#she gunned for those elevator buttons FIVE TIMES!!!

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff at the end

Request by anon: Steve x singer reader (inspired by the character Silverfox) fluff / Reader is a singer when shes not an agent her performance varries from cover to performing she kept two personas apart the singer and agent while shes is with steve the way he found out was she was recording a cover performance of Melanie martinez- Show and tell dance and cover song . Both surprised about finding out yet both growing fond he asked "Why didnt you tell me?!" He thought shes shy but this he likes to encourage her more she fiddles with her fingers" its hard to explain" steve hugged y/n " aww doll i couldnt be mad" deadly agent/assasin on duty - sweet , fun, goofy off mission and lol charismatic, good dramatic and other worldy on stage 

Summary: On one side of the coin, you're this super serious and sneaky agent that will get the job done at any cost, and do it efficiently. On the other side of the coin, you're super sweet and playful that loves to sing and dance.

Squares Filled: secret identity (2022) for @avengersbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mission is simple: get to the control center, download all the files they have, and delete them off their servers. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, it would be except for this building is highly guarded and will definitely have ten times more guards than you have people on your team. Your goal is to get those files and delete them, Wanda is responsible for getting the civilians out of the building safely, Sam is securing the perimeter from the sky, and Bucky and Steve are tasked with taking down the guards when they come after you.

Wanda stands at the front of the building and uses her magic to connect with the people inside. Her magic influences them to leave no matter what they are doing and people start to leave the building immediately. You, Steve, and Bucky walk into the building and push past the people who are trying to leave. The first three floors don’t have any guards waiting. The higher you go, the more they come out like insects.

When they start shooting, you three duck behind two of the desks quickly. The elevator is on the other side of the room which you need to get to to reach the control center. It’s on the top floor and there is no way you’re climbing up all those stairs.

“What do we do?” Bucky asks.

“You two take them down. Cover me. I’m going to the elevator. You have the shield. Use it to take the bitches down.”

“You got it. Go now.”

Steve throws his shield at five of the soldiers who are knocked down by the impact of the shield while Bucky starts shooting. You jump from desk to desk and flip over two of the soldiers elegantly. Years of gymnastics finally come in handy, and you’re silently thanking your mom for forcing you to go to those lessons. One of the guards aims his gun at you but it’s knocked out by Steve’s shield before he can shoot.

You take one of your knives and expertly throw it at the elevator button so that the handle of the knife bounces off the button. You flip over two more soldiers and catch the knife before it can touch the ground. You turn swiftly and fling the knife into one of the soldier’s necks who tries to come after you. The doors to the elevator open just as you reach it, and you quickly press the button for the top floor.

“Okay, I’m in the elevator,” you say into your earpiece.

“Perimeter looks good. Keep doing what you’re doing, guys,” Sam says from above.

The elevator stops at the top floor and when the doors open, the two guards posted at the door to the control room turn to face you. They raise their guns to shoot at you but you’re quicker than they are. You cartwheel over to them and push up on the ground so you fling yourself at the guard on the right. You kick the gun out of his hands and cling to him from the front, turning him so that he’s in between you and the other guard. You take your other hidden knife and stab him in the head, and you jump off his body before he goes crashing to the ground. You kick him in the chest and send him flying into the other guard. You grab the first guard’s gun and shoot the second one twice in the chest and once in the head for good measure.

You walk into the control room where there is a man sitting at a desk. He looks like the kind of man you’d call to come fix your computer if it stopped working. You know, someone who works at Best Buy and all they want to do is tell you everything about the latest model they have in stock. He jumps at the sound of you kicking the door in, and he raises his hands in surrender.

“Move,” you say and motion with your gun.

He slides away from the desk immediately. He must have been taken hostage to help these guys do whatever they needed to get done on the computer. You set your gun down knowing he isn’t going to be an issue and grab the flash drive Fury gave you from your small pocket. You plug it into the machine and begin the process to download all of the files. As you wait, you turn to the man who hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you barged in.

“Please don’t kill me.”

“Don’t worry, kid. You’re safe for now.” Once all the files are downloaded, you remove the flash drive and wipe their entire hard drive. You pick your gun back up and approach the young man who shakes in his seat from fear. “Get up.” He stands up and you fix his tie, glasses, and hair. “You’re a smart kid. You should get away while you have the chance.”

You pat his shoulders and leave him alone to fend for himself.

“I got the files. Get the hell out of here now,” you say to your team.

“Roger Dodger,” Sam says.

Your team gets the hell out of Dodge and returns back to the compound where Fury is waiting.

“Your flash drive,” you grin and toss him the small device.

“Nice work. I’m impressed.”

“That easy,” you wave him off. “Alright, I will be taking a long bath. Don’t disturb me.”

You break away from the group before anyone can say anything and immediately head to your room. You’ll take a bath eventually but you need to check your social media notifications like you do every day. You have thousands of comments waiting for you on YouTube, three times that in likes, and that’s only covering one social media platform.

Apart from being a deadly assassin/spy for the Avengers, you’re a passionate singer who has a large following. You love singing and dancing and have made good money off it, and people seem to love the cover videos you do online. It’s how you started off which turned into you writing your own music. You don’t have a lot of songs to call your own, but you’re learning every day how to be a better songwriter and performer. 

Soon, you hope to have an album out.

There are a lot of comments online asking you to sing and dance to “Show and Tell” by Melanie Martinez. You absolutely love her and all of her music so this is something you’re excited to do. You’ve watched that music video and the K-12 film hundreds of times so you’re confident you can copy the dance that goes along with this song. You’re going to be playing the actual song by her through your speakers so you know how to stay in sync with the music, but you’re going to remove the audio and replace it with your own cover of the song. You always make your own spin to the songs you cover but your followers seem to love it.

You change out of your Avengers outfit and into something more child-like like the puffy pink dress you have. Wanda gifted you this when she held a pink-only party a few months ago. Once you’ve completely changed your look, you set your tripod up where you want it and begin the song.

Steve had just gotten out of the shower when he heard music come from your room. You don’t have a bathroom in there, so how are you taking a bath and listening to music in your room at the same time? He puts a thin shirt on and sweats before going to find out what’s going on. He knocks on the door but the music is so loud that you don’t hear him. His curiosity gets the better of him so he slowly opens the door to give you time to stop him if you’re paying attention.

“Y/N?”

He peeks his head in to see you dancing with a pink dress on in front of your camera. He smiles widely at the sight of you doing a complete 180 in personality. The woman he fought with today is a deadly assassin that kills when promoted, but the woman in front of him now is nothing but a huge sweetheart. You turn to face your door to continue the dance when you notice Steve standing there. You gasp and quickly turn the music off to confront him about the sudden intrusion.

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry. I knocked. I can leave if you want me to.” Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. No one should know this about you. Your reputation might be tainted if people see you as something soft and loveable. “Don’t be embarrassed. This is cute.”

“It’s not cute,” you groan. “I have a large following that loves these videos. They don’t even know I’m with the Avengers. I love to sing and dance, and sometimes I perform in small settings like bars for decent money. We see such gore and bad things every day, and this brings joy to a lot of people. I use my skills to hurt people so this is something I can do to make people happy.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, but I think this is amazing. We all do things to counteract the bad.”

“What do you do?”

“Help as many people as I can. Can I sit and watch?”

“Okay,” you blush.

You start the second verse over again so you can resume your dancing, and Steve takes a seat on your bed out of view of the camera. People would freak the fuck out if you had Captain America sitting on your bed, and that’s not the kind of publicity that you need right now. Steve watches as you resume dancing and he can’t help but think how different you are compared to how he normally sees you. 

Not many people know this side of you, and he feels special knowing he’s one of those very few people.

x

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[storiesforallfandoms]

stuck with you ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2102

request?: yes!

“Ooh how about an enemies to lovers fic where Colson and the reader get stuck in an elevator together please”

description: it’s hard to keep up a petty beef when you’re stuck in an elevator with your supposed sworn enemy

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, claustrophobia, panic attack

masterlist (one, two)

I don’t even know how the fight between Colson and I ever started, but I knew it was extremely prevalent even though we were forced to go on tour together.

The first big gig my band and I had ever gotten was to go on a massive tour with a bunch of other popular and legendary alt rock acts. It was sort of like Warped Tour, but under a different name. We were touring with the likes of All Time Low, Sleeping With Sirens, Pierce the Veil, etc. We were relatively unknown, so to be given this opportunity was such a big deal for all of us.

My feud with Colson had started before that. Again, I have no idea how it started. I don’t know Colson even knew. All we knew was that we hated one another, or rather we thought that we did. So when the full line up for the tour was announced, and none other than Machine Gun Kelly was on the list, I instantly regretted my decision.

“You won’t even be in contact with him,” my drummer told me after we found out the lineup. “It’s a massive tour, we have our own bus, and the likeliness that you’ll run into him in the hotel or even backstage is so small.”

“You also need to get over this stupid fight,” my bassist added. “You guys barley know one another, how can you be in a feud?”

“That’s the thing, he barley knows me and he’s ragged on me in interviews. Do you realize how much that could effect the reputation of the band?”

“You won’t even run into him,” my drummer repeated. “Just remember that.”

Well, I wish he was right, because I happened to run into Colson on our first night.

The four of us were staying in one hotel room, and in true fashion of a band on their first big tour, we bought enough alcohol to make sure we wouldn’t remember anything the next morning. I offered to go grab ice from the floor above us so we could keep everything cold, and decided taking the elevator was the best idea. The minute the doors opened, I wished I had taken the stairs.

Colson raised an eyebrow at me, glancing down at the ice bucket in my hand.

“I didn’t realize the house keeping went to get ice for the rooms,” he said.

“That wasn’t even clever. You’re starting to fall off Colson,” I said. “I’ll just take the stairs.”

“The floor is literally just one up, it won’t kill us to be in an elevator together for five seconds.”

I glared at him as I realized he was right. I let out an exaggerated sigh and stepped into the elevator, making sure to put a lot of distance between the two of us. Colson hit the button for the next floor up and the elevator doors closed.

It didn’t move.

I looked over at Colson in confusion, wondering if he was also feeling what I was. The look on his face mirrored mine, which was enough to answer my question.

He hit the floor button again, although it was already lit up. Nothing happened. He hit it again, and again, then furiously started jabbing it repeatedly.

“Stop, that’s obviously not doing anything,” I said to him.

“What else am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know, see if the doors will open?”

He pressed the button to make the doors open, but again there was nothing. He started jabbing that one too, which resulted in me snapping at him to stop again. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could the elevator jolted suddenly and a loud alarm rang out.

“Oh fuck,” Colson breathed. “Must be stuck.”

“Wait like...like we’re stuck in here?” I asked.

“That’s what stuck means, yes.”

I felt panic starting to rise in me. I dropped the ice bucket and started clawing at the doors, hoping to somehow pull them open. Colson put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me away.

“Hey, that’s not gonna work!” he said. “For one, you’re literally the size of a toothpick, and two, if the elevator is stuck we can’t open the doors. We’ll just have to press the help button and wait for something to happen.”

My breathing became heavier and I started to hyperventilate. I pressed my back against the back of the elevator and slid down till I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly. I closed my eyes and tried to come down from my panic attack before it even started, but I knew it was no use. The feeling of the confined space in the elevator was baring down on me, I needed to get out of there somehow.

Colson knelt next to me and put a hand on my arm. I looked up at him but I was having a hard time focusing because of how violently I was shaking. Through my somewhat blurry vision though I could see a concerned look on his face.

“Hey,” he said, this time softer than before, “look at me. Are you claustrophobic?”

I felt like I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded instead. Colson’s eyes widened and he quickly turned back to the help button. He started jabbing at it the way he had the other buttons earlier. I was panicking too much to really care at this point. I felt like I was going to throw up, which made it lucky that the ice bucket was right next to me I guess.

“I don’t know if anyone can hear us,” Colson called, “but we’re fucking stuck in an elevator and one of us is having a panic attack! Someone get us the fuck out of here!”

I buried my head in my knees, trying to calm myself down. I tried to imagine that I wasn’t stuck in an elevator, that I was back in my hotel room with my bandmates. Unfortunately I was too far into my panic attack to calm myself down that way. My only hope was getting out of the elevator.

Colson came to sit next to me. I could feel his body close and, even though we were constantly fighting, there was just something comforting about knowing he was there with me. We sat in silence for a little bit, besides the sounds of my hyperventilating. I felt Colson’s arm move next to me, then a gentle tap on my arm. When I raised my head he was holding his phone out to me, showing me a picture of a young girl.

“That’s my daughter,” he told me. “Her name is Casie. She’s my entire world.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said, my voice very shaky.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” he said. “Whenever I’m having a bad mental health day, or I’m having an anxiety attack, I just think about the next time I’ll be able to see her and it helps me to calm down.”

“I didn’t even know you had a daughter,” I admitted.

“We don’t know a lot about each other.”

I nodded. “I know, I say that all the time.”

He smirked at me. “You talk about me, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do. We hate each other, so naturally I have to talk shit about you all the time.”

His face softened then, which shocked me a little. I had never seen him look so...well...just nice. When I wasn’t looking at him through a haze of anger from our stupid feud, he really did look...handsome.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“What? Of course you do. You always say shit about me, you even mentioned me in one of your songs recently in a negative way.”

“Yeah, cause I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

And in that moment I realized that I really didn’t. My dislike towards Colson was purely under the idea that he hated me too. I thought that was the way I was supposed to feel towards him, not the way I actually felt.

“Wait,” I said, uncurling myself from the ball I was in. “Are you telling me we’ve been fighting and having this stupid feud...and we don’t even hate each other?”

Colson awkwardly chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what happened.”

I tried to laugh too, but the elevator suddenly jolted again, which immediately brought back my panicked state. Colson wrapped his arms around me and held me against his chest, running his fingers through my hair and trying to calm me back down. Surprisingly, it worked at least a little bit.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while, actually,” Colson admitted. When I looked up at him, even he seemed shocked by this. “I always thought you were beautiful and I wanted to get to meet you in person. But when all this fighting started, I tried to push those feelings aside and pretend like they never existed, but they’ve always been there. I think that’s why I’ve said some extra harsh things towards you, just to try and make myself believe that I really didn’t like you.”

The silence in the elevator was deafening. I pulled away from Colson to look up at him. He averted his gaze to his lap, refusing to look at me at all. I could see red creeping up his neck, embarrassment rising within him no doubt.

