my god, guys, you're really embarrassing me in front of y/n. these are really the people i was excited to introduce her to," nat face-palmed and you couldn't help but laugh. "don't worry nat, these people seem amazing. i can't wait to get to know them better." you assured her and she smiles, pulling you close to her. "buckle up, sugar, because living with the avengers is gonna be a wild ride."

you were excited for what was about to come. it seemed like everything was finally falling into place. you finally got nat back and you didn't have to worry about losing her again because you had a feeling these people weren't going to let that happen.

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[reidyoulikeabook]

the battery was dead

Ship: GN! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mention of case-typical violence (more specifically, a bomb), told from Spencer's perspective and he experiences anxiety about reader having been harmed (they're okay though!), Spencer's self-deprecating thoughts, general mood of anxiety throughout, stressful team situation, big feelings of guilt, very much hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1.6k (i did not intend for this to be this long but it's basically a whole thing)

A/N: This is not what I intended to write today but my brain's on a whole hurt/comfort vibe apparently so here we are: something I wrote all in one go in about half an hour. Oops.

Everybody was in different places when the bomb went off. Spencer was with Derek, in an SUV headed uptown. The explosion was downtown. Where you'd been headed. Alone.

The geographical profile had indicated he wouldn't strike downtown. The geographical profile that he had made. The geographical profile that the team had trusted, that the team had based their assignments off, that had led Hotch to conclude it was safe to send you downtown alone.

"Garcia," Derek answers, putting her on loudspeaker and glancing at Spencer who could be pictured and pasted into the DSM-V as the definition of anxiety right now, "Garcia tell me you can patch everybody through."

"I'm trying," She rambles, her voice pitching upwards, "I'm patching ___ through now I'm trying their cell."

Spencer's leg bounces. It bounces so hard it's a miracle the velocity of it doesn't send Derek veering right across the road. He scratches at his neck. There are no words to be said. No words in any language in the world can describe the fear coursing through his body as he hears Garcia scramble, pressing keys and typing and he's only vaguely aware of Derek's hand coming to rest reassuringly on his bouncing knee, managing to still it just a little bit.

"___ will be fine," He reassures him, "Just fine. I promise. It's not your fault kid, you couldn't have known, how would you have known?"

"It's my job to know."

His tone is bitter, angry, and he feels even worse for it because it's not Derek's fault. Derek is trying to help. Derek is trying to be kind and somehow that's worse because he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve anybody's kindness right now and he can't get your face out of his mind. How you'd smiled at him before walking out of the door of that precinct and how it might be the last time he ever got to see you smile and it was all his fault. All his fault.

His stomach is in knots. Garcia's practically smacking her precious equipment in her hurry and then the line goes mute.

"Garcia?" Derek asks again, "Garcia are you still there?"

There's a beat of silence and then the background noise returns, "I'm just trying ____'s cell."

What's taking so long? She could have tried by now. He's never known Garcia to be slow at her job and even though it feels like time has stopped. Fractured like a mirror, throwing off pieces, and he's trapped inside a piece that has all of the horror and guilt he's ever felt in his life staring him in the face. But she can work faster than that. Why isn't she working faster than that?

It all becomes clear as he hears her clack again. Then your voice floods the line.

"You've reached SSA ____ ____ of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Please leave a voicemail, or if you're calling regarding an urgent matter then please direct your calls to SSA Aaron Hotcher at the following number-"

"Maybe she's already on the phone," Derek suggests, cutting over your recital of his number, "Maybe her line's already busy. Right Garcia, is her line already busy?"

"I can't tell."

She's lying. Spencer knows she's lying and it knocks him sick. He practically wrenches the handle to the window off in his quest to get it open. The cold air pours in and he feels worse. He can't allow himself to bask in any feeling of comfort when you're God knows where.

He can't let himself think like that. He blinks hard, shaking his head as if he can physically remove the images from his brain. They flash through, his neurons defying him as they keep picturing you in worse and worse scenarios, and he can't breathe.

"Pull over," He directs Derek, wrenching off his seatbelt before Derek even manages to get the car in park.

Somewhere amidst all of it, Hotch has been patched through.

"We're convening downtown. Our presence has been requested at the crime scene."

Derek is saying something to pacify him. Or he's telling him something. He can't tell because his head is swimming and then Derek is squeezing his shoulder, physically pulling him back into reality.

"Kid. Listen to me. You're not helping anybody getting yourself all worked up like this. We need to focus. We've got to work this through."

He nods. He nods because Derek is right. They do have to work this through. Even though they would be better working this through without him because he's the one who made the profile that was wrong and his contributions clearly can't be trusted and-

"Put your seatbelt on. Talk to me. Let's talk through how it could have gone wrong."

Derek's voice strikes just the right balance between commanding and reassuring. It always does. So he does it. He clips in the seatbelt and starts to ramble, discussing avenues they haven't explored before, suggesting why he could have been wrong. He's never doubted himself like this before, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. What's more uncomfortable is the realisation he's never failed you like this before.

They pull up to the crime scene. Derek scrambles out of the car, but he pauses for a beat. It's only when Emily opens the door, that he's pulled back into reality again.

"Spencer," She says, "Spencer, come on."

There are SUV'S everywhere. They've tried to contain the scene as much as they could but they needed the bomb squad, needed paramedics, needed FBI.

She's walking him somewhere and he's frantically searching around him, frantically trying to orient himself. It doesn't help that it's dark, gone midnight by now, and the street lights were taken out in the initial explosion. Most of the lights come from torches, or headlamps that people are wearing. It's not enough, he can barely make out Emily let alone find your face in the crowd.

And then he hears it. His name. Your voice.

You found him.

"Spencer," You call, and he can't possibly turn around fast enough.

He barely has before you come crashing into his arms, cinching them tightly around him. He practically scoops you off of the ground, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as he can possibly get you to his body, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo and there's tears coming out of his eyes, tears of relief and fear and-

"Spencer," You tell him, sniffling, "Spencer you're kind of crushing me."

You let out a little laugh, and he lets out one too. But it's puffy, practically just air. He releases his grip a bit and you lean up, your arms looping around his neck and playing with the baby hairs situated at the nape of it.

"Spence I'm okay, I'm right here," You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I'm right here."

You are right here. He can hear the pound of your heart, he can smell your perfume, he can feel you playing with his hair in a way that tickles but is so comforting, so domestic, so reassuring that you still love him despite his fuck up, that he couldn't bring himself to tell you to stop even if he wanted you to.

He doesn't even know he's still crying until he speaks, his voice wavering as it manoveurs past the lump in his throat, "I-Garcia tried calling you. You didn't answer your phone."

"The battery was dead," You tell him, "I plugged it in in the car and next thing I know I'm getting pulled over. I got brought straight here when I told them I was FBI and I tried to borrow somebody's phone to call but they cut off cell reception here in case there was a second bomb."

He swallows. He can't say anything else, can't do anything else. He manages to open his eyes, and you lean up, apparaising him. You thumb at the tears on his cheeks, a kind of softness and love entirely exclusive to you filling your eyes along with a couple of tears. You don't look at him like you're angry. You don't look at him like you're disappointed. You look at him with a kindness he's entirely undeserving of at this moment in time and the thought spurs two more tears out of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, "Spence what's wrong?"

"It was my fault," He chokes, his head dipping a bit, too ashamed to make eye contact, "I made the profile. I was wrong. I sent you here, I-I sent you directly into danger."

"It was a copycat," You tell him, "It was a copycat, he didn't get away in time and got caught up in the blast. Our guy is smarter than that, so they think this guy tried to imitate it. It's not your fault. You couldn't possibly have known, you can't profile a person you don't know exists."

The revelation is like foam on a petrol fire. It quells the pain in his chest, the one that had maliciously licked at him, igniting all his own wounds and insecurities.

It wasn't his fault.

He holds onto you even tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Thank you. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being okay."

"I'm always okay," You tell him, your voice nothing but sincere, "I'm always okay because I always have you."

With that, the fire is out. You reluctantly wiggle out of his arms, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. He's not okay yet. Not entirely. It all still feels surreal, and he knows it'll take a long time for his heart to settle down. But you're here. By his side. And that's enough for now.

In fact, with you? That's enough for always.

-

Permanent Spencer tagslist:

@ssa-m-187 @reidingmelodies @cyanide-mustard @shesalatesh

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[beyondspaceandstars]

The Wounded

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader [Dating], Bucky Barnes x Reader [Platonic] Warnings: mantions of kidnapping, slight depictions of PTSD, angst Summary: After you survive a kidnapping that ends up affecting you in ways you and Steve never anticipated, you turn to Bucky for comfort leaving Steve confused and insecure. A/N: alright this is an older one I had sitting on my computer i felt like uploading but very sorry for the lack of content! I am currently dealing with finals but this is my last year so fingers crossed i’ll have more time after this! Still, please enjoy this, I remember really enjoying writing it :)

Masterlist

You shot up in bed suddenly, praying your eyes would adjust to the pitch black darkness of your bedroom fast enough to ease your brain. As your heart raced and sides ached with bruises, you took in your surroundings finally.

You were in your bed, your boyfriend Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. You knew this in your brain but your heart didn’t. It still raced relentlessly, just a haunting reminder of your latest nightmare.

The nightmares always had the same theme. They always seemed to circle back to your troubling and scarring kidnapping you had suffered just a few weeks ago. It was a devastating ploy by some equally devastating men to get to your boyfriend. The abduction didn’t last very long — just about a week in some musty, dirty cell being kicked around — but the scars it left on your brain where so much deeper than you had ever realized until recently.

The physical abuse was bad but the bruises and cuts were healing just fine. It was the mental and emotional games they played that was going to take longer to ease. The words were haunting and they followed you in every crevasse of your brain, typically leaving you running on a couple of hours a sleep. It was a cruel routine: go to bed safe and sound, find peace for two hours, wake up in a cold sweat, watch mindless TV in the common area until breakfast.

Here we go, you thought as you made your way out of the bed. Steve was still undisturbed, in a peaceful dream sleep, typically unaware of your absence. The few times he had caught on you rushed him back to bed, claiming you just wanted a midnight snack. He never questioned it but his eyes always told you he wasn’t convinced. You ignored it — you just couldn’t tell him. The guilt he carried about your kidnapping was unbelievable. You worked so hard to convince him you were alright, it wasn’t ever his fault, and that the wounds were healing because you couldn’t bare to see those eyes in such a miserable state.

It really wasn’t a total lie — the wounds were swell and you wouldn’t dare to blame him for something not in his control — but then the nightmares started. The daunting voice began chiming in. The depression… the anxiety… the fear… it all came at once so unexpectedly.

You tugged on your fluffy robe along with your slippers and made your way to the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you were stunned to see the kitchen light already on. Peaking your head in, your eyes fell on Bucky who was situated at the kitchen island  snacking on some chips.

You stared, unsure of whether you should head to the living room and venture into the kitchen. No one had ever been up with you before and if they did, they never made themselves known.

"I can feel you staring, Y/N."

Bucky’s rough voice brought you out of your ridiculous phase. You sighed and made your way to the fridge.

"What are you doing up?" You asked, grabbing a carton of vanilla ice cream along with a spoon and making your way to the island. You stood opposite of him, watching and waiting for a reply as he crunched on the chips.

"Isn’t this the time you always get up?"

His question stunned you. Holding his intense stare, you placed your spoon on the counter next to the ice cream. Suddenly, your stomach was in a knot. Maybe a part of you didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

"I just wanted a snack," You gave your go-to spiel but the ex-assassin wasn’t buying one bit of it.

"Every night?" Bucky scoffed. "Probably should eat a bigger dinner, then."

You rolled your eyes as he gave you his know-it-all smirk. You loved Bucky really —totally loved his company and all that — he had been such a great friend to you and so inviting but no matter what, without a fail, he could always pick up on anything that was off. Steve, of course, could see right through you but he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. He was gentler with you, never wanting to pry or upset you, and you were so thankful for that. But Bucky didn’t give a shit — if something was wrong he was gonna find out one way or another.