I had a brief moment of courage build within me, and I decided to act on it. I cupped Colson’s face in my hands and forced him to look up at me. Before I could lose my courage, I pressed my lips against his.

He hesitated at first, like he couldn’t believe this was happening, but it didn’t take him long to melt into the kiss. His hands found their way to my hips, holding them gently as our kiss became deeper and more passionate. With little effort, he lifted me from the floor onto his lap so that I was straddling him. I ran my hands through his messy blonde hair, curling my fingers into the stands at the back of his head and pulling slightly. The noise I earned from this was definitely a moan, although Colson was adamant that it wasn’t.

Before we could go much further, the elevator suddenly rattled back to life and started moving. When the doors opened again, I nearly sobbed with relief. The two of us quickly untangled from one another and stumbled out into the hallway. The air felt so fresh and my chest, which I hadn’t even realized was so tight, felt like it was opening again.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed. “I’m taking the fucking stairs.”

Colson chuckled. “Can I walk you down to your floor?”

“Aren’t you upstairs?”

“Yeah, like two floors above you I think. But I’d like to spend more time with you before we part ways.”

I smiled and agreed. We walked down the stairs together in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, and neither could Colson.

He walked me all the way to my hotel room door. We faced each other for another moment, just smiling at one another. It felt weird to not be fighting with him in that moment, but a good weird.

“I should get up to my room I guess,” he finally said. “I have to be up pretty early tomorrow for soundcheck.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe...we could meet up there and continue what we started in the elevator.”

Somehow my smile got even bigger. “Okay, I’d like that.”

He nodded, his face bright with excitement. He said goodnight and headed back towards the stairs. I leaned against my hotel room door, feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again.

That’s when I realized I wasn’t carrying the ice bucket. I had definitely left it in the elevator, but there was no way in hell I was going back for it. I was prepared to explain the entire story to my bandmates, who I was sure had heard the last of mine and Colson’s conversation through the door. I was expecting so many questions about why I was gone so long, why they had heard Colson outside with me, and why I was smiling like such an idiot.

But instead, they looked at me for a moment and my drummer asked, “Where’s the ice?”

[athenamgh]

PLAY NICE

a/n: just a bit of Natasha Romanoff

paring/s: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

summary: why play nice if it is so much more fun to play bad

warning/s: fluff, sexual tension, against minor veryy, mommy and daddy kink (minor), mention of strap

word count: 1.8k

Natasha Romanoff MASTERLIST

After a couple of months of debating with Furry, he finally gave in and assigned you to the new mission. You were excited at first, your injuries these past couple of months were healing quickly and the echoing whisper in your head seemed to disappear, you desperately hoped that it drowned with all the horror that you experienced on that day six months ago.

But as you were sitting in this flourishing five-star hotel, next to this greedy jerk Dominic Laurentis, who seemed to be involved in some illegal gun smuggling with Russian mobs, you felt bored and you couldn’t help but think that you rather sit in your room in compound playing video games, than last another torturing minute next to this ten grand suit jerk.

Suddenly the gloomy atmosphere that surrounded you interrupted the loud heels hitting the luxury floor of the hotel’s lobby. ‘Finally..’ you thought to yourself. You slowly stood up, smoothing out your dark velvet suit from all the wrinkles. You were pretending to be a new Laurentis’ bodyguard that was specifically assigned to keep his special lawyer and special deal ‘package’ safe. For one thing, you were sure. This supposed to be lawyer and bodyguard that Laurentis assigned was just necessary loose ends that will need to be dealt with as soon as the deal with the mafia will be sealed.

You needed to do a double-check because the sight in front of you left you stunned. Across from the room, you saw a red-haired woman, dressed in a red dress that was way above her knees, hugging her curves just in the right way. The closer she was walking towards you the more you could see how indeed beautifully engraved her face was, how gorgeous she was.

“Ahh, my most beautiful and favourite business partner, Natalia,” Dominic said making with such nasty seductive voice that you almost puked. The woman came to him with the brightest smile, giving him two kisses on both checks greeting him and when turning to you. “Meet my lawyer and your next most valuable job of keeping this fragile lady safe, Y/-..” Dominic said trying to introduce the woman but she cut him off.

“Y/n, it’s been years…” she said playfully, stretching her hand out. You just narrowed your eyes at her nodding but keeping your hands in your pockets.

“Oh, you know each other?” Laurentis said surprised.

The woman clenched her stretched arm to the fist-pumping your shoulder lightly and turning to Dominic “Well, we kind of went to the same high school together”.

“And she kind of was a crazy bitch around..” you paused for a moment “there..” you said for the first time.

“Oh and she speaks” redhead said making you roll your eyes. “No, no need to bring it all up, it’s all in the past,” She said with a charming smile glancing at you for a split second. “Besides everything is different now. And your obsession with those… books, I believe, was starting to become scary.” You rolled your eyes again.

Dominic interrupted this little play “Okay, even if you don’t like each other, I need you both this evening at the party/business meeting. Here it’s your room number,” he handed the card to the lawyer. “You can put your stuff there and talk everything out. So you don’t kill each other and I’ll see you at 11:30 pm,” he said and walked away.

You and the lawyer entered the elevator, doors closed behind you, as a redhead pressed the 10-floor button.

“Really?! ‘A crazy bitch out around there’ – Gossip Girl,” the woman said looking at you with narrowed eyebrows, you could quite puzzle if it was a slight surprise or more dismay in her eyes.

“What, Natasha?! It was a great TV show”. Romanoff rolled her eye’s searching for something in her purse.

She was adding her now found red lip gloss on her lips as she said, “Well, at least you could have said something from “Sex And City”. You threw a playful look at her answer.

You admired Natasha’s stunning figure before you. Your eyes climbed up from her legs to her hips, you licked your lips at the sight. Then your look shifter through red-heads spine until you met forest green eyes staring at you through a mirror. Your breath hit at the back of your throat and your face spread a horrible blush, you could never control it around her, so you quickly glanced away.

You could feel that Natasha was smirking at the effect she still had on you. She turned around facing you, her right arm resting on one of your shoulders, stepping a bit closer, making you look back at her.

“Hmm, still this adorable and shy Y/L/N,” Romanoff said, but to her surprise, a mischievous smile spread your lips that always took Natasha’s breath away. You bushed Natasha against the elevator wall making her gasp. Her eyes so intensively pierced at you.

You leaned forwards closing so little space between the two of you, brushing your lips through the red-heads firm jaw, making Natasha close her eyes and part her lips at the sensation of your warm soft lips against her skin. A short moment later your lips travelled up to her ear to whisper, “Don’t you ever dare to forget Romanoff, I can play nice, but we both know, that I drive you crazy even more when I don’t.” On your face appeared an even bigger smirk as you felt Natasha’s body vibrate at your words.

You looked up at the little screen which now showed the tenth floor. You pulled off the red-head and stood at the other side of the elevator, leaving Romanoff heavily breathing. As the elevator door opened, you quickly stepped out calling “Are you coming or not, Romanoff?” and with a big smile kept walking, it felt good knowing you still influenced her.

---

You sat down on a king-size beg leaning your elbows on your thighs, burring your face in your hands. One thought kept bugging you ever since Natasha entered this grand hotel lobby ‘Why was she here?! I thought this mission was classified.’ You knew it wouldn’t stop eating you alive until you figured it out.

“Why you here?” you suddenly asked with such a serious tone, making Natasha stop in her tracks.

“What do you mean? It’s a mission” she asked surprised at your sudden questionnaire.

“My mission!” a frustrated shout escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You quickly looked down instantly feeling embarrassed of such childish behaviour of yours. “I just meant... I-.. I thought…” and suddenly it hit you. “I thought Fury trusted me enough..” you heard Natasha shift in her position walking closer to you. “I thought you all believed that I can do it”.

“No, stop”, you suddenly felt Natasha’s hands on your knees, you looked up to look at her, her facial expression was so soft. “He trusts you, we trust you..”, you chuckled in disbelief looking away from her. She cupped your cheek, to make you meet her eyes again. This time her face shadowed a slight worry, “We were just so worried about you..” your jaw tightened giving a clear expression that ‘you are not a child and can take care of yourself’ and she read your mind perfectly as she said “I know.. I know.. but I couldn’t leave you alone in this.. not after the last time.. I-“ she closed her eyes struggling to say the last words and your heart ached at it “I would never forgive myself if I let something happened to you… again”

This time your hand cupped the side of her face, your thumps brushing her cheekbones “Nothing will happen to me, Nat, I am stronger than I have ever been” your eyes were filled with promise. Natasha smiled softly, nodding her head. You knew it’s gonna take more than a few words for her to let you off the leash, but it was a start.

Fifteen minutes were left until you needed to leave this room and go to that damn party. Natasha to your surprise seemed way too excited for it. You would lie if you said you weren’t boiling from curiosity and may that was a bit of jealousy as to why she was so thrilled to go to that room full of strangers who probably have done countless horrible things and especially to that moran Laurentis.

But you just kept your head low, pretending that you didn’t care, pretending that you were concentrating on the mission as you were gazing at the wooden floor.

Her finger lifts your chin, making you look up into her forest green eyes that you could drown in with the biggest smirk on her face. She leaned forwards a bit seductively and said “I can’t wait to bring you back to this hotel room tonight..”

Your eyes shadowed lust. Natasha saw it and gulped. You suddenly gripped her hips making her straddle your lap. She gasped at your sudden move, but a moment later her breath became heavy and hot as she felt something hard through your pants. She glanced down for a split second just to a moment later lookup to meet your darkened eyes with a mischievous grin. Her breath audibly stutter.

You leaned forwards shadowing your mouth just above her right shoulder. You felt her shift in your lap in need of closeness. You started to gaze your lips through her soft skin. Then up to her long velvet neck, lightly inhaling the sweet perfume. She slowly tried to shift back and forth in order to get some friction, but your hands firmly kept her grounded on your lap. Your lips ghosted her sensitive skin just enough to make her shiver but not enough to leave the trail of kisses that Natasha was desperately craving for judging by the way she stretched her neck to give you more space to work with. But you didn’t, making her clearly frustrated.

“Somebody is in a good mood,” she said not betraying how annoyed she was by your teasing.

You smirked against her skin and lightly hummed. Finally, your delicate lips reached her earlobe. You slightly gazed at it with your tongue and whispered “Hmm, yes, exactly”.

Suddenly you grabbed her neck, making her look directly into your eyes. She tensed up against you, she was not expecting that. Your lips were inches apart, you could feel her hot breath shadowing your lips every time she breathed out. “So you better not misbehave.. mommy,” you said with a firm tone, your eyes more serious than ever, by the pulse on her neck you could feel her heart running a marathon.

Natasha gulped once again and nodded overwhelmed by how attracted she was to you at this right moment. “Yes, daddy” she only said, but of course she had other plans for you tonight.

[neonacity]

Black Daisies: Chapter 1

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. 

Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings. 

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. 

Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here--they’re all sweetiepies that need to be protected! 

That’s all! Enjoy! 

Slight static sounded from the earpiece as the woman behind a computer pressed a small button to activate it. A few miles away from her, the same low hum could be heard from the ear of a young man as the line came alive. The boy barely moved from the shadows where he was crouching, his head twitching just a little bit at the alert. 

“Haechan, target just entered from the main hall, door A,” a voice sounded from the small electronic bud attached to his ear. His eyes lifted to look at the shadowy pillars above his head where a quick glint of light confirmed that another boy hidden there heard the same words. 

“Got it, noona. Plan C?”

“Plan C. Where are Jisung and Chenle?”

“Two floors down from us. Jaemin’s with them. Renjun’s done with the wires.”

“Jeno, you good?”

Up above the rafters from Haechan’s head, a darker shade of shadows moved. The metallic glint flashed again, followed by a low sigh that could be heard from the earpieces of the two people involved in the conversation.

“So I can’t use my gun again?”

“No. I already told you, right? What’s family rule number 2?” The female voice answered from the other end of the line, a tinge of laughter lacing her tone. Haechan giggled softly from beneath the rafters, enjoying the banter. 

“....we don’t shoot people in the head and kill them.” 

“That’s right.” From her screen, the woman’s eyes followed the movements of their targets as the man boarded the elevator that would take him straight to the penthouse of the high rise building. Her nose wrinkled a bit as she watched him wound his arms around two giggling women who look half his age. 

Disgusting. 

“...there’s something we can do though…”

Haechan tightened the scruff of his gloves as he heard the soft hum of the elevator climbing closer to where he and Jeno are. He smirked slightly to himself as the welcome ding from the penthouse reverberated just one floor below them.

“We put them in their right place.”

“Good luck, boys.” 

A soft buzzing sound indicated the earpiece temporarily being turned off the same time loud explosions sounded from the floor and roof of the penthouse.

“Noona!” 

I whipped around on my creaky swivel chair to face the group that just bounded through the door, wide grin plastered on my face. The blonde boy who called my name closed the distance between us with his long, excited strides, cheeks plump from his smile. 

“Look what I got you! Pretty nice, eh?” He asked with pride as he took a seat beside me, opening his palm to show a blood red stone nestled there. I moved a little forward to squint at it before gingerly picking it up. 

“Red diamond. I think two carats, at least. Wow, that’s impressive, Chenle! Thank you.”

The boy’s grin widened as he turned to the others who just settled on the scattered chairs and bean bags across the plain cement floor. 

“See? I told you she’d like it!” 

“We almost got busted because he wanted to take it.” Another boy with light purplish hair piped up from one of the bean bags on the ground. It’s adorable how only half of his body could fit on it, leaving him with no choice but to splay his long legs on the floor. 

“Did not.” 

“Did yes.” 

“Shut up, Jisung. You’re just jealous I’m the one who got it for her tonight.”

I chuckled from my seat, rolling the princess cut diamond against my palm. The kids always do this--if it’s not Chenle who is giving gifts from their little rendezvous, it was the others. It was a sweet act, at least if anyone counts out the fact that it came from ransacking a high profile businessman’s penthouse.

“Who wants some ramen? I’m starving.” A black-haired boy asked from across the room where a counter was set-up to serve as the headquarters’ kitchen. Five heads whipped up and gave various forms of yes, making him turn towards the group, one hand on his hip. 

“Yah, Lee Haechan. Help me cook.”

A groan sounded from the leather couch as the boy in question winced at the request.

“But I’m tired. I detonated two bombs today!”

“And I had to unlock three high-security safes. Come on.” 

I chuckled as I watched Haechan pull himself up from the couch, his boots still on. Three consecutive beeps from the monitor behind me made me turn back towards the table again, fingers tapping over some keys to review the message.

“Noona, how about you? You want some?”

“No, thanks, Jaemin. Just ate,” I flashed him a quick smile before turning to read the notification on the screen. Slowly, the corners of my lips lifted into a full grin as my eyes finished scanning the words. 

“127’s back from Tokyo. They got the goods well and secured.”

“Whoah, really? I gotta ask Mark-hyung if he was able to get me my favorite chips!” A boy with black and white hair said as he swiped his phone up from the back of his pants pocket to send a quick message. Beside him, Jeno propped his head up from one of the love chairs, looking at me. 

“Who sent the message?” 

“Doyoung.” 

“Did he--”

“P.S. Tell Jeno I got him the silencer he wants,” I read the closing note on the message with an amused eye roll and a smile. Jeno gave an excited whoop from behind me, clearly excited over his new toy. 

I quickly shot a reply to the message, making sure to give them a quick update from my end. A green logo flashed after I hit send, a special kind of cyber filter that automatically deletes all traces of conversation that passes through my computer at my command. My eyes registered the familiar three letters before it flickered and glitched to black. 

NCT. 

For anyone living a mundane life, those three letters might be senseless. However, it’s a different case altogether for anyone who is in any shape or form involved with the underground. It’s a name that is often said in low whispers of reverence… or spat with spite. Whichever of the two, the name itself only means one thing to those who know it: the top mafia group ruling the underground of Seoul--if not the whole of Korea. 

The “family,” as I’d  like to call it, is divided into three different smaller sub-groups of varying specializations and activities. First is 127, the primary group in power over Seoul. The unit specializes in drug dealings, assassinations, and smuggling of firearms, and its members are also the ones managing the many businesses (both legal and illegal) falling under the protection of NCT. As the group with the most experienced members, they are also the ones who often go across countries like Japan where they also have their own hold. Limitations and Prohibitions: none.

The second group; Dream. Despite having the youngest members, the sub-group also has its own chokehold over the city of Seoul. Specialization: Heists and Ambushes. It doesn’t matter if it is a high-tech bank or a high-walled fortress like Alcatraz--once Dream sets its sights on a bounty, they’ll make sure to get it. Limitations and Prohibitions: no killing allowed. 

Finally, the third cluster: WayV; the current ruling crime group of China. Specialization: Organized Cyber crimes and biological warfare . While the sub-group has its original roots in Korea, it didn’t have any problem taking over Beijing’s underground in a few years time. They are considered the visionaries of the family--always one step ahead when it comes to anything technology touches and influences. Limitations and Prohibitions: none.

I leaned back against the chair and gave a soft sigh. Compared to the others, I don’t have as much exposure to the so-called thrills of the job. Still, I do admit that being the eyes and ears of the whole group is not a leisurely walk in the park. It’s been a few months of being temporarily assigned to Dream, but with 127 back, work will surely double again in no time. Not that I’m complaining with how well the job pays, of course--I did get a blood red diamond today, after all--but things sure can get tough sometimes. 

Lifting my arms up, I gave myself a well-deserved stretch before kicking back from the desk. The smell of ramen hit my nose, making me smile. Another day, another job well done. 

“Hey Jaemin, changed my mind about that ramen. I think I’ll have it after all.” 

Chapter 2: Overture

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Eight.

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 3,665

Warnings - SMUT!

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

Chapter playlist - My Ruin - Fever (This song is the anthem to how much of a tempest their sex life is!)

‘When are you on your break?’

‘2:30pm. You?’

‘I can rearrange and have a later lunch, I’m not seeing any clients until 4pm. I did feel like ordering out for Chinese, but I’d rather have Australian. Meet me at my apartment at 2:45pm?’

‘Yeah, I’ll be there.’

“Good. I can’t wait to hear you tell me how much you want me.’  

She was a little tease, and he more than willingly let her be, moving from the staff room into the interview room he was due to take a witness statement. All the time, he felt his heart doing somersaults with excitement at the prospect of a quick lunchtime fuck, out of there as soon as he was finished and into his truck, arriving just as Zoey was getting out of her car.  

They walked coolly into her apartment block, calling the elevator with their hearts hammering, diving on one another as soon as the doors slid closed.  

“So, what was that you wanted to hear, how much I want you? I can be more specific, though. I can tell you that for the last three days, all I’ve been able to think about is having my mouth right here.” His hands reached between her legs, grasping her, evoking a little whine. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? For me to have my mouth full of this pretty little cunt, lick you until you scream and then bend you over something and pound the life out of you.”  

“Stop talking about it and just do it.” Of course, they shouldn’t have. But they did, Tyler picking her up and carrying her out of the elevator and down to her apartment, kicking the door shut behind him once she’d wrestled with the lock. He had planned on eating a burger for lunch. Turns out, he preferred something much more delectable.

Placing her down atop her marble breakfast bar that ran alongside the back of the kitchen area in her open plan abode, he took a moment to appreciate how gorgeous she looked, wearing a light grey skirt and jacket, undoing the buttons to reveal a black lace body suit beneath.  

“So, you’re going to give me one of my fantasies then, big guy?” She purred, lifting her bum so he could remove her skirt.

“Give me enough time and I’ll give you all of them.” She liked the sound of that, kissing him hungrily. “Which one in particular this time?”

“Having a man in uniform fuck me so hard, I can’t see straight afterwards.” Those words, coupled with the seductive glide of her nails down the sides of his neck made heat sear through him.

“You’ve come to the right place for that.” One yank had her bodysuit poppers undone, Tyler pushing her back against the counter to swiftly bury his mouth at her apex. Her body jerked sharply as the introduction of his tongue to her, a long, slow, flat lick sliding through her slit and over her clit, the action repeated, Zoey’s insides fizzing with delight.  

It seldom took any time at all for him to reduce her to a moaning mess of a woman against his mouth, which was entirely necessary, given their short time frame to enjoy one another in. Licking her until he was wet and gaping, he straightened up, undoing his trousers and freeing his cock, plunging it straight into her soaking centre with a relieved grunt to be back inside of his lover once more.  

It was scandalously hot, her legs tightening around him as he fucked her savagely, his gun pressing against the back of her thigh, hands gripping her bum so hard, his nails left red crescents behind, his mouth sucking a welt at the side of her throat she knew she’d have to rush to cover with makeup before leaving for the office once more. She wouldn’t tell him no. She liked it when he marked her, left something of him behind.  

He made her cum so hard that she could barely walk in a straight line afterwards. Returning to work and her meetings, all the while still able to feel him there inside her from how assiduously he’d pounded her.  

The next time they saw one another wasn’t until Sunday evening, after he’d spent all day out with his children, telling Ella he was heading to the gym.  

“Yeah, you might as well go somewhere where you’ll be of use,” she muttered, Tyler not quite being able to believe his ears.

“I’ve spent all day with the kids, how is that not of use?”

“Well, you’re of no use to me, let’s put it that way.”

“Wow.” He snorted, laughing darkly. “Just when I think you can’t out-bitch yourself.” Was it the beginning of the end for them? Until she wanted to stop acting this nastily and coldly towards him, then he was beginning to see it that way, certainly. He knew it wasn’t right to use this as a way to try and reconcile his affair with Zoey in his mind either, promising himself he’d put a stop to it, if or when Ella ever did come round.  

An affair was exactly what it was now, full blown and heated, falling into it without discussion, just the excitement that they were continuing this illicit, forbidden enjoyment of one another.  

“Answering the door in blankets now, hmm?” He questioned upon his arrival, arching an eyebrow at her questioningly. Walking in, Zoey shut the door behind him dropping the blanket as he made his way into the apartment.  

“Yeah, but that was only in case someone walked past in the hallway and saw me like this.” Turning back to her, he grinned widely at the sight of her nudity, “I’m going for a shower. You coming?”

Watching her saunter around to the bathroom, he was more than happy to be played that way, removing his t shirt and kicking off his trainers and socks as he followed her. “I have a feeling I will be.” Arriving in the bathroom, he found her already within the cubicle, removing his jeans and boxers before joining her, hands immediately roaming her soapy body, his fingertips chasing suds over her pert breasts, her nipples pebbling under his touch.  

She’d been longing for his hands for days, craving him, her own hand only offering short term satiation from what he’d ignited within her, needing him to be the flame to her kindling, burn her down to her very bones, as he always did. Her head lolled back against his chest as he laid attentive kisses at her neck, one hand still at her breasts while the other slipped between her legs, expert fingers rubbing at her clit.  

Fire sizzled through her veins, heat rising up her spine as he stroked her deftly, a hand fisting into her hair, pulling her head back with primal dominance as he leaned to kiss her wantonly. He was hard, the big cock that gave her so much illimitable enjoyment pressing against her lower back.  

Turning in his grasp, she looked up at him smoulderingly, circling his nipple with her tongue before biting it, letting it slide from within her teeth, making him burn. “Fuck me, Tyler. I need you.”

At least somebody did.  

Without hesitation, he lifted her, Zoey wrapping her legs around his waist, reaching between them to guide his cock to her opening, aligning them perfectly. He arrowed into her deeply, turning to press her back against the tiles, carefully manoeuvring her so he had her legs draped over his arms, holding them wide apart as be began to pound her savagely.  

There was no gradual build, no grace period, just urgent, animalistic sex right there beneath the water. It was everything they needed, overpowering in the erotic, so staggeringly hot, their connection completely overwhelming. If perfect sex existed, they’d definitely found such in each other. It only continued to get better as well.  

A couple of weeks on, when Ella was away having a girl’s weekend with old university friends and the children were with Tyler’s mum having a sleepover with their beloved granny, Tyler absconded himself within Zoey’s apartment, spending most of Saturday afternoon working out much of his pent-up desire upon her. It was as they were lying on the bed in a state naked contentment, Tyler thinking that she couldn’t be much more sexually perfect, when she chose to reveal something that most definitely did make her just that.  

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Her eyeroll made him snort laughing.  

“Would you be averse to using toys on me?” The size of his grin and double raise of his eyebrows told her that no, he definitely wouldn’t be.

“What did you have in mind?”  

“Being doubly penetrated. I’ve only ever done it by myself with two dildos before, so I’d like one of the cocks in me to be a flesh and blood man. What are you grinning at?”

“Imagining everything you just told me.”

“I have rope too. Ideally, I’d like for you to have me tied up while you’re doing it.”

The way he looked at her, well, if dark lust had a face, it would have been Tyler’s in that moment. “Zoey, why are we still talking about this?” She laughed, swinging off the side of the bed to locate her pleasure chest, as she referred to it as, swinging the heavy lid open and pulling a glass dildo and a coil of rope from within.  

It had been over a decade since he’d been with someone who was also into kink. Ella wasn’t keen at all, not into anything he was about to enjoy with Zoey. Sitting astride him, her hair all tousled, her smoky eye makeup a little more smudged and with a collection of love bites across her chest from him, she looked mouth-watering. The way she took the rope and gave it a little sharp tug between her hands added to it exponentially, a shudder running through him.  

“I might have to tie you up first,” she purred, leaning forward and licking a swipe slowly up the centre of his chest, feeling his cock hardening at her apex.  

“I’ll wait my turn. Hand the rope over, someone’s about to get bound.” Oh, how he aroused the hell out of her, the slight baleful tone he used, his gravelly voice deepened from lust, the way he speedily winked as she placed the rope into his outstretched hand, it all left her insides practically effervescing with ardour.

He bounced her around atop him for a moment, grinning so widely she couldn’t contain her giggles before moving out from under her and looping the rope around each of the bed posts, tying the ends in a series of intricate knots around her wrists, binding them together with a knotted section that joined the lengths lashed to the bed.  

Once he’d restrained her, he moved to kneel behind her. “Arse up.” Immediately, she moved to her knees, her perfectly rounded bum rutting against him. “Good girl.” He sucked his fingers, pushing them into her hot centre, a faint moan escaping his mouth when he felt her heat pulse around them.  

As she lay there, feeling as he began to firmly press and stroke at her g spot, Zoey could barely contain her excitement, not just as a result of what his fingers stirred, but of course, over what he was about to do to her. Her muscles began to slick, pulsing around the ministrations he drove into her more rapidly, his free hand coming down in a hard smack against her bum.  

She glimmered strongly, ebullience skittering through her, his fingers retreating, his middle digit then pushing against the puckered muscle of her anus, sliding within, the cool glass of the dildo at her soaking hole, being buried within her deeply. Another finger slipped into her narrow passage, scissoring her until she yielded, opening her up ready to feed in the drenched glass phallus.

The noise she made when he did? He nearly came on the spot.  

Her mouth dropped open, smooth coolness invading her with shallow strokes to begin with, Tyler showing care not to give her too much too soon, the slap of his hand on her stinging cheek making her giggle naughtily as she bit her lip and pulled against her rope fastenings. Her pussy fluttered madly, desiring nothing more than to be filled as well, the sight of her contracting around nothing enticing him strongly.

Pushing against her slippery opening, he slid in with a deep groan, filling both her holes so deliciously, the sound that came from her mouth was not one she recognised. His shuddered breaths came shakily, his heart quickening as the arousal charged through him, her cries filling the air. She felt helpless to the pleasure he gave, lost in it, a swirling tempest that engulfed her entirely.  

Fuck! Fuck.” She gritted, her hands grasping the intricately knotted ropes that fastened her, Tyler behind her, spearing her pussy deep in tandem with working the dildo in and out of her orifice.  

“You like that too much, don’t you? My little kinky princess,” he growled lustfully, watching her back flush with goosepimples, slapping her rounded bum hard with his free hand, gripping the cheek as he drove himself into her more forcefully.  

“Deeper, please!”

“What, me or the dildo?”

“Both!”

“Damn, that’s cock hungry.” He did as she requested though, driving both his phallus and the glass one into her until they rutted, Zoey exclaiming over and over as she began to spasm madly around him. He continued to lay slaps to her bum cheek, the skin red and stinging, her gratification overwhelming.  

It all culminated, each ragged pant escalating them closer, the coiling of their releases hot and full bodied, Zoey tingling as the heat rose sharply, her sensitive walls dragged with overcoming duality, the thick hardness of him sending her crashing into a mess of fluid explosion, her release tumbling through her, taking him with her, his body quaking uncontrollably in the aftermath as he pulled out and watched his load drip from her onto the sheets below.  

After untying her, he gave the most perfect aftercare, massaging her sore wrists as she lay against him, kissing her shampoo scented hair, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss.  