"Why are you up?" You repeated your initial question, getting a bit fed up with this now. He stalled your question and reached for more chips. You sighed in annoyance and opened the ice cream carton, digging into the creamy deliciousness.

"Something’s up with you," Bucky finally answered. His voice was a bit softer and way less cocky. Hearing someone express they saw you weren’t okay nearly had you in tears. You shoveled more ice cream in your mouth, staring down at the granite counter.

You shook your head. "Just wanted a snack."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Bucky groaned. "Come on, don’t make this hard." You placed your spoon in the carton, pushing it to the side. You fiddled with your nails as thoughts and feelings swarmed in your brain. It couldn’t hurt for someone to know, right?

"Nightmares," You spoke softly, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Just some bad nightmares."

"The kidnapping," He whispered. You saw his fists clinch at the mention of it. Your kidnapping had shocked everyone. They all had their own way of handling it but usually it was just a lot of confusion. You weren’t some hero. You didn’t have magical power or a fancy training. You were just a nurse who bandaged up the heroes when they came back. Even with dating Steve, no one expected you to be a casualty.

"It’s really messing with my brain," The words were rough to get out but once they were out there, you felt a new freedom. A weight you never realized was so heavy was being lifted so carelessly with words.

Bucky just nodded and waited for you to continue.

From then on, your nightly routine was no longer a lonesome thing. Bucky began joining you every night with snacks and a therapy session. It felt easy to talk with him about it especially since he understood. He didn’t have to pretend to know how you felt — he had felt it all, too. He got what being captive was like, how the mental manipulation went, how strong the effects of it all could be… You for once didn’t feel crazy. But most importantly — someone knew. Like really knew. And you were immensely grateful.

It seemed to be helping as well. You knew when the thoughts got rough, you could just spew it all out. You could talk about what exactly had happened to you without fear of being looked at differently. The whole thing was like breathing fresh air. You could even sometimes fall back asleep on the couch which now put your sleeping time up to four glorious hours.

The nightly chats really put your daytime spirits back up. So much so, Steve was getting a little suspicious. While he was so relieved you seemed to be doing better, the steps you took to get there were still a mystery to him and you could tell he was curious. When you’d join him in your shared room at the end of the day, he’d ask more questions about what you had done through the day. It was almost like he wanted a play-by-play and you did your best to comply.

It wasn’t until a week or so later that he started catching on to you leaving in the middle of the night. Without knowing it, he had used all his might to stay up one night to see if something was going on. You didn’t appear to be doing anything but work during the day so something must’ve been happening in the night — and that’s when his mind wandered. The thoughts of what could be helping you started to get a little unpleasant.

It was a random Tuesday night and you were on the couch with Bucky eating some pretzels. He was sitting up right while you were laying on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. You were going on about how your nightmares had gotten weaker when unexpected foot steps halted your words.

"What’s this?" The unmistakably strong voice of your boyfriend boomed through the living room. You scrambled to sit up, throwing pretzels all over the coffee table. Both stunned and unsure, you and Bucky stared at Steve. His demeanor was hard, his face unamused, and his eye said he was ready for a fight.

"Steve, babe, what-," You fumbled for your words, trying your best to reason. He hadn’t caught you two doing anything but his energy was so startling it made you unexplainably scared.

"What? What am I doing up? What are you doing up?" He marched towards the couch. Hesitantly, you stood up to face him. Bucky stayed seated, looking at you both with a slight expression of annoyance. He knew how possessive his best friend could get but this felt excessive.

"Just wanted a snack-,"

"Don’t bullshit me," Steve growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. You jumped at the harshness. Sure, you guys had had disagreements before but this was entirely new.

"I… I’m not… Steve-,"

Steve took a deep breath.

"Y/N," His voice got deeper. It was slightly too calm compared to his attitude just seconds before. "Tell me why you’re up at night sneaking around with my best friend."

"Sneaking around?!" You gasped. "Steve, that is not-,"

"OH, IT’S NOT?" Steve’s voice boomed throughout the common area. Even a watching Bucky jumped at the noise.

You quickly backed away from him, completely scared beyond belief. His eyes were harsh, his entire demeanor fuming with anger. You had never seen anything like this from him and it started to bring up the memories you worked so hard to heal from.

"Steve, man, take it down a notch…" Bucky finally stood from the couch and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve flinched back, nearly ready to throw one at Bucky, but something in him clicked. He lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths. Coming to his senses, he looked at you and saw the absolute horror on your face. He had never seen you look at him like that and it broke him into a million pieces.

"I… just… what the hell is going on?" Steve meant for it to come out nicer, but the harshness was yet to leave him and his tone. You started rubbing your hands together, a nervous tick you’ve had forever. Bucky tried to get you to stop when he noticed your movements, but Steve’s cold glare wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.

"I can’t sleep anymore," you said, breaking the silence with a much more powerful voice than you intended. You didn’t know you had the strength. "Ever since… I can’t sleep. I keep having these nightmares and Bucky’s been helping."

Steve scoffed, "Helping?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Now you were getting weary of both super soldiers.

"We sit up talking," Bucky explained. "It helps her… well both of us, really, to talk, watch TV… anything."

"And you didn’t tell me this because…?" Steve asked, pointing his attention back on you. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went down your spine as his cold gaze. You sighed, realizing the gig was up.

"God, Steve, I didn’t wanna worry you!" You exclaimed. "The last thing you need is a girlfriend with PTSD. You go through enough shit and I just didn’t wanna pile it on."

The admission sat in the air heavily around you three. Bucky looked relieve you finally said something but Steve’s eyes just held so much confusion. Personally, you felt so much weight coming off you. You thought you’d never have to tell him, assumed everything would sort itself out, but no, you finally spoke up.

"Honey," Steve sighed with sudden tears forming in his eyes. "You didn’t… You shouldn’t have done that, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, "Steve it was just so scary. I didn’t know what to do. Bucky was just there and he got it and would just sit up with me and-,"

"Alright, hon," Steve cut you off and made his way closer. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch away. "I understand and I’m glad you had someone, but I would’ve helped. I can help you, sweetheart."

"I’m sorry," You whispered as he pulled you into a hug. You threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest, letting the pent up tears flow. Steve rest his chin on your head, stroking your hair softly.

"I didn’t know you were hurting this much," he admitted.

"It’s been so fucking scary,"

Steve could almost feel his heart breaking at the sound of your voice alone. Your words just piled on so much.

"I should let you two…" Bucky began, essentially forgotten standing next to you two. You pulled away from Steve to look at him.

"Thank you, Buck," you said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry for the overreacting I just… I thought the worst, but really you probably saved my girl."

Bucky gave a small smile and patted Steve on the back. "I didn’t do anything. It’s her strength you gotta thank."

With that, he made his way to the elevator and back to his room, leaving you two still standing in an embrace in the common area. You stared up at Steve, watching his expression towards you change. What was once so scary and harsh was back to the softest man you’d ever met.

"We’ll make some calls in the morning but for now, would you come back to bed?" Steve asked. "I can’t imagine anymore nights without you."

You nodded, giving him a peck on the lips. He led you back to the shared bedroom and for once, you went to bed with a sense of hope.

[flowerypeaches]

Mothership

“What is that?”

Hero stopped their approach, a positively bored expression on their face. “What are you doing?”

Their nemesis, who was currently pointing behind Hero with an incredibly overexaggerated look of surprise, rolled their eyes, “Uh, giving you your cue?”

“My cue?”

Villain sighed loudly, dropping the egregious pose. “You're supposed to turn your head, in a suitably dramatic fashion of course, search for what I was pointing at, only for it to be revealed a ruse, granting me the opportunity to strike you unawares so I may gain the upper hand in our skirmish.”

“Mhm, and why would I fall for something so stupid?”

“Because you are stupid?”

“...”

“Ow, okay, okay!” Villain held a hand to their nose, grimacing as it came back bloody from Hero’s rather crude punch. “See, this is what I was trying to avoid. No story, no drama, no excitement. What if I let you get a few good hits in afterwards?”

Hero replied by kicking Villain’s feet out from under them, knocking them onto the cold and cracked pavement. “Looks like I’m already getting a few good hits in.” They leaned over Villain, arms crossed. “Now, are we going to actually fight, or are you going to keep trying to direct your own personal soap opera?”

Hero waited for Villain’s patented snarky response, specifically about how soap operas are a valid form of art and Hero would be wise not to disrespect it, yadda yadda, but none came. In fact, Villain wasn’t even looking at them.

“Uh, Villain? You still with me?” 

Villain’s voice was barely above a whisper, “What is that?”

“Seriously? It hasn’t even been a minute and you’re really using the sa-”

“I’m not screwing with you, Hero, there’s something in the sky!”

Hero had to admit, Villain’s acting had gotten much better in the last thirty seconds, but no matter how real it looked, they weren’t going to fall for it. Villain might be messing around now, but Hero couldn’t forget that they were a criminal, and a dangerous one at that.

They reached down, pulling Villain, who was still staring into the sky, up by their collar. “Look, I get that you never got the lead role in the school play or whatever, and want to make the world burn because of it, but could you, just this once, take our fight seriously?”

“I think it's getting closer.”

Hero ignored them, “I’m tired of the other heroes telling me I have it easy because my nemesis would rather focus on projecting their monologue to all of the hostages than actually rob the bank they broke into to begin with.” Sure, Hero was thankful Villain’s obsession with the dramatic kept them from causing too much destruction, but they had their own reputation to uphold, and constant stalemates with the theatre school reject did not help! “Let me tell you what. If you go down to the station without a fuss, then maybe I can get you into one of the nicer cell blocks. You know, the ones with the view of the hills. Does that sound good? Villain? Are you even lis-”

Blinding light filled Hero’s eyes and ears, cutting off every train of thought and any plan of action they might have had before then. They looked up, and despite the harsh light making their eyes water, they could make out the vague shape of a disc floating directly above them.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Told you.”

Hero looked back down to their nemesis, who looked much too smug for the situation at hand, and sneered, “Maybe if you didn’t insist on playing drama club, I might have actually taken you seriously.”

Villain had the courtesy to drop their grin, squinting up at the…  “Is it getting brighter?”

It was, and that meant it was too late for Hero to prevent what was about to happen. Familiar cold heat ran through their veins as their limbs locked in place.

A safety precaution.

Definitely not to prevent anyone caught in the beam from escaping.

“Hero? I-I can’t move.” Villain said.

Villain.

They shouldn’t be here.

Hero’s eyes widened, realizing just how screwed they were. They tried to relax their hands, to let go of Villain, to shove them out of the beam, anything, but only managed to twitch their muscles, as if they were encased in a steel mold.

Villain seemed to be doing the same thing, though the trembling may have just been the fear. Any other time, Hero would have loved to see Villain’s mask slip. To force them to acknowledge that, yes, Hero was a real threat to their criminal livelihood. Instead, Villain acted as if Hero was a fellow actor, asking for Hero’s thoughts on new scenes they came up with, or excitedly talking about whatever had happened in their soap that day, a neon flashing sign that indicated they were in desperate need of friends. Did… did that mean Villain thought they were friends?

Not the time.

Hero gave up on their efforts, and let the looming dread wash over them. This wasn’t acceptance, no, they were just giving themself a moment to rest before they faced what was up in the ship. Oh, they weren’t ready.

Two enemies, encircled and entrapped in an ever growing light, locked eyes. 

“We’re so f-”

And as quick as it had appeared, the burning light and mysterious ship attached to it, along with Hero and Villain, vanished into the night.

.·°·.·°·.·°·.

Light surrounded Villain. The ambient noise of the city was replaced by a low, droning hum. Any sense of direction was lost as gravity no longer affected them. They were weightless, and, even in this world of superpowers, nothing made sense. Where did the city go? Why couldn’t they move? How were they floating? The light was all-consuming, and Villain would have thought themself lost in it if not for the deathgrip Hero still had around their collar. 