“I’m hungry. I think I’m going to order from Vincente’s.” The sudden sharp turn of his head to face her, coupled with wide eyes and a huge grin made Zoey explode with laughter. Her sister hated pizza, having a disgust for hot cheese, so as far as takeout went, the best pizzeria in Brisbane was always out of the equation for Tyler. Not that evening, though.  

“Get some of the thingies as well,” he requested, Zoey getting up off the bed.  

“Thingies?” She teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Thingies with the things!” He could never remember the name.  

“You’ll have to specify.”

“Stop being an arsehole, Zo! You know what I mean!”  

“The spiendi?”  

“Yes!”

“The things you called the spidooli one time?”

“Do you wanna get cracked in the head with a dildo? Don’t make me choose violence!” Picking it up, he shook it in her direction, Zoey in absolute hysterics.

“Then you’ll have nothing to stick up my arse,” she reminded him, descending the mezzanine stairs to fetch her phone.

“Oh, I have something. I’ll give you a clue; it’s big and attached to me.”

“That’s too big!”

“We’ll see.”  

“I’m at full clench right now!” He snorted laughing at her words, shaking his head as he sat up, thinking what a good evening he was having with her so far. It was then that it hit him, how easily this had all happened between them, how it felt just like he remembered being at the start of a new relationship with someone. All shiny, new and exciting.

Except it wasn’t what this was.

He was married.

This was an affair. No more, no less.

But that evening, it did feel like more. He reasoned it away though, since he and Zoey were good friends, of course they were going to fall into moments like this when they had more time together than purely just to enjoy fucking one another. It was nothing more than that.  

For the rest of the night, they behaved more like buddies, drinking beer and eating the gigantic, wood fired pizza while watching the recorded rugby match from earlier that day, which they’d forgone watching live in favour of banging the life out of each other all afternoon.

Much shuffling in their seats, standing, sitting, shot sinking (once Zoey brought over the Jägermeister) shouting at the ref and other yelled observations at the screen later and they’d watched their boys play to victory, having a fantastic night that culminated in more wild sex. He had to leave early the next morning for work, spending perhaps a little too long kissing her at the door before hightailing it out of there, leaving Zoey free to prepare for Paris’s lunchtime arrival.  

Throwing a chicken and some veggies into a large pan and in the oven with a few chopped up lemons and lots of thyme, she went about cleaning up her apartment, including the cum sodden sheets she sent round in the washing machine, her thoughts thereafter all revolving around the absolute marathon she’d enjoyed with Tyler upon them.  

She was getting much too used to enjoying him, she knew this, beginning now to find ways to justify their affair, now a day away from one month on, rather than kicking herself over indulging in something that she knew full well would break her sister’s heart. The arse kicking she needed was on its way, though...

“This is rather manly for your jewellery tastes,” Paris noted a while after she’d arrived, pulling a leather cuff style bracelet from down the side of the armchair.  

“Oh, it’s Tyler’s,” she explained, completely without thinking of the implications of that revelation.

“He was here? After what you told me?”

“Yeah, he came to watch the rugby with me last night.” Her reply, although technically true, but part of a bigger picture she wanted to keep to herself, was delivered much too quickly for someone as sharp as Paris not to notice. If that didn’t alert her, then the way Zoey’s cheeks began to flush gave it away.  

“Oh no, you did not.” She waited for her to object, but she couldn’t. Not with her. Paris was near enough impossible to lie to. Being a litigator meant she was sharper than a razor where bullshit was concerned. “Zoey, for fucks sake! I can’t believe you did it! I cannot believe you fucked him!”  

Closing her eyes, she bit her lip, nodding as she turned to face her. “I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop it, it was bigger than me, than both of us.”

“Oh, that’s a pile of crap, mate! Really, that’s weak. He’s your sister’s husband, for god’s sake!”

“I know.”

“You fucking need to get a hold of yourselves!”

“I know.”

“This? This will never, ever lead to anything good!”

“I know!”  

“Ella won’t ever speak to you again if she finds out. This is bad, Zo. So, so bad!”

“I fucking know, Paris! I know!” She suddenly roared, slamming her hand down on the counter as she burst into tears. It was then she knew that perhaps, she’d pushed a little too far, her face softening as she pulled Zoey into a hug. It was a fault of hers, being too sharp with people.  

“I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be, I think I needed to hear it. I’ve been enjoying it too much without the guilt kicking me right up the arse, as it always should have. It did after the first time, it really did, but it hasn’t since. Then again, I’ve gotten good at blocking it out.”

Paris was just about to yell about it happening more than once, but reined herself in, knowing that Zoey needed her to be softer in that moment. “How many times has it happened?” She asked gently, leading her around to the seats at the breakfast bar.  

“It’s been going on for a month. I think it’s fair to say we’re having an affair now. Once didn’t do it. It’s...I know I shouldn’t try and explain it, but it’s so intense, the most amazing sexual connection I’ve ever known. Stopping it would be tough.”

“But where can it go, though? Because if it carries on, you’ll get found out sooner or later. Where do you see the end point? If you don’t intend on stopping then what, do you expect him to leave Ella for you?”  

They were questions she didn’t have answers to, Zoey living very much in the moment so far throughout the duration of their affair. “I don’t know. I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead.”

It didn’t make sense to Paris that she wouldn’t, but then again, she was much more of a meticulous planner than Zoey. It would have driven her mad, not to have clear boundaries set. That was why she would never make a good candidate for an affair; she was much too rigid. She struggled with the notion of going with the flow.

She also realised that being too rigid was maybe the last thing Zoey needed.  

“So, I’m going to stop being so hard on you, and this doesn’t mean that I think what you’re doing is right, but tell me. How is it?” Emerging from where she’d been hiding her face, Zoey sniffed, Paris reaching to wipe her tears.  

“I’ve never known sex like it. He’s...perfect. Seriously, sometimes it’s that good, I’ve felt close to blacking out.”  

Hearing that, Paris knew that what her friend had gotten herself tangled up in would take a considerable amount of effort to untangle again. That is, if she could be at all.  

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Six

We’re baaaaaack!

Thank y’all for being so patient! I’m really excited for you to read this one <3

Characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove

@donttouchmycarrots is forever my hero for proofreading, dealing with way too much of my own self-doubt, and being the best friend anyone could ask for. My dude, my pal, my babe! I love you more than words can say. <3

Clandestine Masterlist

.

Previously:

Logan was still biting back a smile when someone slid into the seat next to him. His smile faded instantly. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, not right now. And especially not a Snake. The night only got worse when he looked over to the newcomer to face eerie, yellow eyes. He froze, unsure whether to stand his ground or run as fast as he possibly could.

“Enjoying the party?” Riddle asked coolly, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand.

Logan couldn’t decide if the better plan of action was to hold his ground or to run. He stared into creepy, soulless eyes, frozen in place. The voices over his comms and the music of the band faded out to white noise, leaving him to face down Riddle alone.

“Mr. Riddle.” He finally managed to say, keeping his voice even and taking a sip of his drink. “This is a nice party you’ve got here.”

“Thank you. It’s been a long time coming.” Detached, sunken-in eyes regarded him coolly. “I don’t think I've seen you around before.”

“I’m a reporter,” Logan relayed their cover story without hesitation. “Just here getting information for an article I’m writing.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.” Riddle said. There was nothing inherently dangerous about his words. His posture was completely relaxed, his tone even and calm. If Logan didn’t already know his face, he wouldn’t think twice about him if he passed him on the street or saw him in a store. It was eerie how someone with so much blood on their hands could act so… normal. As if he’d done nothing wrong.

Logan itched to take him down. His concealed gun seemed to burn a hole into his dress shirt. He could do it. One quick, well-placed shot and he could end this. He wouldn’t make it out the door and countless gang members would get away, but Riddle was right in front of him. It would be so easy.

“Now, what kind of reporter do you take me for?” He asked instead, pushing the thoughts down. They could get him later when he had an actual plan and backup. As much as he wanted to, this wasn’t the time or place.

Riddle hummed in thought. “You know, I’m not really sure. An unprepared one, I suppose. I don’t see you writing anything down.”

Logan, although his blood had just turned to ice in his veins, had just opened his mouth to lie about a recording device in his pocket when a new voice cut in.

“There you are!”

Logan’s shoulders tensed at the all-too-familiar accent and he turned, his heart plummeting like a stone in his chest, to see Leo standing there. Tall and bright and too precious to be staring danger in the face like this.

“I should’ve known you’d be here.” Leo teased, looking over at Riddle and brazenly greeting him with a fake smile. “Riddle.”

Riddle glanced between the two of them, as unflappable as ever. “Your boyfriend?”

“Coworker.” Logan quickly corrected, ignoring the way his stomach flipped at the misconstruction and sending Leo a warning look. “A coworker who won’t leave me alone tonight, apparently.”

Please take the hint, Nutty. He silently begged. Get the fuck out of here.

Leo shrugged, absolutely remorseless, that little shit. “Well, I’ve got some questions for you. You know this is my first big article and I want to make sure I’ve got all the information I need.”

Oh. Now Logan understood. Leo wasn’t vying for a way to get the flash drive he knew Riddle kept on him, he was trying to get Logan out of there. Before this moment, Logan had never thought of Leo as an intimidating person. Sure, he was big, but he was also soft and gentle and kind. Looking at him now, though, there was this glint in his eyes, this undercurrent of danger that Logan quickly recognized as protectiveness. And frankly, it was a little terrifying.

Was that how people viewed Logan on a regular basis?

Not having time to think too hard on that, Logan nodded. “Sure, I’ll help you out.” He set his unfinished drink on the counter and nodded at Riddle. “Enjoy the rest of your party, and congratulations on the twenty-five years of your organization.”

Riddle seemed to intuitively know something was going on, but he also didn’t particularly seem to care. He was well aware that no one could touch him, especially not at this party. And not without a substantial amount of evidence, which they still didn’t have. Not yet, at least. But Logan couldn’t wait for the day when he got what was coming for him.

He followed Leo across the ballroom without another word to one of the side doors – their planned meeting spot in case things went south – where Finn was waiting, shuffling on his feet and looking a little like he was going to be sick. The tension he was carrying in his posture seemed to ease when he caught sight of them and there wasn’t even a split-second of hesitation before he was herding them out the door, down the lavishly decorated entryway, and towards one of the taxis waiting out front. Logan noticed the way his hands shook as he opened the car door for the two of them, glancing over his shoulder before ducking into the back seat with his partners. Logan wanted nothing more than to reach over and grab hold, to settle those tremors with his own steady hands, but they still weren’t safe yet. Who knew who could be listening in at that moment.

The ride back to the hotel was stilted and hushed and more than a little shell-shocked as they processed the events of the night. They’d been in a den of vipers that were capable of horrific things and they’d somehow managed to get out unscathed, plus they had one more flash drive to add to their growing collection. It almost didn’t feel real.

However, the longer Logan sat in that taxi, the angrier he got. And that definitely felt real. What the hell was Leo thinking, running headfirst into danger like that? Of all the people on this mission, Logan was the most capable of taking care of himself in tense situations like that. Leo had been brash and thoughtless and risky - acting like a true rookie - but Logan couldn’t exactly chew him out in the back of a taxi, so he sat there and fumed. He was sure it was written all over his face for anyone to see, but he no longer cared.

The taxi parked outside their hotel. They paid the driver in silence. They got out in silence. They rode the elevator up to the third floor in silence. They unlocked their door in silence.

And then the dam broke and a tidal wave crashed over it, loud and roaring and livid.

Logan whirled on Leo, not even caring that their door was still open. “Don’t you ever pull something like that again. I had it covered.” He hissed, yanking his earpiece out with one hand and jabbing Leo in the chest with his finger. He hoped the single point of contact it bruised from the force he put behind the motion.

Leo wasn’t backing down easily, though. He stood to his full height and loomed over Logan, anger radiating off him in waves. Apparently he’d been seething in the taxi, as well. “You’d do the same thing if it were me. Why is it ok for you to do it but wrong when the roles are reversed?” He demanded, letting the door slam behind him. Logan saw Finn flinch out of the corner of his eye.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s me, I’m just a grunt. We lose you, we lose our chance to take down the Snakes.” He said the words plainly, cut-and-dry. He knew his place on this mission, and it wasn’t the most critical. He could live with that fact. What he couldn’t live with was losing either of them.

This was exactly why he’d wanted to get off this mission and take another job. If this was what the rest of the op was going to be like, constantly stressing over the two of them but still having to painfully distance himself, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

All the fight seemed to leave Leo in an instant at Logan’s words. He stared down at him with a furrowed brow and wide, sad eyes. “You can’t believe that.”

Logan was left reeling by the sudden change of pace, the rough waves flattening out to a calm sea in the blink of an eye. He just shrugged as he tried to formulate any kind of response. He wasn’t sure what Leo wanted him to say so he just stood there and stared at him, completely at a loss.

Finn cut Leo off as he started to speak, looking firmly between the two as he loosened his tie – still crooked, even after all this time. “Enough. Both of you. Leo, you were out of line. Logan had it handled. I know you meant well, but you know the code word if we need help, so let him do his job instead of prematurely rushing in to be the hero. Logan, if I hear you talk about yourself like that again – well, I’m not actually sure what I’ll do. But it won’t be pretty.” He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up in the closet, haphazardly kicking his shoes off and pushing them with his foot until they were snug against the wall and out of the way.

“We need to talk about tomorrow.” He continued curtly as he rapidly started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“What’s tomorrow?” Leo asked from his perch on the bed as he toyed with the laces of one shoe. Logan followed their lead and started getting ready for bed. His head shot up at Finn’s next words, though.

“My date with June.”

“Who?” He asked, although he knew full-well who she was. He just wanted to be contrary. He knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to pretend to be indifferent to the idea of Finn going on a date with a near stranger, so this was his next best option.

Finn took it in stride, though, not even blinking an eye as he headed for the bathroom. Logan could hear the sink running a second later. “She’s the one setting up my meeting with Lestrange. We’re going to a coffee shop down the street in the morning.”

Leo, clad in the most ridiculous pair of Cookie Monster pajama pants that were too short for him, crawled into bed and shimmied over to be in the middle. Logan felt any residual anger dissipate at the sight. What a dork.

“Do Loops and Sirius know about this?” Leo asked as he fought back a yawn.

Finn poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth and managed to get out a garbled ‘yeah’ before disappearing again. Water could be heard running again, then the light flicked off. The redhead checked to make sure both partners were in bed before turning off the main lights and blindly stumbling his way towards the bed.

“Sirius heard everything, gave me the all clear. Loops was…” Finn trailed off into silence, dampening the mood again as they thought of their coworker.

“Yeah.” Leo said quietly, shifting from his back to his side to give Finn more room. Logan could just barely make out his face through the shadows, illuminated faintly in yellow by the lights of the parking lot outside their window.

“We’ll come with you.” Logan was saying before he realized just what that entailed. “Neither of us met her at the gala, so we can hide out in the corner of the shop or something and keep an eye on you.”

Finn snorted half-heartedly. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“We’re not taking any chances with these guys, and you know it.” Logan rebutted, leaving no room for argument. “You’ve got an alarm set?”

“Mmmhmm.” Came the sleepy, mumbled reply. Logan smiled, not bothering to hide the affection on his face. The shadows did that for him. He lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Get some sleep, then. We can go over details in the morning.”

The only response he got was slow, even breathing.

***

Remus felt one of the couch cushions sag next to him as Sirius sat down, the old wooden supports creaking a little under their combined weight. He turned his distracted gaze from the miraculously revived plant on the windowsill to the man beside him when he felt a gentle nudge against his arm. There Sirius sat, gray eyes calm and free of pity – thank god. Remus wasn’t sure he could deal with people being sorry for him anymore. In his hands was a cup of tea, steam swirling over the brim and disappearing into the air. Remus huffed out a faint laugh, all he could muster at the moment, and gave Sirius a dubious look.

“I only added, like, a spoonful of honey this time. That’s it.” Sirius vowed, holding the cup farther out for Remus to take. He grabbed it, warmth finally reaching poorly-circulated fingers, and took in the faint smell of apple.

“Thanks.” He murmured before taking a cautious sip. The tea hadn’t been steeped for long enough, but at least this one was drinkable. Sirius, who was eagerly awaiting his verdict, seemed to glean all the information he needed from Remus’ face. He smiled and relaxed back into the couch, looking extremely proud of himself.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Remus said as he took another sip. “You’ve still got a lot to learn about brewing tea.”

“Well, I've got a good teacher.” The combination of the words and the tea infused Remus with warmth, and he finally smiled for the first time that night. Sirius seemed to slump further into the cushions, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Remus peered over the top of his teacup at wild black curls and just a hint of a five-o-clock shadow dusting across pale skin and figured he should get rid of the elephant in the room. He hated to ruin the peacefulness of the moment and there was nothing he wanted less than to bring up this conversation, but he felt like it had to be said.

“So about earlier-”

Sirius was quick to cut him off, which grated on Remus’ nerves. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I just wanted to apologize. And to say thank you.” He looked down at the cup in his hands and forced himself to continue. “As a handler, I’m supposed to be able to keep my emotions in check and focus on the job. But every single time someone brings him up…” Remus shrugged, fingers itching to reach up and clutch at his shoulder as feral eyes and a gnarled smile haunted his mind’s eye. He gripped his tea tighter instead, hoping it would hide the tremors in his hands. “Seeing him in pictures is one thing. Hearing his voice in real time and knowing he’s right there, I just – I freaked out.”

“I can’t say I blame you.” Sirius said, then winced. “Sorry. I, uh, I read the report. And judging by your face you don’t want to talk about it, which is fine.” He rushed to say and then sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “Wow, I’m bad at this. I’m just – I’m here for you, ok? In whatever way you need.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile at his awkward attempt at comfort. He wasn’t exactly good with words, but Remus would give just about anything for one of those hugs right then. He took a sip of tea instead. “Right back at you.”

Sirius flashed a warm, albeit surprised smile in return. They sat like that in companionable silence for a while, Remus drinking his tea and Sirius sprawled out on the couch, kicking one foot in a varying rhythm. It was odd for Remus to think about, even though Sirius had shown up months ago. He technically had a criminal living with him. He never thought he’d be happy about that fact. But here he was, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up next to him and get to know every different facet of this ex-Snake. What made him tick, what kept him up at night, what he dreamed about when he finally went to sleep.

But at the end of the day, what difference would that make? Sirius had made it abundantly clear he wasn’t sticking around when this mission was over. Remus wasn’t about to go and get more attached when the outcome wasn’t going to change. Remus would be left alone, again, dropped right back into his old life as if nothing had ever happened. Back to his small apartment with his dying houseplant, scrambling around in the mornings to get a cup of tea before work, sitting on the ratty couch and suffocating in the silence and loneliness. Sirius entered his life like a fog rolling in on a dark night, and he would leave the same way – without a trace.

***

Logan was drumming his fingers on the tabletop as Leo sat down across from him, cups of coffee in hand. The line of impatient customers inside the coffee shop was long due to the morning rush, but most of the tables were deserted. Logan had his back to the wall and full view of the rest of the shop, ready to keep an eye on Finn and his new friend as soon as they got there.

He tried his hardest to ignore the jealousy that coursed through his veins at the thought. This wasn’t going to be fun.

A hand covered his on the table, stopping his frantic drumming. Logan looked up into a steady blue gaze with depths that seemed to know exactly how he was feeling. He almost seemed to empathize with Logan, and that made him pause. He thought back to the very beginning of all this and focused on his partners’ interactions – cinnamon muffins and fingers brushing as Finn handed one to Leo, Leo sprawled out in the backseat after his first heist with Finn smiling back at him from the passenger’s seat, Leo worriedly staring at the bruise blooming across Finn’s cheek, the looks on their faces as they danced to a slow song.

Oh.

Logan had just opened his mouth to ask Leo about it when the bell on the shop door sounded, signaling the arrival of new customers. He looked up from his caramel mocha and his gaze flickered. “They’re here.”

Sure enough, Finn and June were making their way to the counter, deep in conversation. June said something to make Finn laugh, and Leo’s shoulders tensed at the sound. He took a calm, measured drink of his coffee and didn’t look over his shoulder at their partner. Logan was looking similarly miserable across the table from him, swirling the contents of his cup dejectedly.

“We’re really bad at this.” Leo stated plainly. Logan’s eyes shot up to meet his and he let out a surprised laugh, shifting in his seat.

“Yeah, we are.” Logan responded, eyes flitting from the partner directly in front of him to the one still in line, then back again. Leo seemed to belong in coffee shops, all golden and warm and comfortable. Sunlight from the large front windows illuminated him from the back, making him seem to glow like some mystical faerie. Normally, Logan wasn’t a fan of mornings but if this – not the spying, per se, but the sleepy jokes over coffee cups and the soft smiles and the calm assuredness that always seemed to surround Leo – was the result of getting up early, he’d get up at the crack of dawn for the rest of his life.

A glint of dark copper caught his eye and he looked over Leo’s shoulder to see Finn sit down at one of the empty tables, pushing a coffee cup over to June. She smiled and wrapped both hands around it, looking up at Finn with a smile.

Logan had been shot before. Multiple times. And stabbed, and punched more times than he could count. There was once an incident involving barbed wire (don’t ask). But watching Finn with this girl he’d just met last night, smiling and flirting and seeming to be over the moon, was a new kind of torture. And all Logan could do was sit there and watch.

His eyes snapped back to Leo, who was already watching him with a steady, pensive look. “Need a distraction?” He asked simply. Logan appreciated that. He wasn’t forcing Logan to face his thoughts or – god forbid – talk about them. He let Logan have his space to decide how he wanted to move forward, to process these overwhelming feelings in his own time.

“Please.” Logan managed to get out, pushing his unfinished coffee away from him. So Leo talked. He told stories about his childhood, how he grew up, how he got into pick-pocketing and how he got caught doing it by his Mama. Logan kept a watchful eye on Finn, making sure he was safe, and let Leo’s stories wash over him, calm and steadying. It was a bit of a strange juxtaposition, the soft voice warring with the potential of being in danger, but it soothed him all the same.

Finn was enjoying himself. June was awesome, and she had a lot of insight on Lestrange and the Snakes, although it was clear she despised them. He wasn’t sure how she got tangled up in this mess, but he hoped he could get her out of there when they finally took the gang down. But as fantastic as June was, he couldn’t keep himself from bouncing his leg under the table or sneaking surreptitious glances at the far corner of the room, where a blond and a brunet were leaning towards each other across the table. Logan smiled at something Leo said, nose scrunching as Leo gesticulated wildly about whatever he was saying. Finn so desperately wanted to be there with them, to tease Leo for the story he was telling and to kiss the laugh on Logan’s lips. He looked away quickly when green eyes met his and tried his best to refocus on June.

She gave him a knowing look, then glanced at his partners. “You’re in love with someone else, aren’t you?” 

Finn froze, trying to come up with some sort of excuse, then sighed and gave up. This was June. And they’d only just met the night before, but Finn knew how to read people. It was literally his job. She wasn’t going to tell anyone. “Something like that. It’s complicated.”

She smiled. “Does it need to be complicated, or are you just making it that way?”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed, a hint of hysteria sprinkled in. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“But you want that.” She said, jerking her head towards Logan and Leo. For a split-second, Finn thought she knew that he wanted them in particular, but then she continued. “Being able to be with the person you love, out in the open, with no obstacles in your way.”

If only she knew how spot-on that statement was.

“Yeah,” Finn said quietly, wistfully. “I really do.”

He watched as Logan grabbed one of Leo’s moving hands, narrowly keeping him from spilling one of the mugs on their table. Logan’s posture showed exasperation, but his eyes... his eyes told a completely different story.

Finn spoke again, more to himself than to June. It was a vow, a hope, a rose-tinted dream of the future. “Maybe someday.”

***

Logan wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after what felt like way too long – who stayed at a coffee shop this long, anyways? – Finn and June seemed to be wrapping things up. They returned their mugs to the front counter and headed towards the door, but not without Finn glancing over his shoulder at his partners, an indecipherable expression on his face as he stepped out into the sun.

“They’re headed out now.” Logan stated, looking back to Leo. “Want to get back to the hotel?”

Leo gathered their mugs and got to his feet. “How about a walk first? We could be tourists for a while, see the sights.”

“It’s a big city, Nut. They all look the same.” Logan flashed a smile of thanks at the barista working the counter as Leo passed over their mugs. They stepped outside into the cool morning air and got hit by the sound of traffic echoing from the streets to the tall buildings around them. Logan sent Leo an ‘I told you so’ look, but still followed after him as he walked in the opposite direction of the hotel.

They ended up wandering around the streets of downtown Slytherin for about an hour, getting very lost (“don’t tell Finn”), and giving up. Even then, it was fun. For the first time in what felt like years, there was no ticking clock, no pressure, no imminent danger. It was simple, it was easy. Their own little adventure without the stress. Logan eventually had to fish out his phone to pull up directions back to the hotel, doing a full one-eighty in order to start going the right direction. The app led them through several back alleys and side roads, which made Logan a little uneasy. Leo didn’t seem to mind.

“I wonder if the Chopped marathon is still on TV.” Leo mused absentmindedly as he dodged a trashcan obscuring the alleyway. Logan laughed and bump his shoulder into Leo’s as they walked side by side.

“You’re something else, Nutty.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” Leo said, unconsciously slowing to a stop. Logan followed suit, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, eyes drifting from Leo’s eyes to his lips, then back again. “It is.”

Leo met his steady green gaze, much closer than he was used to. This was normally where Leo would hesitate. There would be a moment, a flicker of interest, and Leo would freeze. There were usually so many things racing through his mind and he would overthink everything and then the moment would be over.

He didn’t give himself the chance to do that this time.

Leo stepped forward to stand toe-to-toe with Logan, his thumb gently tracing those lips that had plagued his thoughts so many times before until he couldn’t help but swoop down to finally kiss him decisively, leaving no room for uncertainty or backtracking. He was done hesitating – he was going after what he wanted for once. And oh, how he wanted this. Judging from the way Logan pulled him that much closer so that Leo could feel his chest pressed against his and how he tilted his chin up to kiss him back, he wanted this, too. A hand reached up to tangle in Leo’s hair and tugged slightly to pull Leo down more, closer to Logan’s level. He smiled into the kiss, racing thoughts being replaced by the taste of caramel, the feel of slightly-chapped lips against his, and the little unknown intricacies that made up kissing Logan – the way his breath hitched and the consequential sigh after the fact, the soft sounds he made as if he simply couldn’t get enough. Kissing Logan wasn’t anything like he thought it would be; it wasn’t showstopping, or earth-shattering, or mind-melting. But it was warm. And everyone knew Leo was always cold.

“Leo,” Logan mumbled an undiscernible amount of time later, barely pausing between one kiss and the next. Not Nutty, or Nut, or any other variation of his nickname. Leo. There was something so personal, so intimate about the way Logan said his name, the way it rumbled in his chest and got muffled against Leo’s lips. Leo shivered.

“Hmm?” He asked, refusing to move away until Logan did. Even then he chased after him for a split second… until he saw the look on Logan’s face. Brow furrowed, face closed off. Leo was used to seeing that expression when Logan was avoiding his feelings for Finn, but he’d never really seen that look directed at him.

“We shouldn’t.” Logan’s voice was quiet and full of regret, and that only made Leo’s heart drop more.

Leo looked down at his own hands, still fisted in Logan’s jacket. He couldn’t bring himself to move them, ingraining the closeness and warmth to his memory. “I get that the timing is bad – like really bad, oh my god. But I’m not imagining this, right? I know I’m new to the whole espionage thing, but there’s no way I’m making this up.”

Please tell me I’m not making this up. He thought desperately.

“No,” Logan said forcefully, reaching up to tilt Leo’s chin up to meet his eyes again. “No, you aren’t making this up. But we are in the middle of a mission. And then there’s-” He stopped short with a grimace. And if Leo thought it was complicated already, he was worried that this was where it would get even more intricate.

“Finn.” Leo finished for him, watching his eyes widen. He took several steps backward, forcing Leo to finally relinquish his hold.

“You know?” His voice wavered, but his eyes were intense. He reached for Leo again, grabbing his cold hand and gripping it tightly, as if trying to instill his conviction through the touch alone. “That doesn’t mean I care about you any less, Leo, you’ve got to understand that. It’s just-”

“I know.” Leo took a deep breath, squeezed Logan’s hand, then pressed on. “Me too. I like Finn, too.” He laughed a little at the grin that blossomed across the brunet’s face. “I thought I was being so obvious about it.”

Logan stepped closer again, eyes alight with unbridled excitement. “Are you kidding? I literally wanted to kiss him so badly that I used it as a means to get us arrested.”