Slowly, the light faded, and Villain felt their own weight return to them. Their legs wobbled, and in an instant, whatever force that held them in place disappeared. They would have fallen if not for Hero, who still held them in their grasp.

“What just happened?” Villain said, though not really expecting an explanation.

Looking around, they could see they were now in a circular, silver chamber. Dials and switches and lights and symbols dotted the walls, communicating something or other, and the floor was, what was that, carpet? Villain shuddered. Honestly, it looked a lot like a cheap sci-fi set for a tv show that should have been cancelled three seasons ago than a futuristic aircraft capable of teleporting human beings.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Villain jumped at Hero’s voice, and stumbled as their anchor let them go to run over to a wall.

Not a wall. A window.

Villain blinked.

A window that showed… Earth? No, that couldn’t be right. If they were looking at the earth, that could only mean...

“Shit, we’re already in orbit.” Hero said.

Villain blinked.

They were in space. Space. That was impossible, right? They couldn’t actually be in space. But here they were, staring at the little blue marble with their very own eyes. Was the room spinning? Or was it the spaceship?

Villain ran their hands through their hair.

They were in a spaceship. A spaceship. That was impossible, right? They couldn’t actually be in a spaceship. But here they were, having been abducted by the UFO just seconds ago. By what? Aliens?

Aliens.

Villain forced their gaze away to keep themself from spiraling, instead focusing on Hero, who has since moved on from the window to the numerous switches and lights, tapping the wall and looking at the symbols that popped up. Villain didn’t understand what Hero was trying to do, it wasn’t like they could understand what any of it meant.

Three deep breaths, and Villain made the best plan ever made in 24 seconds. They stepped up next to their nemesis.

“Hero?”

Hero’s hand was covering their mouth, muttering something to themself, and clearly not paying attention. Nevertheless, Villain continued, “Now, as much as I hate to say it, I think we may have to work together to get back on Earth.” Truth be told, in any other circumstance, Villain would have been ecstatic to work with their nemesis. Whether to defeat a worse villain or take down some other hero that had become corrupt, they would have welcomed the opportunity wholeheartedly. 

Why? Well, Villain would argue that it was more interesting, that their relationship, and subsequent fights, would have more dramatic tension. Definitely not because of any other tension that may arise from spending time together.

Villain puffed out their chest, “Lucky for you, I have decided to put aside our differences, and your lack of charisma, to take the initiative and save us both from peril. Yes, this does go against my better judgement, and yes, it may possibly be my most difficult role to date, but if it means I get to go back home in time to watch my soaps, then it’ll be worth it.”

Hero finally turned towards them, “Do you ever shut up?”

“Only for dramatic effect.” Villain said with an award-winning smile, earning an eye roll and a huff of annoyance. “So… what do you think we should do?”

“I thought you said you’d take the initiative?”

“Yes, the initiative in proposing we work together.”

“...”

Villain held up their hands, “Hey, hey, before you go punching willy nilly, why don’t you tell me what you were doing over here? Get anything useful from the flashing green triangle you were poking at?” They would have teased more, but Hero’s lack of response made them move on. “What are you thinking?”

Hero’s eyes flickered to the wall and back to Villain. “You need to leave.”

Villain blinked.

“Well, obviously we need to escape. We were abducted!”

Hero shook their head, “No, you need to leave. I’ll stay, and deal with-”

“What? And how are you going to figure out how anything works, huh? Even if you do, why wouldn’t you just come back with me?”

“It’s not that simple, I can’t re-”

A low, loud beep interrupted the enemies, and Villain turned their head in time for a wall opposite the window to open up and let someone through. Someone distinctly… humanlike. 

The person, an older woman by the looks of it, smiled brightly and opened their arms. “ .·°¯°·.·° .·°° ?”

That was distinctly not humanlike. It was like hearing someone speak through water, and an undercurrent of static scratched the inside of Villain’s ears. 

The woman—were they even a person?—walked closer, and Hero quickly stepped in front of Villain, shielding them.

She paid no mind, however, and spoke again, “ .·°¯°·.·° .·°° ,” looking expectantly at Hero, who, after a moment of hesitation, stepped forward. Her smile widened, and Villain was hit with a sense of deja vu. She pulled Hero close, and, were they hugging? Why was Hero letting her? What was happening? 

The woman whispered something to Hero, but it wasn’t like Villain could understand even if they tried. Hero turned back to Villain, giving them an apologetic smile before, “ ° .·°° ° .¯ .”

Villain’s jaw dropped.

Hero was replying to the woman. Which meant they understood her. Which meant they knew whatever language was being spoken. Which meant… which meant… Why were they abducted in the first place?

The danger presented itself fully to Villain.

They had been taken off the face of the earth by their mortal enemy, or someone who was well acquainted with them, at the very least, and had no possibility of escape. Villain considered themself clever, but trying to figure out how alien—alien!—technology worked was beyond them. They had to rely wholly on Hero, who, although Villain was loath to admit it, hated their guts. Hero could be plotting in front of Villain right now and they would be none the wiser.

Hero wouldn’t do that. Villain tried to reassure themself, because Hero wouldn’t send them off with some unknown alien being. They’d want to arrest Villain proper, right? Arrest and put them in some high security cell they’d break out of a month later. It was their thing. Villain didn’t want their thing to end.

Huh.

Villain shook their head, they’d have to examine and repress that particular line of thought later, because the woman was suddenly standing in front of them, startling Villain out of their thoughts. She reached out, clutching Villain's jaw with cold fingers, turning them this way and that. As if they were being studied. Was Villain wrong? Was Hero really getting rid of them?

“ ¯ .·°°·°¯ .” She said. Villain’s ears itched worse now that the woman was closer.

Maybe Hero thought they were doing Villain a favour, sending them off on an adventure, letting them create their own melodramatic space opera. Or maybe this was punishment for all the dated Space Trek references. Both were a possibility.

Familiar hands pulled Villain away from the woman and into Hero’s chest. They were not blushing.

“ .·° .¯°·°° !” Hero’s voice was raised, clearly upset at whatever the woman had said.

She, however, was unaffected by Hero’s outburst, gesturing between the two enemies with raised eyebrows, “ °·.°·.°¯°·. .” 

Hero shook their head, and Villain felt Hero’s grip tighten ever so slightly, “ °·.°¯ .·°°·.°°¯ .”

A strange noise came from the woman, sounding almost like… bubbles? It was clearer than the other times she spoke, and it was the way she moved that made Villain realize it was a laugh. She was laughing at Villain. Or Hero. Both?

Hero’s hands were shaking, and Villain couldn’t tell if it was with anger or fear. 

“ ·° .·° .” Hero was curt with her, and Villain recognized the tone from when they threatened to blow up City Hall. The tone that preceded their fights.

The woman seemed to recognize the tone as well, as she backed off a little, holding her hands up in a placating way. She gave Villain a small wave before nodding at Hero, “ ·.°.°¯°°¯° .· .·° .” and left, the wall closing up behind her.

The pair stood in silence.

Hero let go of Villain, letting them step away. Except, they didn’t. In fact, they did nothing of the sort. Villain spun on their heels and stepped forward, “What on ear–ugh, what just happened?”

“There, um, might be a slight problem.”

“Slight problem? You call this”—Villain gestured wildly around them, narrowly avoiding hitting Hero in the face—”a slight problem?”

Hero leaned away from Villain, avoiding their eyes.

“Care to explain? Anything? At all?”

“Where do I start?”

Villain’s theatrics, for once, wasn’t uncalled for. “Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that we were abducted? That we are in space? Or, or!” Villain backed off, giving themself room to pace around the circular room and project their panic to an audience of one, “That there is an alien speaking to you, Hero, in an alien language, because no human could actually sound like that, acting like she knows you, and you, you reply to her? As if you know her too?”

“Yeah, that would be my… mother.”

“Your mother.”

Hero nodded.

“Your mother who lives in a spaceship. Who speaks an alien language.”

“Who is an alien.”

“Who is an alien.” It took a good second for the words to sink in. “Your mother is an alien?! Like, an alien from an alien planet?”

Hero nodded again.

Villain felt their brain short-circuit. “Does that mean…”

“That I’m an alien from an alien planet? Yes.”

Villain felt lightheaded. This was okay. This was manageable. This world-shattering, insane truth of the universe was perfectly manageable, and they were not going to spiral, not for one second. Deep breaths. One… two… three… Villain stopped pacing, facing Hero with the calmest expression the latter had ever seen on the former. “Okay, so now that you’ve had your nice little family reunion, we can go back, right?”

Hero’s face was a cross between a smile and a wince.

Villain’s expression twitched, but held firm, “And why not?”

“Well, my mother-”

“The alien.”

Hero tried not to get annoyed, but damn, did Villain make it hard. “Yes, my mother the alien. She, erm,” They groaned, covering their face with their hands, “She may have made a fundamental mistake about the nature of our relationship.”

“And what mistake would that be?” Villain grit their teeth.

“She may, perhaps, think that, we’re… dating.”

“Louder, Hero. Speak so everyone in the audience can hear you.”

“She thinks we’re dating!”

Villain blinked, completing the rule of thirds and simultaneously breaking their composure. So much for not spiraling. “Dating?” Their voice squeaked.

“Dating,” Hero nodded, “And-”

“There’s more?!” Villain turned away, back to pacing and practically pulling their hair out from the absurdity.

“And, the reason we can’t leave yet is because she invited us to dinner.”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no no no.

“What’s wrong? I thought you loved drama.” Hero said, failing to lighten the mood. “Aren’t family confrontations and misunderstandings the bread and butter of soap operas?”

“My love of drama left me when we left the atmosphere.” Villain glared at Hero with enough ferocity to start a fire.

Villain walked up to the walls, flicking the switches and turning the dials, to see if, miraculously, they could make the ship go back to the city. The lights blinked mockingly in response.

“Uh, Villain?”

“There doesn’t happen to be an escape pod on this ship, does there?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“We’re really going to have to do this, aren’t we?” Villain said, turning to face their nemesis.

“Unfortunately yes.”

Two enemies, both flushed head to toe from frustration and embarrassment, locked eyes.

And Villain, lover of monologues and soliloquies, came up with the most profound, most thought-provoking line they could think of.

“We’re so fucked.”

Hero was inclined to agree.

[nejibaby]

The Sun

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

Summary: If there’s two things common between you and Icarus, they’re 1) you both tried to get too close to the sun, and 2) you’re both mortal — vulnerable and susceptible to the pain that comes with it.

This is initially intended to be the second part of Burn, but this can also be considered a standalone fic. 😊

[I also tweaked the story of Icarus and Daedalus a little bit so they can fit the One Piece universe. Hope you don’t mind.]

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: So you see I’m trying out this new writing style, but I’m not sure if it turned out how I wanted it to be. But please let me know your thoughts about it~

Icarus.

Back when you still lived in your hometown, as a child, you have grown to like the tales of sailors who docked at your island. There’s this story about one of the first ever heard of uses of devil fruit powers.

It’s about a master craftsman named Daedalus imprisoned in some far away kingdom with his son, Icarus. With their cell up high in the castle and the ground filled with guards, there was no means to escape for an average person. But Daedalus was all sorts of things other than average; he’s a father, a genius, and a devil fruit user of the Doru Doru no Mi. And because of those, he has found a way to get out of the kingdom through something that only he can make: wings made out of candle wax.

“Don’t fly too close to the sun or else the heat will melt the wax and you’ll fall into the sea.” A fair warning from Daedalus to Icarus as he handed a pair of wings to his son, who only nodded in response.

Their escape went on without a hitch with the help of the wings. However, because of the delectable taste of freedom, the further away they had gone from the kingdom that constricted them, the more precarious Icarus got. He flew higher and higher and higher, until his wings started melting. And only when he was falling to the sea did he notice that the wings had melted off completely. Even Daedalus had noticed it too late, and all he could’ve done was lament for his son who didn’t heed his words.

“It was tragic,” the sailor once told you. But all you could ever think about back then was that Icarus was dumb. Foolish. Idiotic. Stupid. Moronic.