Leo groaned, but was smiling all the same. There was something so cathartic about finally being able to talk about this after keeping it all bottled up for months. And Logan felt the same way? Leo was giddy with the realization. “You have no idea what that did to me.”

Logan grinned, looking lighter than he had in a long time. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who cuddled with him all night last night.”

“Unintentional,” Leo said with a shrug as he gently combed through brown hair, watching fondly as Logan eagerly leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. He was like an over-grown cat, and Leo couldn’t get enough of it. “But definitely a highlight of this trip.”

The grin dimmed a little. “What are we going to tell him?”

Leo paused, mulling it over. “The truth? The timing is still bad, but we’re spies.” Leo looked down at their joined hands and traced a thin, silvery scar on the back of Logan’s hand. He wondered what it was from. “Will there ever be a good time?”

Logan hummed, but stayed silent. It was like he knew Leo had more to say, but was still thinking of the right way to phrase it. Leo felt himself fall just a little bit more. It wasn’t love – not yet – but damn if it wasn’t close.

“I’m tired of waiting, aren’t you?” Leo finally asked, meeting green eyes again. “Just sitting there with all those feelings and not being able to act on them. If he feels the same way, that’s great! And if he doesn’t, then yeah it’ll hurt and it might be a little awkward, but at least we can move on. I don’t think that’ll be the case, though.” Leo ruffled that thick brown hair. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Leo, he’s a conman. One of his main jobs is to act.”

“Sweetheart, there is no universe where the way he kissed you could be an act.”

Logan smiled faintly, seeming a little lost in thought. Leo was pretty sure he knew what he was thinking about. He tugged on Logan’s hand, finally getting them to start walking through the alley again; he’d kind of forgotten they were still standing there. His vision had narrowed down to the spy walking by his side and nothing else.

“He likes you too, you know.” Logan said after a few minutes, swinging their joined hands as they walked. It was unfairly adorable. “I think we should at least wait until after we get the drive from Lestrange to talk to him, though. We all need to be on our A game for that.”

Leo nodded. “Yeah, that’s going to be a nightmare.” Even the thought of dealing with the Snake made Leo’s skin prickle.

“We’ll be fine.” Logan reassured as they reached the hotel, getting blasted by welcome warmth as they entered the lobby. “We’ve come this far.”

And I have a feeling the worst is yet to come. Leo thought, but kept his mouth shut and followed Logan to the stairwell, choosing instead to say, “I’m surprised you’re willingly taking the stairs-” he stopped short with a laugh as Logan forcibly backed him up against the wall, staring into the depths of those green eyes.

“Not as many people take the stairs.” Logan mumbled, tilting his head to place a kiss to the hollow of Leo’s throat, then another, then another. Leo arched his neck to give the brunet better access and smiled up at the flight of stairs ascending over their heads. He felt like he was floating right along beside them.

“Including you.”

“I can’t believe you’re teasing me when all I want to do is make out with you.” Logan grumbled in between kisses, punctuating his complaint with a nip at Leo’s pulse point. The blond hummed happily, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“I’m willing to negotiate.” He said, running a hand through Logan’s hair again and getting the same response as before. Leo mulled it over for a few seconds then tugged experimentally, causing Logan to groan and lean back to meet Leo’s eyes, pupils blown wide.

“Persuade me.” Leo stated simply, a wicked glint to his sweet smile.

And Logan, after a long string of inarticulate French, did.

***

Later that night, after calling Loops and relaying the details of their meet-up with June and their plans for Lestrange, Finn heard the gentle clicking noise of a lock being picked from beside him and smiled at the nature documentary playing on the cheap hotel TV. It was a cute habit. The clicking used to drive Finn up a wall, but now he found it strangely reassuring. It meant Leo was nearby. It meant calm, it meant steadiness.

He turned the volume on the TV down and turned to face the blond, watching the light bounce off of blond hair and a sweet profile. Leo seemed to notice eyes on him and looked up from the small lock in his hands, arching an eyebrow expectantly.

“Can you teach me?” Finn asked, motioning to the lock.

Leo stopped fiddling his fingers. “To pick a lock?”

“Why not? Seems like a good trick to learn.” Finn held his hand out and wiggled his fingers at Leo, who shrugged and handed the lock over.

“He’s going to be so bad at this.” Logan predicted, not taking his eyes off the TV. Finn scoffed and punched him in the arm.

“Rude.” Finn groused as he spun the dial on the lock and looked back to Leo. “Teach away, Nutter Butter!”

Leo scooted over on the bed to get closer to Finn, thighs brushing and a warm weight against Finn’s shoulder. He looked over at Leo as he spoke, getting hit with a sudden flare of wistfulness. He wanted this for the rest of his life.

“Ok. So this lock has a possible of 64,000 different combinations-”

“Holy shit.” Logan whistled lowly with a quick look over at them. His posture was completely relaxed - unusual for the fighter. His normally sharp, attentive gaze was sleepy and calm. It absolutely melted Finn's heart. He wanted this for the rest of his life, too.

“It’s not too bad once you’ve got the basics down.” Leo reassured, tapping on the curved handle at the top. “This right here is the shackle. You’re going to apply pressure to it while you turn the dial counterclockwise – no,” Leo laughed and put a hand over Finn’s as he turned the dial, slowing down the redhead’s movement. “Slowly. You’ve got to be able to feel the sticking points.”

“Sticking points?” Finn asked, hyperaware of the feeling of gentle fingers against his. He was far more interested in watching he blond as he demonstrated instead of actually paying attention to what he was doing.

“There’s going to be points where the dial jams and you won’t be able to freely rotate it anymore.” Leo explained, watching as Finn moved the dial at a much slower pace. “Sometimes the sticking point is between two numbers and then you have a sticking range, which complicates things.”

“It gets more complicated?”

Leo just laughed, stretching his long legs out on the bed and relaxing back against the headboard. “Just wait until we get to the math.”

“There’s math?”

Logan watched the two of them with a smile, picturing day after day of moments just like this – enough to make up an entire lifetime. He knew their lives would always be complicated; the three of them had found themselves intertwined in an elaborate tangle of threads that bound them all together, and Logan wasn’t sure they could separate themselves even if they tried. That was fine with him. It was messy and difficult and convoluted, but so many of the good things in life always were.

Logan was never one to back down from a challenge, anyways.

[thatfanficstuff]

Feelings - Tony DiNozzo

Pairing: Tony DiNozzo x reader

Warnings: canon typical violence and situations, language.

A/N: 3500 words. Way longer than I’d intended. First time writing Tony x reader. Hope you like it. 

***

Gibbs had his rules for a reason. You didn’t ask about those reasons. It was hard enough just remembering the damn rules without worrying about the back story that went with them. There was a rule for just about anything: dealing with attorneys, putting family first, not annoying Gibbs. There was even that one rule about not dating your co-workers that you were dying to know the origins of but were in no way brave enough to ask.

Unfortunately, there was no rule about falling in love with your co-worker. Sometimes you wondered if there was, if you could have avoided all this. I mean, you were so careful about following the rules to the point that Tony often made fun of you for having them memorized. If you were honest with yourself, you knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Hadn’t you tried everything you could think of to keep your heart from falling for his hazel eyes and lazy smile?  

He was a player. But that didn’t stop your gaze from following him as he headed to the elevator and his latest date.

You reminded yourself he never took anything seriously even while you laughed at his latest prank.

He talked about movies way too much. It was obsessive really. That didn’t stop you from watching every film he mentioned, a bowl of popcorn in your lap and an empty space beside you on the couch.

Maybe that was the problem. Perhaps you were just lonely. Maybe—

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you realized you’d been staring at the same piece of paper on your desk for the last half hour. Shit.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah?”

His brow was furrowed and his gaze was filled with concern. “You okay?”

Your cheeks heated and you turned back to the papers on your desk. “I’m fine.”

Tony huffed. “If there is one thing I know, it’s that a woman is never fine when she says she is. So, what’s going on?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing, Tony.”

The next thing you knew, he was right beside you, perched on the corner of your desk. If Gibbs and McGee were here you wouldn’t have to deal with this. McGee would tell him to leave you alone and Gibbs would smack the back of his head. They both respected your privacy. Your need to not share every aspect of your life. Why couldn’t you have fallen for one of them?

 As you leaned back in your chair, you ran your gaze over him until you met his eyes. “Can I help you with something, DiNozzo?”

“It’s never nothing, Y/N. You’re always zoning out lately. Something’s bothering you.”

“I just didn’t sleep well. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has off days, today’s one of mine.”

He hummed as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Normally I’d give you that, but this has been going on for weeks. So, what is it? Money? Are you sick? Have a fight with Abby?”

You just leaned back in your chair and kept your eyes on the man sitting on your desk like he owned it. He continued to list topics, pausing between each one to gage your reaction.

Suddenly, his brows shot up as he frowned. “Is it a guy?” The tone of his voice said that it couldn’t possibly be the right answer. It would have been so easy to fool him, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from moving away from him, afraid he’d see everything you were too afraid to say.

“It is!” There was an undertone to his voice you couldn’t quite place.

You ignored it, and him, to turn your attention back to the paperwork on your desk.

“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There’s nothing to say, Tony. Now can I please get back to work? I really don’t want Gibbs chewing my ass again.” You were far enough behind on your paperwork that Vance had said something to your boss. That had earned you a head slap and an admonishment about you knowing better.

Tony grabbed the pen from your hand and dropped it on the desk. “Come on. You know Gibbs doesn’t care about paperwork. He’s just passing along the ass chewing he got from Vance. Quit avoiding the question. Is this why you’ve been skipping out on our dinners?”

You sighed. Tony liked to eat and you liked to cook so you’d started inviting him over once a week. Lately you’d feigned other plans to keep from having to spend an evening concealing your feelings. “Actually, yes.”

“Nice. You start getting laid and leave me to starve.” He moved back over to his desk with a scowl on his face. “I thought I meant more to you than that.”

His affronted tone had you rolling your eyes. “I didn’t say anything about getting laid. And you’re hardly starving.”

“Tell that to my scale. I’ve lost five pounds since you quit feeding me.”

His disgruntled tone bothered you. “Are you okay, Tony?”

He shook his head but said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just miss your cooking is all.”

His phone rang before you could respond. After a quick conversation, he hopped to his feet. “Johnson hasn’t showed up at home. Gibbs wants us to try his mom’s place while they sit on the apartment.”

***

Despite your suspect’s mother claiming she hadn’t seen her son in months, it was your experience that people tended to run home when scared. You hoped that’s precisely what this suspect had done as you were more than ready to close the case.

Tony parked along the curb at the end of the driveway so no one could pull out while you two were otherwise occupied. He took the front while you went around the back. He gave you a moment to let you get into position before knocking on the door. As you listened to the hum of him talking to someone, you kept your weapon trained on the back door. A moment later, the unmistakable feeling of a gun pressed against the back of your head. Shit. You should have done more than your cursory examination of the backyard.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Hands up.”

You did as instructed, and he yanked your weapon from your hand. “Phillip Johnson, I presume.”

“That’s me. Give me the keys to the car.”

“What car?”

He slammed the side of the gun into the back of your head. Not hard enough to knock you out but hard enough to give you an instant headache. “Don’t play stupid.”

“I don’t have the keys. I didn’t drive.” You forced the words through teeth gritted in pain.

He stepped up behind you to pat down your pockets. “Fuck,” he growled when he discovered you were telling the truth.

“Look, just go. It’s not like I can shoot you as you run away, you have my weapon.” You wanted to diffuse the situation, to try to control the fallout from your fuck up. He was angry and armed and was the type to start shooting people if he felt trapped.

“So you can scream for help before I get two blocks away? I don’t think so.” He pushed you toward the back door. “In you go.”

You gave a brief thought to yelling for Tony but kind of liked your brains where they were. Johnson had already killed once, what was to keep him from killing again? He shoved you through the house causing you to stumble more than once. You could hear Tony still arguing with the mother at the front door. Johnson stepped up behind you and pinned you against his chest with a thick arm, the gun now shoved against your temple. He walked you into view of the front door though you couldn’t see anything as his mother blocked the opening.

“Look, Mrs. Johnson, while I appreciate your position, the fact remains that we have a warrant for your son’s arrest. You’re gonna need to let me in to make sure he’s not here or we’ll come in anyway and won’t be nearly as nice about it. I’ve already called backup. They’re on the way.” Tony was using the placating tone he always used when trying to convince a suspect or a witness that he was harmless and reasonable.

“You come in and your friend dies,” Johnson yelled.

His mother was pulled from the doorway and onto the front porch behind Tony who had his gun drawn and aimed in almost the same moment. His eyes were glued to the weapon pressed to your head. His face lost what little color it had. “Let her go, Phil. You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.” He moved forward and slammed the door in Tony’s face. He shoved you and put some space between the two of you. “Close the blinds and the curtains,” he ordered. When you dared to look at him, he waved the gun as if to bring your attention to it. Like you could forget for a minute the situation you were in. Your eyes flicked down, spotting your sidearm tucked into his waist band.

Your brain worked through scenarios even as you did as he’d ordered. As you closed the last blind you caught a glimpse of Gibbs stepping from his vehicle. Your team would get you out of here. They had to.

***

It had been almost two hours. Once you’d secured the house to his satisfaction, Johnson had used your own cuffs to restrain you. Fortunately, he was an idiot and left your hands in front instead of placing them behind your back so you’d have less mobility. He was using your phone to talk to Gibbs periodically. He’d put the calls on speaker and you could tell Gibbs’ patience was wearing thin. You’d tried to talk to him during the first call and Phillips backhanded you with the gun still in hand. The whole right side of your face felt tight and sore. Asshole.

“What the hell is taking so long?” he muttered as he peered through a gap in the blinds. He glanced over at you. “Call him.”

You reached forward and pressed the button to call Gibbs and put it on speaker. “Gibbs,” he answered.

“Where’s my money and my car?”

“I told you it was going to take some time. If you want to forget about the money, you can leave right now. I’ll even give you a police escort out of town. Just let your hostage go.” You could hear the anger simmering in his voice.

“You have thirty minutes or I start sending her out in pieces.” He slammed his finger down on the disconnect.

“Well, that was monumentally fucking stupid.” So was pissing off the man with the gun but you were running out of time. You’d been waiting for an opening, but thus far hadn’t found one. It was time to make one of your own.

He shoved the barrel of the gun against the temple on the sore side of your face and you winced. Fucker. “What did you say?”

“You just confirmed that you have no problem hurting me. And you put a timeline on it. They’ll try to take you out now.”

Uncertainty flashed on his face and he glanced toward the windows.

“You were smart covering the windows, but they’ll be getting ready to send in a tactical team now. They’re probably already out front.”

After a second of indecision, he moved away from you to peek through the gap between the blind and the window. His gaze kept darting back to you. “I don’t see anything.”

You shook your head. “They’ll be prepping further down the street so it’s harder for you to see.” You gestured to one of the other windows. One that would put him close to you with his back turned while he tried to get a view of his impending doom.

As he moved to the new viewpoint, you leaned forward, shifting your legs so you could get to your feet quickly. The moment his attention was elsewhere, you launched yourself at him. He grunted as he slammed against the wall and window.

“Bitch!” He tried to turn, to get the gun up, but you didn’t give him even a single moment to recover. You couldn’t or that would be the end of you. Instead, you shifted your weight to come at him from a different angle. You drove him toward the ground, grabbing your gun from his waistband as you went.

The impact knocked the weapon from his hand. You pushed yourself to your feet and aimed your weapon. Johnson didn’t even notice as he scrambled for his own gun. You fired a round into the floor by his head and he froze instantly. “Give me a reason.”

He rolled over, hands raised in front of him. Your phone began to ring but you kept your attention, and your gun, on Johnson. “Couch,” you instructed.

The call had barely had time to go to voicemail before it began ringing again. If you didn’t answer it soon, things would get a hell of a lot more chaotic. Still, you waited until Johnson sat on the couch to move over and grab the other gun from the floor. You laid it on the table beside you.

Your phone started another cycle of ringing and you heard Gibbs on the bullhorn. “Answer the phone or we’re coming in.”

You answered the call on speaker phone, needing to keep your hands free for your gun. “You can come in, but I’m going to be real pissed if someone shoots me.”

A sigh of relief was the immediate answer.

“Johnson has been disarmed. I’m the one that fired the shot. See you in a second.”

It wasn’t even a breath later that the front door opened and people swarmed around you. You kept your weapon trained on Johnson even as he was pulled to his feet and placed in cuffs. A hand settled on top of yours and you followed the length of the arm to find Gibbs standing next to you. “We’ve got him. You can stand down, Agent.” His jaw tightened as he took in the injury to your face. His eyes found yours and softened. “Give me the gun, Y/N.”

You nodded and loosened your grip so he could take the weapon from you.

“DiNozzo, get her out of here,” he ordered.

You turned to your other side to find Tony. The smile he gave you was strained, but it was good to see it just the same. “Hey.”

His smile widened, became a little more genuine. “Hey.” He unlocked the cuffs and took them off before tossing them to Gibbs. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to steer you out the door and you relaxed against him, content to simply be in his presence after the last couple of hours.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he said as he led you to a waiting ambulance. “Let’s not do this ever again, okay?”

“But I was so looking forward to making it a weekly thing.” You sat so your feet dangled out of the back of the ambulance while the medic looked you over. Tony stood silently, arms crossed over his chest as he watched them work. You grit your teeth and flinched as they pressed against bruised skin checking for broken bones. You cursed outright when they found the bump on the back of your head.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have this checked at the hospital to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

You waved him away. “I’m good. Promise.”

“Y/N/N, maybe you should—” Tony interjected but you cut him off.

“I just want to go home, Tony.”

He looked uncertain.

“Please.”

He thought a moment more before saying, “Yeah. Okay.”

Your shoulders sagged in relief and you took the hand he offered you. Once you were on your feet, he stayed close but released your hand. Instead, he settled his at the base of your spine to steer you through the scene until you stood in front of your boss.

“They clear you?” Gibbs asked, looking between you and Tony.

“Sure did, boss,” Tony answered for you, sounding entirely too upbeat. You resisted the urge to smack him in the stomach.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes but nodded just the same. “All right. Take her home. I’ll see you both in the morning for debriefing.”

***

Tony was unusually quiet on the way home, which was fine since you didn’t really feel like talking. After the third time you caught him looking at you, you turned your attention out the window. It wasn’t until he parked the car that you focused enough to realize he hadn’t taken you to your home at all. You followed the familiar path to his apartment.

“Have a seat,” he instructed once you’d made it inside. He disappeared into the kitchen while you made yourself comfortable on his couch. When he emerged, he held a beer in one hand and a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel in the other. He placed the beer on the table beside you and handed you the makeshift icepack. You held it to the side of your face, flinching at the contact.

“Thanks.”

He nodded absently and began to pace the floor. Your gaze followed him for a couple of minutes before you interrupted. “What is it, Tony?”

He turned to you, his eyes wide. His gaze darted down then back up and he licked his lips. He pulled something from his pocket and set it on the table. It took you a moment to realize it was your phone. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and pink dusted his cheeks. “I should have given that to you earlier. You probably want to call this boyfriend I knew nothing about. But if you could wait a minute, there’s something I need to say first.”

“Only if you sit. The pacing’s driving me nuts.”

He grinned at that and sat on his coffee table. He was close enough your knees touched. You resisted the urge to press closer. When several minutes passed without him saying anything you spoke up. “Tony—”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m getting to it. I just usually don’t do this sort of thing.”

“Talk?”

“Cute, but no.” He licked his lips again. “Look, I lied to you.”

You frowned as you tried to follow what he was trying to tell you.

He sighed. “When we were talking about this guy and all those canceled dinners and you asked if I was okay. I said yes when that was the furthest thing from the truth. In my defense, I thought I would be okay. I mean, if he makes you happy, that’s what’s important, right?”

He pushed to his feet before you could respond and started pacing the floor again. “But then you had to go and get yourself held hostage. When I saw you with that gun to your head, I knew I’d never be okay again if something happened to you. If I lost you before I ever had a chance to tell you.” He stopped pacing and turned to face you. “I’m crazy about you, Y/N/N. I have been pretty much from the moment Gibbs introduced you to the team.”

You blinked as you tried to process the fact that Tony DiNozzo had just admitted to having feelings. For you.

“Right, well, that’s done. I’ll just go see what I have for dinner.” He fled to the kitchen before you could stop him.

Rather than calling him back, you followed him. You stepped into the doorway to find him leaning on the counter with his back to you and his head bowed. Your heart ached at that thought that he’d apparently been pining after you as much as you had him. “It was you.”

He looked over his shoulder. His brow furrowed as he met your gaze. “What?”

“The guy that I cancelled all the dinners for? That was you.”

He turned to give you his full attention. “That doesn’t make any sense, Y/N/N.”

You shrugged. “Well, see, I would have dinner with you. We’d watch a movie together. Maybe have a few drinks and I could fool my heart into thinking that maybe, just maybe we could have more. Then a few nights later I’d watch you hurry to the elevator so you wouldn’t be late for a date.” You closed the distance between you but didn’t touch him. Not yet. “My heart couldn’t take me playing pretend anymore. It hurt too much. So, I started making excuses.”

“And I was doing the same thing, only I was making dates, hoping someone could make me forget about you.”

“How’d that work out for you, DiNozzo?”

He rested a hand along the uninjured side of your face and ran his thumb across your cheek. “Not great. How about you, Y/L/N? Did you manage to get over me?”

“Not even close.”

His smile was radiant.

“Hey, DiNozzo.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Kiss me already.”

[awkward-gay-bro]

New Position

Officer James Hanson knew he had killed this interview. The skinny suit who had conducted it had been eying him up the whole time. Hanson couldn’t blame him of course, anyone would be lucky to get to look at his studly muscles, but the guy should have tried harder to hide it. They were police officers, after all. They were supposed to be men. That didn’t stop Hanson from flexing his arms across his strapping chest, whatever got him the position that was rightfully his. 

Hanson considered himself one of the most up and coming officers, and he knew he deserved to be in a position of real power. He was tired of just being another uni, he knew that he should be something better. And low and behold a scout for a swat division he’d never even heard of approached him. The man was almost as rippling with muscle as he was and had told him that his personality was exactly what they looked for in a special position within their elite team. Hanson wanted to know more, but the other man said that this was on a need to know basis, and that if he got the position they could go into more details.  

After signing and NDA and a contract that he could either turn around now, or he was signed on for the next five years, Hanson was sent a message of where to go for his special training. Hanson didn’t even read what he was signing, he was too excited. The little bit of information he had on this told him he’d even be getting his own office at the team’s secret headquarters. Hanson made his way to the address he’d been provided and couldn’t believe it. The skyscraper didn’t look anything like a precinct he’d seen before, and as he walked into the lobby he couldn’t help thinking he was in a movie. There was no one in the lobby, just a fancy fountain, artwork, topiaries, but nothing that would indicate this had to do with law enforcement. There was a singular elevator in the lobby, whose doors opened, and the suit who’d interviewed him walked out. 

“Hello Officer Hanson, follow me, and we will begin your processing,” the suit said. 

“Am I going to get to learn more about what we are doing here?” Hanson asked as he followed the other man into the elevator.

“We specialize in the things most people don’t even know exist. Crimes using technology most people would believe are simply science fiction fantasies,” the suit nonchalantly said as if he were talking about something as mundane about stamp collecting. “But we can talk about that later, first step is getting you down to the lab for transitioning.”

“Wait does that mean we have high tech weapons here? Like the guns in Men In Black?” Hanson said excitedly. He was ecstatic. He always knew that he was meant for something bigger than all those other schmucks from the academy. Finally, those thoughts were being confirmed.

As the elevator hit the floor labeled lab, the suit said, “That movie got more right than we expected, but you aren’t going to need to worry about that. This is Dr. Rosalind, she is our head geneticist. She will be taking care of you through the bulk of your transition to your new role.”

A beautiful woman, with flaming auburn hair walked out and extended her hand, “Hello, you must be Jamie. Let’s get you in my chair here, most of my subjects prefer to be out during the transition to avoid any pain, so I’m just going to do a small dose of anesthesia.”

“It’s James, and do I really need anesthesia just for you to do a physical? I can assure you, I’m in peak physical condition.” Hanson knew if this suit was the only kinda guy she’d been working with, he was definitely going to have a chance to get with this lady scientist. He was strapping and rugged, and guys like him always got the brainy hottie in the movies.  

“This is going to be a lot more than just a physical, James. But I have a packed schedule today so let’s get this started.” As she said this she pulled down a mask to his face, flipped a switch, and he was out. 

When Hanson woke back up, he was no longer in the lab. He was sitting in a dark bedroom that looked like something out of a brothel. There was no door to the room, just large deep red curtains. As he started to look around the massive room he saw that all of his belongings he’d set aside for relocation were there. If this was going to be his new room, he was definitely going to have to manly up the place. As he lifted one of the boxes he realized whatever the doctor had done really must have drained his energy, the box felt a lot heavier than it had when he packed it. Opening the box he pulled out his high school football jersey, his prized possession of the good old days. When he held it in front of himself, though, it fell down to his knees. It looked like it would be a dress on him. 

“What the hell? They stretched out my jersey?” Looking through the other boxes he found that this was the only article of clothing they’d actually brought over. He couldn’t find any of his clothes. From the corner of his eye he spotted a closet, and assumed they must have already set his clothing up there. But none of his normal clothes were there. It was all way too faggy clothes, mixed with random skimpy costumes, and it was all several sizes too small. The closest thing to being in any way something he would wear was a leather swat uniform. He stripped out of the hospital gown he was for some reason wearing, only now realizing someone had to have removed his clothes for him. Hoping it was the scientist lady and not the suit, he quickly pulled on the leather pants. He hadn’t noticed how smooth his body had become, his hard earned muscles faded, his body hair gone, even his tattoos he’d spent so much time and money on were completely absent. The leather pants went up shockingly easy considering how small and tight they looked, until he got up to his butt. “I knew these wouldn’t fit,” he thought to himself. One massive tug, and he finally got them above his butt, which then began jiggling from the movement. “What the hell?” He reached down and grabbed his butt. Gone was his perky tight rear end, replaced with massive globes he couldn’t even fit in his hands. He hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact his hands had grown smaller and daintier, but these massive cheeks would have been more than a handful even with his formerly rugged paws. 

He finished putting the costume on, buttoning a vest of his now lithe, smooth chest, when the suit walked in through the curtains. “Ah, Doctor Rosalind always does magnificent work. I forgot to introduce myself earlier, you can call me Cassidy. I see you found your new wardrobe?”

“What the hell did she do to my ass?” Hanson said as he turned to face his new coworker. When he finally saw him face to face he was horrified to see that he was now looking up at the man he’d once considered scrawny. He wasn’t just shorter than the other man, he was smaller. “How did you get so big?”

“I’m the exact same as I’ve always been, Jamie,” Cassidy chuckled. Looking up at him, Hanson hadn’t noticed before that he definitely had muscles. The dress shirt he was wearing was tight across his chest, and showed off the lean muscles of his frame. Hanson also noticed that his eyes were deep, and that his smile was as cute as any of his ex-girlfriends’. He immediately shook those thoughts out of his head. 

“How is this going to help me be a better cop? How am I gonna shut down someone with high tech weapons if I can’t even reach the top shelf?” Hanson yelled. 

“That’s not your job, Jamie. It’s mine,” Cassidy began to explain. “With our need for secrecy, our agents here are not able to leave and go back to their normal lives. And we aren’t able to start new lives with others. Our identities, like yours, have been erased from normal society. But we still have needs. That’s where a new program came in, a way for us to satisfy those needs, for friendship, for love, for lust. You were found by one of our recruiters with an ironic sense of humour, and you have gone through our rigorous treatment so that you can participate in that very program.”

“I’m supposed to be a cop! I’m supposed to be something great!” Hanson yelled. 

“And now you are. You have been perfected to my specifications. You are definitely something great,” Cassidy said as he walked closer. Leaning down to Hanson, he planted a kiss, gently holding the back off his head. Hanson fell into the kiss, his body betraying him. The simple touch of the other man’s lips sent butterflies to his stomach and blood to his groin. As Cassidy caressed his face with one hand, he reached down with the other and grabbed one of Hanson’s massive mounds firmly. Falling farther into the kiss, Hanson arched his back pushing his jiggling cheek deeper into Cassidy’s hand. 