Why would he fly higher when he knew the risks? It just didn’t make sense. There was no rational explanation, no sensible justification for it.

But now that you’re older, you might have found a possible reason why he did what he did.

Maybe, just like you, he fell in love with the sun.

The Sun.

Icarus might have fallen in love with the sun. But who are you to judge him? The sun is bright, brilliant, warm, and enticing. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be guided by its light, to bask in its warmth, to ever so gently be caressed by its flames. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be nearer, despite the repercussions.

You can’t call him out because you did just the same. Ace was — no — is your sun.

With his charming and boyish smile that’s always capable of cheering you up, you can mistake him as the light. He’s like the sun peeking from the clouds after a stormy day, or the sun rising after the darkest night.

In his embrace, no matter how momentary, anyone would be able to feel his care. Hell, even with his arm slung over your shoulder or his mere presence beside you, you would feel a sense of security. Because Ace is also the warmth and the comfort. Pretty much like the gentle rays of the sun enveloping you with a blanket after a cold breeze.

But you also know that like the sun, he too is dangerous. The least he can do is to burn you. And at the very worst, he could be destructive.

The Fall.

When Icarus got too close to the sun, his wings melted and naturally, he fell into the sea. There were no stories about how he felt or what was in his mind when it happened, but recently you’d like to imagine that he was content.

Falling is scary, that much is true. But falling can also be exhilarating and thrilling — it’s feeling only your weightlessness, the breathlessness, the adrenaline flowing through your blood.

You’d like to think that as Icarus fell, his thoughts were about how he did not regret what he did. In the end, he got his freedom and then he made a brave choice of going after his love. Isn’t it better to have felt the burning light than never at all? Isn’t it better to have a taste of love albeit briefly?

You’re no Icarus. You’re not a child of a genius, and you have no wings that’ll melt once you get close to your sun. But for you, the answer to these questions is yes.

You’re grateful to have experienced being by Ace’s side. You’re happy to have seen his smiles and to have heard his laughs. You’re content to have been the recipient of his sparing touches.

And as you ran with bloodied hands and injured parts after escaping from the Blackbeard Pirates, you’re pleased that it was you in this predicament and not Ace. He’s safe and it’s because of you. And despite standing face to face with death just moments ago, you’re delighted because you accomplished your mission to get information about their plans.

If there’s one thing you and Icarus should regret though, it’s being vulnerable and susceptible to pain.

The Reunion.

Icarus did not live long enough to be reunited with the sun. But you did. Your body might have been littered with scars now, but the important thing is that you survived. You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re at peace.

And you’re back with the Whitebeard Pirates.

Whitebeard, the Division Commanders, and the former members of the Spade pirates are quick to reprimand you for your rash actions once you board the ship. You listen to their sentiments quietly, understanding the severity of your decision, but you stand by your ground, telling them you didn’t regret doing it, especially since you’ve gotten valuable information about Blackbeard. And once you’ve relayed everything to them, they all quickly let you off the hook.

All except one, of course.

You’re just about to retire to your room when Ace softly asks, “Yo, can we talk?” once you pass him by.

The sun is always so inviting. It’s capable of luring you out of whatever cave you’re hiding in. That’s the aura Ace gives off when you turn to look at him. So you nod your head and follow him to a more private area on the ship.

At this moment, you can’t help but think that the sun and the planets are bound by the laws of science. Science tells us that planets orbit around the sun because of attraction, however, they must never cross the line. This has been your mistake in the past, but now you know better. And so now you try to physically distance yourself from him.

Ace doesn’t comment on the distance. You aren’t sure if he even noticed. Instead he asks, “Why did you do it?”

You raise your brow, “We wanted information, right?”

“I was the one who should’ve been doing that. I’m his Commander. I’m the one who’s supposed to be responsible for that.”

You scoff. “It’s done now, let’s not dwell on it anymore—”

“But you could’ve died!”

“So what? Would you rather it was you? Because I don’t! If you died… if you died…” you choked back a sob. You didn’t want to think about him dying. Just the thought of it is enough to tug your heartstrings.

The sight of you softens him up right away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he tries soothing you. “I’m not gonna die.”

“You say that, but even the sun will die eventually. And I don’t want to witness that tragedy.”

This shuts Ace up. He didn’t really understand how much he matters to you until now. Seeing you crumble with just the thought of him dying makes him realize that your confession to him before the two of you parted was indeed the truth. “You’re right. I’m sorry…”

You could only bite your lip to calm yourself down.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking when you were away…” Ace murmurs. “And my thoughts were always about you.”

You gulp as your heart rate accelerates. Will he be turning you down properly this time? Give you the confirmation and closure that you need?

If you focus on your thoughts, you can hear a chant in your head: The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love.

But you reason, that’s okay. The sun is bound by the laws of science and one of its main purposes for its existence is to provide light. And you will not hold Ace back from doing that. If he doesn’t love you, it’s fine, you’ll be fine.

“I thought… you didn’t like me,” Ace says.

This statement catches your attention immediately. You’re about to object but he continues, “Because you always called me ‘Captain’ and then ‘Commander,’ and never by my name. And I thought that that was you drawing the line between us.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not good at these things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

But you remain tense, trying to comprehend what’s happening.

Ace takes a small step toward you.

And you couldn’t help but think that if Ace gets closer, you’ll burn once again.

Yet you watch with wide eyes, not stopping him as he gets closer and closer and closer.

At this point you can only hear how wildly your heart is beating across your chest.

And when Ace raises his hand to tenderly touch your cheek, you realize: The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.

Which could only mean one thing: his focus has always been on you.

“I love you, my angel,” Ace whispers as he presses his forehead against yours. “I’m in love with you,” and he seals his admission with a kiss.

[sunder-soul]

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Chapter Two: He’s very, very beautiful. Black hair in tidy waves, dark, hooded eyes lined with sooty lashes, full lips, angled jaw, and all his fine features illuminated by the glow from the pub behind you. If you’d met him anywhere else you might have blushed, but here, now, you have to resist the urge to arch a brow. Wordcount: 2.3k Content warning: language, allusions to bigotry.

Story Tags: @crazytwentythrees

Permanent Tags: @jujugentle @weirdowithnobeardo @pearlstiare @fromthehellmouth @whoevenfrickenknows @moatsnow @voidmalfoy @lucys-brain @sunles @arana-alpha @tallyovie @expectoscamander @nothinghcppens @itsjustfics @mikariell95 @suicide-sweetheart636 @toasterking

McCollin slams the Records Room logbook down on your desk and you nearly jump out of your skin. “I told you to drop it,” he says coolly.

Your initials are scribbled on the page half a dozen times over the past two weeks. You look up at him wide-eyed. “I…”

“You were only supposed to watch that stupid trial once,” he interrupts, eyes hard.

“Look, I’ve found stuff, McCollin! Merope Gaunt? She ran away with Tom Riddle, for Christs’ sake, they got married and everything! That’s why Morfin was talking about her in his trial!”

He falters, brow furrowing. “How did you find out that –”

“I’ve been doing some work on the case – off hours,” you add hastily at his expression, “and look, I know you said it was pretty cut and dry, but in that whole trial no one actually asks him why he did it –”

McCollin laughs a little unkindly. “No one asked him why he did it? Do you hear yourself? Didn’t you just say his sister married a Muggle?”

“Yeah but she died ages ago,” you say desperately, leaning forward.

“Why does that matter?”

“Morfin was released from Azkaban in ’28 and came home to find his sister gone. He lived right around the corner from those Muggles, McCollin, so why did he wait fifteen years to kill them?”

McCollin gives you a deeply sceptical look. “Your problem is that he didn’t kill them sooner?”

“My problem is there’s no reason that he didn’t kill them sooner!” you correct. “If he’s really such a nutcase, why did it take him that long to get revenge on the Riddles?”

“Maybe he didn’t know who she’d run off with until then,” he shrugs.

“Then how did he suddenly find out in ‘43?”

McCollin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, kiddo, I’m gonna do you a favour. I’ll let all this slide if you drop this thing now and stop letting it distract you.”

You gape at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“But I’ve found –!”

“I don’t care what you’ve found, I need you to do your job,” McCollin snaps, waving at your desk. “So some pure-blood nutter murdered some Muggles because his sister ran off with one of ‘em, what in Merlin’s name is so hard to understand about that?”

“She had a kid with him!” you hiss.

He hesitates again. “You found a birth certificate?”

“No, but she died in a Muggle orphanage and was buried in the pauper’s yard, what do you think happened?”

McCollin, for the first time, looks somewhat doubtful. “Case never mentioned a kid…” he says slowly.

Hope sparks in your chest. “And where was Tom Riddle whilst his wife died in childbirth, huh? Where did the kid end up? Did Morfin know about them? Did Riddle even know?”

McCollin exhales a very fatigued sigh. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you.”

“No,” you say immediately.

“If you figure this out, will you get back to your actual job?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

You’re on the edge of your seat. “I promise.”

He grits his teeth. “Merlin… fine. What do you need?”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You hate Azkaban. The place is dark and cold and dripping wet, the dementors never stay quite far enough away, and the screams and sobs of the prisoners within the black stone stick in your heart for weeks afterwards.

“In and out,” McCollin mutters, pulling off his hat and casting the dementor beside you an aspersing look. “Five minutes, kiddo, and then we’re gone.”

You nod quickly and step down the long, dark corridor, peering at the parchment in your hand and checking it against the cell numbers scratched into the stone on either wall. You find him around the corner. Cell 75191.

You lift your lit wand, squinting into the darkness. “Morfin…?”

There’s the faint clinking of chains and then a skin-crawling hiss that makes your heart clench in fear, followed by a rasping, phlegmy cackle.

“Morfin Gaunt?” you try again, catching sight of movement in the corner of the cell, a figure hunched there.

He only hisses again.

“I don’t speak Parseltongue, Mr Gaunt,” you say with a forced calm, “I’m here to talk about the Riddles.”

Morfin spits at the ground. “Riddles,” he growls. “Fucking Riddles, fucking filthy Muggle Riddles in their filthy stinking house, got what was coming didn’t they? Got what they deserved in the end –”

“You knew about Merope and Tom Riddle, didn’t you, Mr Gaunt?” you interrupt, hands shaking in the aching cold. You bury your non-wand hand in your pocket in vain – the chill of the prison is all-permeating.

“Filthy Riddle… filthy scumsucker…”

“Why did you kill the Riddles in 1943?”

He barks a hideous laugh. “Muggle scum they were, had it coming, saw the light leave their eyes at the end of a wand like was intended, not my sister, not my family –”

“Why did you wait, Mr Gaunt?”

There’s silence. Your heart thrums nervously.

“You got home in 1928 but you didn’t kill the Riddles until 1943… Why didn’t you kill them sooner?” you press carefully.

Morfin doesn’t reply for a moment, and then – “Muggle scum,” he mutters a little dolefully.

“Yes but what changed?” you say, patience fraying a bit. “What changed in 1943? Did something happen?”

“Scourge of the earth… got to get rid of ‘em all, that Grindelwald fellow had the right idea, get rid of ‘em –”

There’s a sound like a heavy door closing in the distance and you’re suddenly very aware that you don’t have a lot of time left. “Did you know about Merope’s child?” you ask pressingly.

Morfin descends into a coughing fit and spits what sounds like a hefty wad of mucus onto the floor of his cell. “Knew it,” he says darkly, “I knew it, that slut…”

“You knew?”

“Looked just like him, didn’t he?” he snarls.

“Who?” you say at once.

“He looked just like that nasty, filthy, disgusting Muggle… Well, they’re all dead now.” He laughs nastily again. “Rotting in the ground where they belong, Muggle scum…”

You can hear McCollin calling for you but your head is spinning. He waited… he waited fifteen years…

If Merope’s son had been born at the end of ’26, he would have been sixteen in July of ’43.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“I know why he waited,” you breathe to McCollin the second you’re back in the safety of the Ministry.

“Why?”

“I know why he waited to kill the Riddles – Merope’s son came to find him – maybe he was looking for his family, he probably grew up in that orphanage – he really did only find out about her kid in ’43 and it made him snap and –”

“Slow down,” McCollin frowns, hand on your shoulder. “What are you saying?”

“You have to get me access to Morfin’s memory of that day,” you say intensely.

His face and his hand fall in unison. “You said that if I got you in to see Morfin, you’d let it go,” he says sharply.

“I know but Jesus McCollin! Shouldn’t we find her son?”

“This is getting out of hand,” he mutters, turning and walking off across the huge entrance hall.

“Please,” you say, following him. “Please! I –”

“No,” he says flatly.

“But –!”

“What, you want to watch murders now?”

“McCollin, just listen –”

“I’m serious, drop it,” he drawls, stepping into an elevator and turning to point at you. “I don’t wanna hear you say the name Riddle again.”

The elevator dings, the door slides shut on McCollin’s serious face, and you sigh in frustration.

“Riddle?”

Your head lifts in surprise. The voice had come from beside you, a very formally-dressed old man with curated grey hair, gold glasses, and a haughty expression. “Yes, sir…?” you ask slowly.

“Ah yes, a real shame, all that,” the man sighs, looking up at the elevators expectantly.

You blink. You recognise the man from around the Ministry, but you can’t think of a single conceivable reason why a senior member of the International Confederation of Wizards knows the name of a Muggle murdered eight years ago. “…Yes, it was.”

“Such a waste,” he shakes his head sagely. “He could have gone far.”

You don’t know what to say. “You’re… you’re talking about Tom Riddle, sir…?”

“Yes, of course,” the man titters, “Slughorn recommended him to me personally – assured me he’d go far. A real talent, he said.”

Something is definitely not right, but the man’s elevator dings and he steps inside at once, expensive robes swirling as he turns. “To end up in Knockturn Alley of all places,” he sighs, “and to think... the boy could have been Minister for Magic one day.”

The doors shut before your gobsmacked face.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“So let me get this straight,” Mori says lowly, setting down another drink for you. “You think the kid’s here? In Knockturn Alley?”

“I think so,” you murmur as Mori takes your empty glass away. “Either that or some poor schmuck with the exact same name as a murdered Muggle is walking around completely unrelated to all this shit.”

“Have you found anything on the kid?”

You nod blankly. “Looked up the name and found a ton of stuff straight away – star pupil at Hogwarts, won a ton of awards, Prefect, Head-boy –”

“Sounds like a square,” Mori snorts.

“He fell off the map a bit after school,” you frown, leaning forward on your forearms. “Found an address from a few years back but doesn’t seem up-to-date. The guy definitely mentioned Knockturn Alley though, so –”

“If you told me a name, I’ll probably know him.”

You shoot him a nervous look. “I dunno, Mori, I’m really pissing McCollin off with this already. If he finds out I’m leaking names –”

“Well I’ll tell you this for free, no one down this way’ll take kindly to someone in Ministry robes poking their nose around,” he says darkly.

You sigh and take a sip from your drink. “I know.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You leave just past midnight, giving Mori a wave as you grab your cloak and head for the door, already reaching for your wand to Apparate as you push it open –

You walk straight into someone. “Oh,” you exclaim, stepping back. “I'm so sorry.”

“Not at all.”

You look up at the voice in surprise, smooth and pleasant and velvety. The face behind it is even better; he’s very, very beautiful. Black hair in tidy waves, dark, hooded eyes lined with sooty lashes, full lips, angled jaw, and all his fine features illuminated by the glow from the pub behind you as he pushes the door wide and holds it for you, stepping aside with a polite twist to his lips to let you out first.

If you’d met him anywhere else you might have blushed, but here, now, you have to resist the urge to arch a brow. He’s not exactly what you’d normally expect from customers of Moribund’s.

“Thank you,” you say evenly, stepping past him and rather theatrically hoping he’s not some sort of pretty-faced creature that would strike when your back’s turned –

“You’re from the Ministry?”

You hesitate. His question was perfectly curious and well-warranted – the purple robes you were still wearing were also not what one might normally expect from customers of Moribund’s. “I am,” you say quietly, pulling out your wand.

“Are you here on business or for pleasure?” he smiles a little. It makes him even more beautiful. It makes you more suspicious.

“A bit of both,” you say truthfully, thinking of your conversation with Mori.

“Rather strange for someone of your profession to patron a place like this,” says the young man, head tilting a fraction.

You hesitate for a moment, but if he intends on giving you trouble, it feels like a good idea to establish that you have people looking out for you around here. “I’m friends with the barman.”

“In which case it's odd I’ve not seen you more, then,” he says very smoothly, the little twist to his lips returning, “since I’m something of a regular.”

But you’ve had quite enough. “You’re letting the warmth out,” you say politely, inclining your head at the door he’s still holding open as you lift your wand. “Enjoy your drinks.”

“Would you care to join me?”

You hesitate, eyes flicking back to the young man. His head is still tilted slightly as he watches you, and suddenly you can’t tell if the curl to his lips is more attractive or unnerving.

“I’d very much like the company,” he smiles, white, straight teeth, too handsome, too gorgeous.

Alarm bells are going off in your head. Too smarmy. He knows he’s beautiful, that much was certain, and something about him is giving you the creeps in a way that feels strangely familiar. Like you’ve met him before. “No,” you say clearly, “but thanks for the invitation.”

“Ah, I should have known that someone like you would already be spoken for,” he says with a knowing nod, charming and good-natured.

“No,” you frown. You can’t tell what’s rubbing you the wrong way about him, but there’s something.

His brow lifts slightly, like your response surprised him. “Not a fan of the drink, then?”

You snort a light laugh. “No, I am.”

There’s a beat of silence. “An early morning, perhaps?” the young man says just as lightly – though there’s a very faint edge to his expression that you clock at once. He can’t figure out why you’ve rejected him. What an arrogant asshole…

You sigh a bit shortly, liking him less by the second. “Goodnight,” you say pointedly, trying to lift your wand again but –

“Have I offended you somehow, madam?” he asks, sounding slightly amused. “If I have it wasn’t my intention to do so.”

You shoot him a look that is unapologetically annoyed. “You haven’t offended me, you’ve disrespected me,” you say curtly.

His eyes sparkle, his lips curl even more. “By asking you to join me for a drink?”

“By refusing to take my answer graciously,” you retort smoothly, “I said no. I don’t appreciate being cajoled.”

Some of the humour dissipates from his face, and you seize the opportunity to escape.

“Goodnight.”

And you lift your wand in a swift motion and vanish before he can interrupt again.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Reply/message me to get added to the tag list! 💖

[sylverstorms]

Miranda x Mia---- Eternal

A Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @saltwatereulogies. Thank you so very much for the support and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Drip. Splatter.

The first sound you’re aware of is that of the occasional waterdrop crashing onto the same humid, uneven floor you’re lying on.

The second is the sound of her voice.

“Rise and shine.” she says, somewhere off to the side. You are still too disoriented to pinpoint exactly where.

You’re not dizzy enough, though, to not immediately realize you’re trapped. The way the light behind your captor shines makes it all the more obvious, casting large shadows in the shape of your prison bars across your small, moldy cell.

“Y-you…” you struggle to talk. Your throat is too dry and your temples pound like a war drum. It feels like you’ve collided with a truck. And yet her voice commanding you to sleep is the last thing you remember.

“I haven’t formally introduced myself. Though I’m sure your friend has told you about me.”

You blink to make your vision focus yet it’s hopeless. She is but a dark blur to you –am I hallucinating or are those wings?

“My name is Miranda.”

Suddenly, that name snaps everything into focus so sharply you could get whiplash. You’re on your knees the next second, just about ready to leap at her. She’s the one. The one Chris warned you about. She may look like an angel but she is a devil.

“I don’t care who the hell you are! What do you want from me?!” you demand.

“Your cooperation in my experiments, for starters.” she says it calmly, but she is no fool to believe you’ll just agree to that, you can see it in her crystal-blue eyes.

“Ha! As if!” you retort.

“Well. That answer will change when I have Rose.” The name of your daughter makes every nerve ending in your body kick at once.

“What. Like Ethan will just hand her over to the likes of you?”

“Actually.”

A slow smirk crosses her full lips. Then their shape changes to match yours. All of her does, until you are left looking at a perfect mirror of yourself. Only, there’s no way you look quite that good inside of this shitty cell.

“He’ll hand her over to you.”

When she laughs, it is your own voice haunting your ears.

-

-

She has your daughter. She has your everything in her hands. So, she has your cooperation, as well.

Miranda doesn��t really talk when she comes to collect blood samples for whatever experiments she needs them. Your initial cries and questions were muted the second she told you the more helpful and less annoying you are, the more inclined she’ll feel to bring Rose to you for a while.

In the end, you do let yourself be her docile little lab rat.

Until you literally can’t take the silence anymore.

“Was it really… that easy?” ‘To enter my home and take my daughter’ you want to add but you can’t even get the words past your throat.

She seems to understand, though. “Effortless.” she isn’t being cocky as she says it. In fact, she seems almost surprised herself. At least, from the angle you get of her face, while she’s studying a strange rock-like substance under a microscope.

“How the hell did Ethan not figure out you aren’t me?!” That moron. He just gave your daughter to her. That clueless moron!

For a split second, you see her lip twitch in what could, perhaps, be a withheld smile. “I was there for a day, so. Seems like your husband doesn’t know you quite that well.”

Is it really fair to blame him for not knowing you, though? With the secrets you’ve kept from him? The distance? The trauma from the shared nightmare you experienced coming back to you every time you even looked at him?

God, Rose really is the only thing that kept you together, isn’t she…

It’s easy to hate the accursedly beautiful bitch outside your cell. It’s easy to blame Ethan for not even suspecting something was amiss with you for a whole damn day.

It is not so easy to blame yourself as much as you do them.

-

-

Miranda replies when you ask her things, so you ask her about herself. To your surprise, she does not shroud her motives from you.

She has lost her daughter, she tells you, and the only way to get her back is through yours. For the first time since you met her, you see emotion clearly expressed in her eyes and voice. You recognize how she longs to be with her child again.

You can understand the never-ending grief of a mother losing her offspring. You know if anything happened to Rose you would rather fling yourself off a cliff than live a life without her.

And apparently, that is what she tried to do, too. She tried to die –and discovered life instead. That is what she calls it, anyway. All you can hear as she explains is that she found –and founded— the Mold. The same one that ruined your husband and you.

One more reason to hate the psycho witch.

And yet.

When you try to reach for the rage you previously held for her, you find that it’s gone. You’re bitter, you’re exhausted, you want to cry and above everything you want to see Rose again. But you don’t loathe her as you should.

“What do you mean… the only way to get Eva back is through Rose?” you dare ask after several minutes of silence.

She turns to look at you, eyes as piercing as they are blue. “Technically, the trade is simple.” Maybe you’re losing it from the stress and lack of sleep, but you think she almost hesitates for a second. “…a life for a life.”

As soon as she speaks and the meaning of her words registers in your mind, you’re gripping at the rusty iron bars with all your might, rattling them, shouting profanities at her. You are back to hating her all over again. It’s much simpler this way.

Until… she walks over and grabs your hand over the metal. Her touch is oddly warm for such a glacial heart. You cannot tell what she does to you, but it feels like an aura flowing through your system that silences you. Calms you. You do not want to be calm.

“I wasn’t finished.” she speaks. “That is where the experiments with you come in. By running tests on your blood and Rose’s and using my DNA as a medium, during the ritual I can trick the Megamycete into giving me what I want through a form of mitosis. Essentially, cell duplication that will not override the existing vessel.”

To be honest… you lost her midway through the very first sentence. You were quite good with biology back in the day but right now, in the state you’re in, science is going right over your head.

“...Is there an English version of that.” you ask.

Her mouth curves into that almost-smile again. It would be quite gorgeous, actually, if she hadn’t kidnapped you, infiltrated your home as you and abducted your daughter.

“If the tests succeed, you get your daughter back, I get mine from cloned DNA and Mold cells.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice as she says it.

And now, assuming she’s telling the truth, you want those tests to succeed more than you want to get out of here. Her hand leaves yours and the weird calm she blasted into you dissipates with it.

“Wait. So…” Realization strikes you like a thunderclap. “So these tests are for me?”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you, you crazy b—blonde.” You rattle the iron bars again, a tad weaker than before. She does smirk over the microscope, this time. “How likely are the tests to succeed?” you ask impatiently.

“Quite.” she replies, flat once again.

“…And if they don’t?” you hate how your voice shakes there, at the end.

She looks at you, dead in the eyes, as she answers: “I am getting my daughter back either way, Mia.”

You can’t believe it. You cannot believe you’re thinking this, but you hope the crazy bitch knows what she’s doing.

-

-

Miranda is… despicable, but she is a woman of her word.

She brings you Rose for hours at a time and in exchange you help her outside of your cell. You thought your daughter would be in a worse condition, considering who keeps her, yet she’s healthy as ever, well-fed and clean. The worst part is, she laughs every time Miranda comes close and she even reaches out for her.

“No, my darling, don’t do that.” you tell her, tucking her tighter in your arms, before the woman behind you notices what’s happening.

Except it’s too late. “Ah, I see.” Miranda speaks, coming up to you from behind. She’s tall enough to lean over your shoulder and wave at Rose, who moves both hands towards her. “A lady of taste.” the woman praises and the lightness to her voice almost makes her sound like someone else. Someone normal.

“Stop it.” You turn your child away from her. “She’s just confused because you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.” You motion with your chin at her getup.

Miranda chuckles. “What. She senses our bond. Rose feels safe with me.”

Safe with the monster who wants to sacrifice her to get her own child back. You cannot swallow that thought down. “But she’s not, is she?!” you snap.

“She is.” Miranda reverts to her cool facade, glancing down at your daughter. “I will never let anything hurt her. And when she gives me Eva back, I will make sure she grows up bathed in luxury.”

It’s the Mold, you’re sure of it.

It’s the Mold’s fault that you believe her.

-

-

You were supposed to see Rose today. Instead, Miranda comes into the cave alone, looking irritated. You start to worry. Nothing phases her without a good reason. What if—

“Where’s my daughter?!” you demand, eyes wide.

“We have a problem.” she tells you. Your blood goes cold in your veins. “A problem named Ethan Winters.”

“Ethan?” you gasp.

“He is trying to get Rose back and according to reports from the Lords under me, he cannot be killed. His hand got cut off and he just reattached it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” she’s certain that you know. You can see it in her steely eyes.

“I— why would I—”

“Before you think to lie to me, hear something else. I bear good news, as well.” Miranda says. “I have succeeded in my experiments. During the ritual, I can guarantee Rose will remain unharmed and unchanged.” the edge of her lip curls up as she delivers the news. You almost cry from the sheer relief.

You almost leap forward and hug her, yet you remember who she is and that she caused this mess in the first place.

“But my conditions have changed.” her voice is a sword that cuts off your happiness just like that. You knew it was too good to be true. “For me to save Rose, you will tell me how to permanently get rid of Ethan Winters.”

…What?

She wants you to… trade your daughter for your husband? How the hell can I do that?!

“He has ruined too much for me to let him walk away happily now.” Her jaw is tight enough to sprout new lines on her flawless face. She wants him dead and she always gets what she wants. “He has killed colleagues of mine. Spat in the face of a damn-near god. I will have his head.”

The corners of your eyes sting with welling tears. Your body is far more honest than you in making a decision. Nobody is too important to sacrifice when it comes to your daughter. Not yourself. Not Ethan. And Miranda knows this better than anybody else. You loathe how she knows.

“Give him to me, Mia. And in a few days this whole thing will be over.” she continues in a significantly softer tone, getting closer to you. Her wings shift, the very edge of black feathers brushing your arms.

“You want me to aid in killing the father of my child?!” you sob, grabbing at her clothes. You’d expect her to shove you away, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.

“You have been so cooperative and so brave.” she soothes, gold-taloned fingers coming underneath your chin. “Make one last sacrifice for me. Help me murder Ethan so Rose can live. Help me and I vow to be her eternal guardian angel. Hers and yours.”

She could just force the answer out of you. She’s touching you and you know she has that power. But she doesn’t do it and it’s far worse this way. She wants it to be your choice.

You look away from Miranda’s icy eyes and her promises of everything.

And you tell her.

-

-

You do not ask about Ethan. All that’s in your mind is the ceremony.

For the entire morning, you cannot breathe. You trace notes in her lab and pace around until you literally feel like you’ll explode—

And then Miranda comes in. She is radiant, smiling from ear to ear, glowing with pure joy. She looks every part the goddess she pretends to be. The golden circle usually adorning her back is gone, her long blonde hair is left free to flow like fine strands of silk past her square shoulders.

“It is done!” she tells you, a hand extended for you to take. “Come. I’ll take you to Rose and you will be the first to meet Eva.”

Her hand is warm when it closes around yours. Black wings shroud you both. There is a gravitational pull around you that’s so intense you shut your eyes and grab onto her biceps for dear life.

“You can look, now.” she speaks once the world is stable again. Your gut is churning, yet every bit of exhaustion and discomfort vanish the second you see Rose. She is safe within the first of the two golden cribs in front of you, bathed by the soft sunlight that disperses across the luxurious, dark-tiled chamber you’re in.

You run towards her, lifting your daughter in your arms and kissing her forehead over and over. She laughs at you, blue eyes crinkled. My love. My everything, you think. Everything was worth it for this moment. And you would do it all again, to ensure her safety.

Miranda’s steps, regal and authoritative, come to a stop near the other crib. You lean closer, take a look… to see another little angel there, sleeping peacefully. She resembles Rose, yet she resembles Miranda, too.

“Oh my God.” you breathe. “You really did it.”

“I did it and you and Rose made it possible, Mia.” she says. Your child extends a tiny hand towards her. She removes one of her claws and lets her finger be taken in your baby’s grip. “You don’t have to leave. She loves me already.” A proud smile curves her lips.

You hate how it looks like a sunrise.

You hate it even more that you understand why Rose is so charmed.

“Her mom can grow to love me, too.” Crystal eyes look into your own. “There is no place safer than by my side. Stay and we will raise them together. You won’t have to fear disease or death with me. You and Rose will have every little thing you could ever want. Forever.”

You don’t want your child to be co-patented by this selfish megalomaniac, who is the killer of her father. But. Then you stop to consider what you have been through until now. Nightmare after nightmare; this vicious cycle does not look like it will be broken. One thing or another will haunt you and hunt you wherever you go. You don’t want that life for Rose.

You won’t accept that life for Rose.

“…we will stay. But you can forget that part about me growing any fonder of you than I am now.”

Miranda nods, but something in her expression is so damn cocky you want to smack her. “Oh, what’s that, Rose? You can tell your mother is lying, too? My genius girl.”

Your jaw drops. She is my genius girl!

Miranda then touches your chin and tilts it up. You don’t want to be any closer to the gorgeous fucking witch, but when she stops there, hovering just over your mouth for a skipped heartbeat, looking down at you with those crystalline eyes of hers, you’re paralyzed.

Her lips slide over your own for just one slick, hot second. When she pulls back, she caresses Rose’s cheek and winks at you.

“I hate you.” you say, yet it holds no real bite. God, you’re exhausted.

“That’s alright. We have all the time in the world to change that.”

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 1

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully this is a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, loss of virginity, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

The ebony black doors swung open, then were quickly slammed shut again. You heard the lock click, and lifted your head from where you lay sprawled on the floor, chained to the wall by one ankle.

Early that morning, before sunup, you’d been dragged to The Little Palace from the prison where you’d been locked in a cell for several days. And chained to the wall in this opulent room, left alone for the rest of the morning.

After you’d been thrown onto the floor and shackled by the jailer, you’d tried to rearrange your linen slip and undergarments as best you could. They were ripped, dusty and stained from the earth floor of the cell you’d recently been in.

The blue Kefta you used to wear had been ripped off you, when the Oprichnik found you at your family’s small house near Ryevost.

As a Tidemaker, an Etherealki, a water summoner, you’d served in the Second Army but you’d deserted when word reached you that your younger brother had been badly injured in a hunting accident.

You’d fled the Army camp under cover of night and made your way home across country, on a stolen horse. But the elite guards had been sent after you, much to your dismay. What made you so important? Many deserted and were never hunted down.

Your mind went over & over this as you lay there, pressure points on your body beginning to ache from long contact with the hard parquet flooring. The shadows moved steadily across the walls as the day progressed.

And now, it seemed, you had a visitor.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

At first you couldn’t make out much, there were shadows swirling around the figure, but that in itself gave you the answer of exactly who was approaching you.

The Darkling, or General Kirigan as he also now styled himself. The Shadow Summoner. Leader of the Second Army, a powerful man. Your mind spun... what on earth could he want with you? You’d never even seen him before, except from a very long distance away. And you’d certainly never spoken to him.

The shadows cleared, revealing him in his black Kefta and full uniform. His riding boots clicked out another few steps towards you, until he came to a halt, towering over you. You craned your neck to gaze up at him.

You heard your full name being spoken by him, in a low but clear voice. He knew your name? You nodded, swallowing as you replied.

“Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He slowly turned the clawed ring on his last finger. “Why did you desert? I don’t take it kindly when one of my finest Tidemakers disappears without leave.”

“My... my brother,” you stuttered, “he was badly injured, I had to go.” You looked down, “I’m sorry, moi soverennyi, I had no choice.”

“Wrong!” he said, harshly, “there’s a procedure for leave, and you failed to follow it.”

“There was no time...” you said, desperate to put your case to this, the most senior man in the Grisha Army.

“Enough!”

You flinched back as he shouted at you.

He turned on his heel, going over to the large, partly shuttered window.

“I could have you shot.” His head turned slightly, as he looked at you over his shoulder. “Or worse.”

You hung your head, fear spreading into your very bones. If the money you sent every month to your mother stopped, what would she and your brother do? Your father and older brother were dead.

He turned and made his way back to you. Bending over, his hand roughly took hold of your jaw and he forced your head up, so that you were looking into each other’s eyes. His grey eyes looked like shattered ice.

“What would you do to keep yourself alive, hmm?”

“Anything... please... for my family, moi soverennyi. Without me, they won’t survive.”

He nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. “I thought you might say that.” He straightened up, and stood looking down at you. “I find you attractive, your body is...” his eyes flickered over you like a cold breeze, “desirable.”

A short pause. “I have need of a... companion. To help me forget my daily struggles. You will be that companion. You will take care of all of my needs.”

You realised what he meant, and your eyes widened in shock.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He’d left after that, without saying anything else. Two of the palace serving women had come in shortly afterwards and unchained you, taking you into an adjoining room which had a large free-standing tub in it. You were washed in a bath of fragrant rose oil, your hair washed and put up in a loose bun, and you were dressed in fresh linen robes.

Then they rechained you to the wall and left you alone.

You contemplated what you’d been forced into. He was handsome, very much so. If he didn’t intimidate you so much, and in different circumstances you’d have been attracted to him. Well, you were attracted to him you admitted to yourself, but you didn’t trust him in the least. And you also wondered what had happened to his little Sun Summoner... there had been rumours about those two. But she hadn’t been seen around the camp recently.

Several more hours passed before Kirigan returned. He strode into the room, locking the door behind him once more, tutting as he saw that you’d been chained up again. He released you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you against him, inhaling your scent for a second before pushing you towards a door off to the right.

“Time to initiate our agreement,” he breathed into your ear, “come with me, little dove.”

Your stomach lurched. You’d never been with a man before, never experienced so much as a kiss. He felt your arm tensing in his hand, and he quickly opened the door, hustling you inside. He locked that door too.

You looked around you; it was a large room with a huge bed in the middle of it. Meanwhile, you were almost hyper-ventilating, and he looked curiously at you.

“Are you afraid?”

“I’ve never lain with a man before, moi soverennyi,” you admitted.

His eyes widened, a distinct gleam coming into them. “I will take your virginity?” He gave a small laugh, “This is even better than I anticipated! Do you know, you’ll be my first virgin? All the times I’ve...” he shook his head, chuckling, “and never a virgin amongst them.”

His eyes swung down to yours, “Until now.” The tip of his tongue swiped quickly over his lips, and you knew he was aroused.

You shuddered, feeling nauseous. You didn’t want to lose your innocence to this dark, manipulative man, but you had no choice and he knew it.

He beckoned to you, and you took faltering steps towards him. He stared into your eyes, while putting a finger under your chin. You felt like he was looking into your soul.

“We’ll start off slowly, little dove. I don’t want to scare you too much, in fact I want you to enjoy it so that you’ll always be ready and willing for me.”

He suddenly started unbuttoning the fly of his black uniform trousers, and you unconsciously drew back. He grabbed your wrist. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do, yes?” But it wasn’t really a question.

You failed to respond so he repeated, louder, “Yes?” You managed to nod. “Say it!” he ordered. “Yes, moi soverennyi.”

He reached down to his open fly, laying aside the fabric of his trousers and undershorts. Your eyes watched his hand in terrified fascination, you’d never seen what was hidden inside men’s trousers before. You caught sight of the smooth pale skin of his abdomen, dark hair marking a path down his lower belly to a thicker growth of hair.

He freed his erect length from the fabric, and your mouth dropped open. It was so much bigger than you’d expected. This is what you’d heard other girls giggling about, you supposed. It was almost laying right up against his stomach, and it looked like a dangerous weapon.

You heard your name, and looked up at him. He had an amused look on his handsome face. He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you felt a downward pressure. “You need to kneel,” he said.

You did so. “Put your hands on the back of my legs,” he ordered, and again you complied. One of his hands went to the back of your head, his fingers pulling your hair loose before entwining themselves in it. He pulled your face forward until it was against the dark trail of hair on his belly. You were instantly aware of his aroma, a spicy scent. “Kiss,” he ordered, and you began laying a path of kisses down it.

He nodded, “Well done. Now.... you will take this in your mouth.” He had his other hand around his cock and inclined his head towards it. You leaned back, gasping up at him. “Come on!” he said, impatiently, “you were doing so well. Open your mouth!” Voice getting louder. You hoped no-one could hear.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and as you watched his ‘weapon’ approaching your face, you noticed there were small pearly beads of liquid leaking from it. He placed his tip right onto your tongue, and you tasted something both salty and musky. “Now you need to kiss and lick,” he instructed. You began licking the head, and you heard a stifled groan from him. You began to intersperse kisses with your licking, and he tried to contain more groans behind gritted teeth. His hand gripped further into your hair, pushing your head forward.

“Now suck!” he gasped out, “and do it all at the same time!” A voice at the back of your mind questioned how that was even possible, but you did your best. “Be warned, girl! I’m going in further,” he told you, “eventually it will be fully in your mouth and at the back of your throat. Don’t choke, and whatever you do, don’t bite!”

Without further warning, he pushed his length further and further into your mouth, eventually making you gag. He pulled back slightly, “Take a breath. And get ready, I’m not even fully in yet!” You gasped in some air, feeling your eyes beginning to water. He paused for only a few seconds, before restarting his relentless push forward. “Relax your throat!” he ordered, before sinking in almost to the base. Tears streamed from your eyes as you found yourself - despite his instructions - choking round him.

He held your head firmly against his groin and began thrusting, but not too deeply. Gradually you realised that unless you relaxed more, this was going to be extremely uncomfortable for you. He sensed your slight relaxation, and to your horror he immediately began to thrust deeper and faster.

By this time, you’d felt something else rubbing near your chin. Just as you were wondering what this could possibly be, he ripped one of your hands away from the back of his leg and shoved it between his legs. You felt two fleshy, spongey globes beneath your fingertips. “Rub, squeeze!” were your next instructions. You took them into the palm of your hand and did as you were told.

He gripped your hair again, pulling at it while forcing your head to stay as close to him as possible, his thrusts building to a crescendo. You heard a prolonged, agonised-sounding groan from above you, he gave three fast, jerky thrusts into your mouth and suddenly warmth flooded your throat. You weren’t sure what this was but you’d no choice other than to swallow it. It was saltier and thicker than the previous liquid. His large hand was on the back of your head, forcing you to stay in position, and you choked again slightly as you desperately swallowed.

You could feel him softening, and he quickly pulled out of your mouth and away from you. Pulling his Kefta closed, he unlocked the door and walked out into the main room. You weren’t sure what to do so remained where you were, sinking down onto the floor a bit, and trying to loosen up your rigid neck & shoulder muscles. Wondering what was going to happen to you next.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He returned a moment later with a carafe of water and a glass. He placed them on the bedside table, then gestured for you to stand up. Producing a washcloth from one of his pockets, he gently wiped your lips and chin, where his juices had left a sheen on your skin. Then he poured a glass of water and handed it to you, telling you to sit on the bed.

“You did exceptionally well, for a first attempt,” he praised you, “in fact it seems you have a natural flair for it. Under my tutelage, you will soon give the best head in Ravka.” You looked confused, and he laughed, “The service you just provided for me... it’s called giving head, amongst other things.”

You looked up at him and asked boldly, “Will I be better than your Sun Summoner?”

He scowled, “Do not speak of her! She is gone.”

You nodded, “Hence why you needed a companion, moi soverennyi?”

He took two long strides over to you, grasping your jaw in his hand. “You may just’ve had your mouth around my cock but that doesn’t allow for insubordination, understand?!”

You nodded, afraid once more. “Yes, moi soverennyi.” And wondered why you’d felt like questioning him about her in the first place.

He was pacing the floor next to the bed. He stopped and glared at you. “Your night of discovery is not yet over, little dove,” he eventually muttered. “Finish your water and lie down on the bed.”

Your stomach clenched as now you knew what was going to happen next. You’d naively thought that perhaps he would allow you to sleep for the rest of the night. But judging by the predatory look on his face, that was not to be.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[emilyshotchniss]

Starting Fresh

Summary: After your best friend Elle leaves the BAU, you’re devastated - and a replacement agent is just adding salt to the wound. Or is it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem! BAU reader

Warnings: a little angst? fluff, non-graphic implied smut, nothing major:)

Word Count: 1677

Oh you have got to be kidding me...

You looked up from your desk to find a slender brunette woman standing in Hotch's office. She was carrying a large box, presumably filled with her things, and that could only mean one thing: she was likely Elle's replacement. You rolled your eyes as JJ called you all into the roundtable room, interrupting Hotch's conversation with said brunette, leaving her standing doe-eyed in the doorway, clutching her box. You followed JJ to meet the others, huffing as you went.

"Her body isn't even cold yet! She's been gone less than a week!" You exclaimed to the others.

"Y/N, calm down. We don't even know who she is," Derek said, trying to reassure you. Hotch entered the room with Gideon, looking both annoyed and confused.

"Who was that in your office?" You asked, trying to act cool.

"Nobody. JJ, lets present," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

********************

You made your way across the jet and sat opposite Hotch. He glanced up at you, waiting for you to speak. You squirmed awkwardly, before blurting out your question.

"I just need to know one thing... Is she replacing Elle?" You asked.

"Y/N, not now. I know how close you were with Elle, but this is a private matter." He stated.

"Fine," You sighed, and made your way over to Gideon, at the other end of the jet.

"Hey Gideon, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away kiddo," He replied.

"That woman... You know, the one from Hotch's office this morning? Is she replacing Elle?" You asked, desperate for some more information.

"Look," He began. "I don't know who she is, or why she's here, but she has all the right paperwork saying she's supposed to be here. Hotch is waiting to hear back from Strauss about her." He told you, keeping his voice low so Hotch wouldn't hear. You knew he'd be honest with you, he was almost like a father figure to you, ever since he took you under his wing when you first joined the team. He knew that Elle was your best friend, and how much her leaving affected you - and thought it only fair you knew all the information regarding her vacant position.

"Thank you, Gideon," You said, sincerely.

"Anytime kiddo," He replied, before returning to his book.

*************************

You returned from St Louis, laughing with the team as you entered the bullpen. You noticed the light in Hotch's office was on, and upon closer investigation you saw the same brunette sitting on Hotch's couch, waiting. You knew then she'd be sticking around.

"Alright guys, I'm heading out," You declared, masking your true emotions, dodging everyones' glances.

You walked swiftly to your car, and got in quickly. Everything then hit you at once - Elle was gone - and she was never coming back. Your best friend, was gone for good. You wiped your tears, and drove home, preparing yourself for the difficult day ahead of you.

***************************

Walking into the bullpen the next morning, you saw the brunette arranging some of her things opposite your desk - what was Elle's desk, was now her desk. You sighed, rolling your eyes, psyching yourself up, when Garcia body-blocked you.

"Stop." She stated.

"Ugh- Penelope," You said, attempting to get past, and failing miserably.

"Before you go any further, fix your face. I know she's not Elle and I know you miss her, but she's only trying to do her job. She's actually very lovely," She replied, smiling and booping your nose as she moved aside.

"Okay Garcia, I'll give her a shot," I said, walking up to my desk, when I heard my name.

"Y/N? Agent Y/N Y/L/N?" The voice said. "Hi, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," She said, extending her hand for you to shake. You hadn't noticed over the last few days, but she had gorgeous brown eyes, you could almost get lost in them.

"Y- Yes, hi," You replied, shaking her hand, before sitting down. "You nervous?" I joked.

"Uh- yeah, actually, a little. I hear I have big shoes to fill," She said, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"That you do," You replied, trying to be nice, "But don't worry, I have a feeling you'll fit right in," You finished, no longer faking the niceness, finding it easier to speak to her as the conversation went on. But god, those eyes...

***********************

"The cell members bailed out through a tunnel, the DEA recovered a nextel two-way and managed to intercept a message," JJ began, handing each of us a piece of paper, when she stopped Emily.

"That's not the transcript, it's-" She began, but Emily stopped her.

"No, it's in Arabic," She stated.

"Uh, our friends surprised us and eloped, we can no longer wait for the wedding as planned, we can deliver our gift at the next crescent." She said, oblivious to everyone's stares and gaping jaws. She looked up, as embarrassment flushed over her cheeks. I was in awe.

"I lived in several middle eastern countries growing up," She mumbled. This woman really was full of surprises, wasn't she? You didn't know what you were feeling, but as soon as you met those dark brown eyes you knew there was something different about her. I placed my hand on her thigh, reassuring her. She smiled gently in return, placing her hand delicately on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You were secretly praying that she would be your new field partner, but knowing Hotch and his trust issues, she probably wouldn't even fly with us.

You all returned to your desks, as Hotch and Gideon stood in his office doorway, quite obviously discussing Emily.

"Jason, this is an interrogation, not a training exercise." Hotch said sternly.

"She's the only member fluent in Arabic," Gideon countered.

"There's other translators," Hotch replied. You and Emily both glanced up from your desks.

"They haven't studied behavior," Gideon rebutted again.

"Does she even have her ready bag yet?" Hotch asked. At this, I noticed Emily duck beneath her desk, fumbling about.

"My guess is there isn't much that woman's unprepared for," Gideon said. Just as the words left Gideons' mouth, Emily re-emerged from below her desk, sliding her packed ready bag onto the table, standing awkwardly next to it. You couldn't help but giggle at her, which caught her attention.

"What," She grinned.

"Nothing, it- it's just your cute, that's all," You smiled back, causing her to blush. You had no idea where your boldness was coming from, but you weren't lying - she was cute...

"Prentiss, Y/L/N, you're flying with Gideon to Guantanamo, car leaves in 4 minutes." Hotch stated.

"Yes sir," You both replied, Emily struggling to hide her wide smile. She had the most amazing smile...

********************************

The team returned back from GTMO, after an exhausting few days. Thankfully, you were able to prevent the terrorist attack that Al Ikhteraa had planned, and everyone was headed to O'Keefe's for drinks. Hotch went straight home to Haley and Jack, and Gideon decided to skip. You were headed to your cars, when Emily stopped you right before you unlocked your door.

"Hey, Y/N wait up," She said, running over to you. You immediately felt your palms begin to sweat and your heart rate increase. You never expected to - but you liked her. A lot.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you," She began.

"Thank you? For what?" You said, letting out a confused giggle. She smiled back, sending the butterflies in your stomach crazy..

"Oh, just helping me settle in the last few days,and being the most awesome field partner I could've asked for, having my back and all," She continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, you know, they told me you were close with Agent Greenaway," She said. Oh my god - you'd gone the whole week without thinking about Elle once. Were you finally moving past her?

"Uh- Uh yeah, yeah, she was my best friend." I replied, looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, that must've been difficult," She said, grabbing your arm, the physical contact sending chills down your spine. Screw it. You had had a great week despite your first ideas, and you were feeling bold.

"I wanted to hate you so badly," You began, catching her off guard. "I wanted to hate you, because you were replacing Elle, because I knew that you joining the team would make me have to accept that my best friend was gone, and never coming back." She tightened her grip on your arm, softly stroking it with her thumb.

"But as soon as we first spoke, I knew there was something about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And as the week went on, I only became more sure." You continued, smiling at her, making her blush.

"Sure of what?" She questioned, nervously giggling.

"Sure that I wanted to do this..." You hummed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you, then gently placing your lips on hers. You panicked when you didn't feel her kiss back initially, but were reassured when you felt her tongue brush over your bottom lip. You started slow, but things progressed fairly quickly and she took control, pushing you flush against your car. She let out a few faint groans of pleasure, before you pulled away for air, grinning from ear to ear, feeling like you were going to burst with happiness.

"You still wanna get drinks?" She whispered.

"I have other plans in mind, if you'd like to join me," You winked, before unlocking your car.

"I'd love to," She replied, jumping in the passenger side. The whole car journey home was filled with stolen glances and wandering hands, and when you finally arrived at your apartment, you could barely contain yourselves. Lips met, clothes were ripped from each other, and you spent the night exploring every inch of each other. You both knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful adventure...

[cherrybracelets]

I’ll Take You On

bucky barnes x f. reader

18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )

inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton 

For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely. 

Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic. 

After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job. 

Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence. 

So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it. 

He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect. 

But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you. 

And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls. 

After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.

You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation? 

But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do. 

You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job. 

You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth. 

Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in. 

“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention. 

“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you. 

But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”. 

You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you. 

“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…” 

Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks. 

“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.” 

You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement. 

“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly. 

“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily. 

“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky. 

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin. 

“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat. 

“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work. 

“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. 

You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had. 

The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful  mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him. 

You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost. 

You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job. 

You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.

 They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you. 

But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd. 

At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…

“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him. 

“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky. 

“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance. 

“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze. 

“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke. 

It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter… 

“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office. 

“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…

Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card. 

“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand. 

You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day. 

You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here. 

You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.

By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect. 

The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him. 

It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls. 

But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy. 

As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s. 

Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice. 

That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would. 

He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing. 

“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you. 

“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table. 

You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky. 

Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk. 

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you. 

“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly. 

Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta. 

You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention. 

It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right? 

Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky. 

But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did. 

In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it. 

“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table. 

You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk. 

Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down. 

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?” 

The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment. 

“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush. 

Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair. 

“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on. 

“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently. 

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter. 

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.” 

“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away. 

“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?” 

The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch. 

He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught. 

“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…” 

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win. 

“I’ll take good care of her, man.”

Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin. 

“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say. 

Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from. 

The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted. 

But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.

You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger. 

Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house. 

“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice. 

“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice. 

“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean? 

He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge. 

You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine. 

Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth. 

You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth. 

You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way. 

Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever. 

But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in. 

“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.

You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions. 

“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck. 

“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw. 

You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance. 

You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.

For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you. 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly. 

“Water.” 

He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him. 

You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate. 

“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement. 

“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway. 

You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate. 

“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump. 

“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth. 

“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.” 

He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address. 

Who the hell was James Barnes? 

[summer-time]

Stress relief - or how to ask forgiveness at your Copad (part 1)

Summary: after a rought mission, you only want to return home, grab a few snacks, and sleep for a month, but Crosshair decide to be his annoying self. The ending is not what you ever thought of.

Pairing: Crosshair/female!Reader (kinda pre relationship)

Tags: canon typical violence; Crosshair being his charming self; language; allusion at sex; reader is without physical description; reader use her/she pronouns; copad = desire in Mando'a.

N/A: I'm sleep deprived - it's like 3.44a.m. here - but I needed to write something with our favourite sniper. And because I saw so many great fics for the Kinktober here on Tumblr, my mind spiraled deep into my dirty toughts: the smutty part will be up today (after I had a chance to sleep) or tomorrow. This is a prequel to the main course - just to warm yourself up ;)

"What the hell was that?!" - you nearly screamed, anger twisting into your mind and blood boiling with rage and incredulously.

The idiot trooper in front of you didn't even seem to listen to your hissed voice, busy as he was at rolling his stupid toothpick into his mouth and grinning victoriously with the rest of the squad.

His disregard made your anger skyrocketing to the stars and above, eyes narrowing at the lazy and unabashed gaze he threw at you.

"Hello again, Dollface, miss me?" - he dared to ask you like he didn't break formation without comming you. After all, you weren't part of his squad, so if you nearly escaped your death for his little change of plans, he couldn't even care less about it.

"Don't fucking call me that! Are you out of your goddammed mind?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" - you hissed angrily while the stings of your wounds reminded you that you needed to stop the bleeding soon and putting on some bacta to heal them.

You watched as his sharp eyes zoomed onto your face - with a shade of anger under his cold irises - but you were caught too much into your own emotions to care about that. You nearly died because he changed position without warning you; you thought he had your back, but he left you in the middle of the battle to run to Tech.

If you were less angry and more logical, you could understand his motivations: Tech was his brother, his teammate from birth, and he was a little vulnerable while he downloaded pieces of information. You could sympathize with the instinct of protecting the people you cared about, and care a little less about a stranger who would be with the squad only for a couple of missions.

But you were also on this mission. You tried to be gentle and respectful to all members. You didn't try to be a burden to them, but rather you willingly shared your knowledge and helped around the ship. You were the one to discover the word codes used to enter the Separatist base.

And your reward had been a near-death sentence, thanks to the sniper.

"It's a side effect I didn't know about? Are your brain cells all dead?"

"Careful now, Princess, you better watch your tone with me." - he slyly said, piercing stare right into your eyes. Fuck this guy, and fuck his attitude.

"You changed position without telling me!" - you hissed, trying to make him understand the tight spot he threw you in. Your anger strongly returned at his raised eyebrow, his toothpick lazying rolling through his lips. Again.

"You didn't need to know. Besides, you said you could take care of yourself on the battlefield, did you not? I don't see the problem here." - what a complete bastard! Yes, you were training in combat, but you believed he was covering you - especially if you were overwhelmed with enemies. And he didn't!

And he didn't care. Your anger suddenly left you at the mercy of the battle aftermath - at the pain of your wounds, the soreness of your muscles, and the tiredness of your eyes. Your emotions faded from your face, and with a tired sigh, you left the Bad Batch to return to their ship to treat your wounds.

The return trip was quick, even if filled with a low tension between you and Crosshair: Hunter had tried to pry as to why you were been so silent, preferring to be left alone, but you deviated his attention into helping him make his mission report. You choose to leave out your very, very bad experience: you quite liked the squad, and a bad review would surely catch the Kaminoes' attention. And you didn't want that, even if the Bastard could use some manners drilled into his thick head.

"Well, guys, see you at another mission, I suppose." - waving your hand, you quickly disappeared in the crowd, not giving the clones time to replay at your goodbye. You needed some time off to acknowledge what happened: going to your apartment was the best idea so far.

You wanted to relax, to spend the rest of the evening drinking hot tea and watching bad holomovies, maybe getting a warm shower before going to bed. Unfortunately, your good luck decided to leave you at the mercy of the Bastard: as you were taking your keys out of your pack, you caught the unique black armor patter on the corner of your eyes. You quietly swore, hoping it was Hunter and not the sniper: but you were wrong. Fuck your damned luck and all the stars above.

"We need to talk, Princess." - his monotone voice was already grating on your nerves. It wasn't enough that you spent your entire time listening to his sarcastic comments on your qualification or ignoring you altogether, now he wanted to talk? Well. Fuck. Him.

"No, we don't. " - you hoped it was the end of the story. But the Bastard didn't seem to listen at all, roughly grabbing your keys from your hands and walking into your home - without an invitation.

Yes, a few bangs on the wall for his head could solve the problems. Maybe.

"Oh, Crosshair, come in, please, make yourself at home." - you snarled at his back, closing the door. You saw a smirk on his face, wiped out when he curiously gazed into the small kitchen and the living room.

"What is your problem with me?" - he suddenly asked, voice still monotone. First, you angrily tried to set him on fire with only your eyes, before spilling then out what had happened. And his face kept his stupid expression on, rolling toothpick in his mouth, and intense gaze on you.

"We knew you could handle it." - that was his fucking response. You wanted to hurt him so bad, to let him feel at least one percent of your swirling emotions. And you tried to throw a punch at his stupid smirk, willing to wipe it out - an impulsive reaction of your idiotic brain - but the Bastard caught your wrist, pulling you closer to his body.

You snarled, trying to pull roughly your arm free and out of his grasp, not that you really could: despite your hard training, Crosshair was still a clone, bred to be a better soldier that you could ever be, and he was one of the most skilled. You couldn't escape his grasp without him letting you out. And at the moment, he didn't want to.

"Ah-ah, Dollface, you don't need to be this physical. But if that it's something you want, I'm more than happy to help." - stupid, arrogant smirk; a harsh character that hid one deep desire: after all, why not help his poor team member? She seemed in need of steaming off some stress, and Crosshair knew a very pleasurable way to do it.

He spitted his anti-stress on the floor and sneaked his free hand to her neck's base, gently cupping it while catching how his maybe-Copad's eyes followed his rapid movements: her pupils were wide open from anger, cheeks nearly red after all her shouting, silence interruped only by her hushed breaths. She made a delicious imagine, one that Crosshair hoped would be followed by something more if the evening would go on.

He kept under control his instinct to grab her chin and kiss her senselessly, not giving her time to think or speak. But no, he wanted to make sure she would be willing, that she could still refuse him and his offer if she wanted to: so, he slowed down, taking great pain in restraining the part of his mind that felt exposed, and great pleasure on seeing her pupils dilatating impossibly wide, black consuming all her lovely eyes.

He adsorbed all her little inches of breath, of her warm cheeks now flushed bright red, of how her body had slightly stiffened at their shared closeness and then relaxed. She could still say no, and he would back off without bringing this interaction up ever again.

He gave his Copad more time, to refuse, to say yes, to remain there, to do as she pleased, before he decided to initiate something: if not a kiss, maybe a gentle headbutt, a Keldabe kiss only for her. Not that she would understand the real deep meaning of it, she didn't even know Mando'a or their culture. It could be his little secret, or he could use it to annoy her in the future; maybe she would lose all her patience after hearing him call her by any pet name in Mando'a and not knowing it. Maybe his brothers would laugh at him for being a romantic under his cold demeanor.

"Let me say how sorry I am for your little misadventure." - Crosshair smirked, licking his lips: she didn't say no, she didn't refuse him and didn't seem scared too much - she stopped struggling to free her hand from his grasp some time ago. He could kiss her at least, and then if she allowed it, he would made up to her: he wanted her forgiveness, and the sniper had some very convincing arguments to prove it.