Breaking from the kiss, Cassidy said, “You know, most of the agents here assign some new personalities to the partners. I liked how arrogant you were, I made sure they didn’t change a thing about that sexy brain of yours. Well, other than helping you appreciate mine as well.” Hanson should have been angry at what the other man had done, but all he could think of was how thoughtful it was that Cassidy made sure he would still be himself. Even if it was in a new package. “Now this will be your new office, it’s connected by these curtains to mine. We can go more into the rest of the facility, but what do you say we break in this bed?” With that Cassidy took his hand from Jamie’s head, and grabbed hold of his other cheek. Grabbing both cheeks firmly, he lifted the smaller man up, into his arms and began kissing him again. Jamie began grinding into the larger man as they kissed, his massive rear end twerking along in Cassidy’s hands. Jamie thought to himself that he’d have plenty of time to be angry later, right now he just wanted to show off that he was the best of the best no matter the position. And Cassidy had a lot of positions he wanted to try out. 

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: April Fools (You Can’t Kid A Kiddo)

Intro: It’s April Fools’ Day and Tony is out to play. Avengers, beware!

Warnings: Bad language, very mild smut…no one gets naked but just in case- NSFW, 18+

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

A/N: Happy April Fool’s Day! To celebrate I’m taking us WAY back into the SSB timeline, this takes place at some point just before the AOU timeline.

Word Count: 6k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 Steve’s hands were hot on Katie’s hips, gently gripping her bare skin just above her underwear, the top she was wearing riding up slightly. Her bare thighs were straddling his as he gripped her neck, pulling her down for a searing kiss, grinding up against her, the TV programme they had been watching was long forgotten.

“You know,” Steve pulled back slightly to look at her, one of his hands tangling in the hem of the plaid button down she’d stolen from him to sleep in, as usual, “Captain America doesn’t approve of theft.” “Captain America is an ass hole.” Katie grinned back. “Stevie is my favourite.”

He gave a chuckle and leaned back against the sofa cushions, simply taking in her appearance for a second. “How did I get so lucky?” He asked, reaching up to tuck her long hair behind her ears. She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“What’s brought this on?” Her hands slid up his chest, coming to a stop on his shoulders, fingers gently playing with the collar of his polo shirt.

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Just seeing you now and then before with that reporter…reminds me about how fierce…” he pressed a kiss to her lips, “and loyal…”another kiss, “and downright sexy you are when you’re angry.”

“He was a dick.” She mumbled, against his lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she pulled back to look at him, his fingers gently tracing the outside of her thighs. “I mean, it’s not like we haven’t already launched the publicity campaign for the book already.”

“Well its big news.”

“Of course it is, its Harlan Thrombey.” Katie shrugged. “His books are huge!”

“Did you ever get to the bottom of why he’s reached out to SIP to run the next one when he has his own publishing company?” Steve asked and she popped a shoulder in response. “Oh something to do with his Son annoying him and needing to be taught not to take things for granted. I can ask him that in October when I meet him to go over the final edit and discuss the covers and stuff…” She wrinkled her nose as her brow creased into a frown. “But that’s by the by. That ass-hat reporter should have been at the press launch like everyone else, not trying to accost us when we went out for lunch. And what the fuck has whether we’ve set a wedding date got to do with it anyway? Nosey bastard.”

Steve chuckled at her rant and looked at her, his eyes shining. “We haven’t set one though.”

“Yeah well, we’ve kinda had a bit going on.” She pondered. “I mean, there was my extended vacation in Canada…”

“Don’t.” Steve shook his head, swallowing. “It’s not funny. I hate it when you do that.”

Katie chuckled. “I’m sorry, baby.” She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, he hated it when she made light of her HYDRA ordeal. She pulled away, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Maybe once all this business with the sceptre is sorted we can think about it.” Steve sighed. “It’s certainly taking a little longer than we hoped.”

“Well it’s only the end of March. I’ve always wanted a summer wedding so it’s not…” Katie trailed off and Steve saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open as she looked at him. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” he frowned.

“It’s the 31st March.” She looked at him, swallowing and Steve felt the colour draining from his face.

“Crap.” The reason for their horror was simple. Because, forget Christmas or Thanksgiving, April Fools’ Day was Tony Stark’s favourite time of year, as his long suffering sister could testify. When she was a kid, Tony had done the usual stuff. Flour in her talc, washing up liquid in her shampoo, paper shapes of bugs (never spiders though, he wasn’t that cruel) in lampshades so when she turned the lights on she’d think she had a huge cockroach in there, that type of stuff. But, as she matured, so did the pranks. At one time whilst she had been at the tower for a meeting, JARVIS sent her an alert that someone had slashed her tyres in the carpark. She had sprinted outside to find photos of Slash from ‘Guns and Roses’ struck to the side of her wheels. Another year, Tony had hacked her StarkPhone and Laptop and changed the language to Chinese. Of course she couldn’t read fucking Chinese to change it back. When she found an agent in SHIELD who did and he reversed it for her, within thirty seconds it had flicked over to Russian. And when Natasha fixed that it became Swedish and so on and so on… Steve had also been the butt of a few pranks since he had known Tony. In 2013 he had fallen for the old toothpaste Oreo trick when a box had arrived for him allegedly from the cookie company themselves after Steve had been papped eating a packet. That had nearly made him sick. And then last year there had been the non-stop phone calls asking for Franklin. Every time it was someone different and Steve was getting more and more frustrated as to who exactly Franklin was and why people thought he was on his number. Then, as he and Katie had been on the sofa making out, he’d gotten one last call…

“Leave it…” she urged, her hands on his face turning him back to look at her. He kissed her again, hands sliding up the side of her torso, grinding his crotch down onto hers making her purr with delight as her hands strayed to the buckle of his belt, soft fingers gently skimming his abs as she made to undo it, his tongue tangling ferociously with hers as he gave a soft moan of pleasure… But his phone was going again. Katie sighed as he dropped his head to her chest, mumbling a curse. “Unless that’s a Code Red, you can tell whoever it is to fuck off.” She gave a frustrated growl, her head flopping back against the cushion as Steve reached over and answered it, still led over her. “Rogers.” He spoke sharply. It was another unknown number, but this time it wasn’t an unknown voice that spoke. “Hi this is Frankin!” Tony greeted him and Steve let out a growl of frustration as he realised he had been had. “Have there been,” there was a pause as the inventor laughed, “I’m sorry, have there been any calls for me?” “Tony, I swear to god!” He spat through gritted teeth as the inventor cackled and hung up. “Your brother is a dick.” He looked down at Katie, shaking his head. “Well yeah, I know that.” Katie looked up at her boyfriend. “What did he just do?” “You know those calls I’ve been getting all day, the ones asking for Franklin?” He looked at her and she nodded. “It was him.”

Katie paused and then let out a laugh. “To be fair, that’s a pretty good one.” “I hate him.” Steve mumbled, dropping his head back to her chest.

She chuckled again, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Hey, Stevie, wanna get him back?” “How?” Steve queried, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her. “Call him,” she grinned, leaning up and nipping at his jaw line softly as he closed his eyes, “leave the phone on the table,” she bucked up under him, wriggling her hips, his trousers feeling uncomfortably tight again, “and let him listen to us make out”

Steve hadn’t done that, because, well frankly the thought of anyone listening to them wasn’t a great turn on in his books, let alone her brother, so Tony had gone another year of getting away with it.

Simply put, Tony was king of the pranks, and this year he had the entire team at the tower to torment. 

“We should warn the others.” Steve looked at Katie, and with a sigh she nodded. She untangled herself from him and straightened the legs on her denim shorts.

“JARVIS?” She asked.

“Yes Miss Stark.” “Where are the rest of the team?”

“Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the Common Room. Thor is in his quarters as is Mr Stark and Dr Banner is in the Lab.”

“I’ll cover Nat, Clint and Banner.” Steve nodded. “You wanna go see Thor?”

Katie nodded. “Sure, I’ll pop down and see him now. Then we should probably go for a look around, see if we can spot if he’s set anything up.” Katie climbed off his lap and Steve straightened his pants slightly before giving her a quick kiss and heading towards the stairs whereas Katie made her towards the hidden elevator, selecting the right floor. Thor and Clint shared one of the highest floors in the tower, both preferring to be higher up, closer to the roof but it was still below theirs. Exiting the elevator, she turned left and knocked on the door.

“Little Stark?” Thor answered and stepped back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” “It’s not strictly pleasure I’m afraid Thor…” Katie sighed “I’m here with a warning.” “A warning?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you got five minutes? It’s gonna take some explanation.”

***** Tony was giggling to himself as he put the final touches to the last of his pranks, before closing the door to the Lab and heading back to his floor. It was ridiculously early in the morning, but needs must. There was no way he could have set this all up the previous evening because Kiddo and Spangles would most likely have done some kind of recon mission before they went to bed.

So, as the saying goes, the bird catches the worm and all that. Fuck Killian and his second mouse bullshit.

“What have you been doing?” Pepper mumbled to him as he walked back into their dark bedroom.

“Nothing.” He answered, with a grin, leaning down to give her a peck.

“Bullshit.” Pepper mumbled against his lips. “It’s April Fools’ Day…” “Is it?” he said, innocently and she rolled her eyes. “JARVIS?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Hey buddy, I need you to set up an alert for me for today. If anyone goes into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my equipment, I wanna know about it.”

“Of course Sir.”

Tony grinned as he headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Avengers, assemble!” 

Prank 1.

Steve was the first victim. He and Katie were making their way, cautiously, down to the large meeting room where they were all due to congregate to look over the plans of an abandoned British prison they suspected of being a HYDRA base. They made sure to check round each corner before they walked round it, checking up high, low, everywhere.

But there was no avoiding this prank.

Steve pressed his palm to the Biometric Pad on the meeting room door and the pair of them gave a loud yell and a jump as their ears were assaulted by a sudden chorus.

“Who’s strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right, night and day?”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Steve groaned as he pulled open the door, the song echoing through the PA system.

“Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Clint and Natasha were stood, poised at the table, both wearing identical looks of astonishment on their faces. They turned to Katie and Steve as they walked into the room, the song still playing.

“We can’t ignore there’s a threat and a war we must win! Who’ll hang a noose on the goose-stepping goons from Berlin?”

“I’m assuming this means Cap is the first of us to fall victim to Stark?” Clint asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Who will indeed lead the call for America? Who’ll rise or fall, give his all, for America?”

“Please tell me it isn’t going to go through a full rendition.” Steve sighed, dropping into a chair.

“Who’s here to prove that we can? The Star Spangled Man with a plan!”

Silence. The four of them waited with bated breath, but thankfully it had stopped.

“Just the first two verses.” Katie flopped down next to him. “Suppose we should be grateful.” “Kiddo, you’re as much of a sneak as Tony.” Clint looked at her, as Thor walked into the room. “How come you’ve never managed to get him back?”

“He’s too smart.” She sighed. “I’ve tried and tried before. It doesn’t help that he has JARVIS either, watch this…JARVIS?”

“Yes Miss Stark?”

“Has my brother got an alert going for you to warn him if we try and prank him?” “I couldn’t possibly comment, Miss Stark, on whether or not your brother has an alert set up to warn him if any of you attempt to tamper with any of his equipment.”

Normally, Katie would chuckle at the AI’s tone but she was too frustrated with her brother and the seeming lack of loopholes in any of his instructions she could exploit. She leaned back in her chair and gave a huff “See?”

“I could just shock him with some lightning?” Thor suggested

“Think that’s a little harsh.” Steve shook his head. 

“See if you still think that by the end of the day when every time you open a door that song starts.” Natasha looked at him.

“What, you think…” Steve looked at her and then gave a groan. “Too much to hope that it would just be the one door isn’t it?”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Of course it isn’t just one door, Spangles!” _______

Prank 2.

Bruce was sincerely hoping that whatever inevitable prank Tony was going to pull on him that the Billionaire had been sensible enough not to shock him so far that the Hulk erupted. Bruce had a pretty good hold on him, so he wasn’t too worried but still, you never know.

The mild mannered scientist made it to his lab in one piece, opened the door and then stopped dead.

In front of him on the floor, for about two metres square were cups of water. And they were positioned that close together it left no space for him to step over in any direction without them spilling all over the floor.

Which meant he couldn’t get into the room.

Had it been anyone else, they would probably have simply kicked the cups over, but not Bruce. He was always paranoid about the liquid seeping through the floors and down onto the machinery which looked after the Iron Legion. 

So if he was going to get into the lab, he was going to have to move them one cup at a time. 

“Damned you, Tony!” He gave a loud, exasperated sigh. “JARVIS? I need a bucket…”

_______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Good luck finding one, Brucey.”

_______

Prank 3.

“I don’t think there’s much else to go on.” Steve sighed as the rest of the team finished looking over the plans “We need to get out there and do a recon really.”

“We prepping for another mission then, Cap?” Clint looked at him. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

“I don’t think we have an alternative.” 

“Okay, well, if we get everything ready we can go at first light tomorrow.” Natasha suggested “I’ll get Hill onto the British Authorities, let them know we’re planning on coming.” With that an alert sounded on Katie’s phone and she looked down at it. “I gotta go take a conference call but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Steve nodded to her as she stood up and left the room. She made it to her office, safely and swung the door open, pausing just to make sure nothing fell from the door frame. She darted through, took a look round and everything seemed to be in order.

Suspecting Tony of most likely sabotaging her computer or screen, Katie sat down on her chair and a loud horn sounded causing her to scream. Involuntarily, her entire body jumped, and her chair toppled backwards. She went with it, arms and legs flailing and hit the floor with a crash.

After taking a moment to sort herself out she stood up, and looked at the bottom of her chair. There was an air horn strapped to the main leg which mean as soon as she had sat down, it would push the handle causing it to sound.

“I know you’re watching this you fucker!” She yelled, spinning round to the CCTV camera and flicking it off. “I hate you!”

_____ Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Feeling horny, Kiddo?”

_______

Prank 4.

Given that there was nothing else to do, Natasha decided to head to the gym, as she did every weekday morning, to practice Pilates. It was a routine she tried not to break as it helped her keep supple and relax. Katie sometimes joined her, and surprisingly so did Steve. He said it helped keep his mind clear. 

She knew that the routine made her an easy target for one of Stark’s pranks, but she was damned if he was going to catch her out. She was one of the world’s best spies, no way was he going to get her with some stupid, childish trick.

She entered the room and glanced up and around, checking the corners, you name it. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out at her, and even if they did, she’d floor them- more fool you, Stark- she leaned up against the bench and stretched her legs out.

“Who’s strong and brave here to save the American Way? Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right, night and day?”

Natasha spun to see Steve shaking his head as he made his way into the room in his gym gear

“You joining me or hitting the bag?” She asked as they both tried to ignore the song as it continued ringing from the speakers.

“Joining you if that’s okay?” he said. “I went for a run this morning so…” “Sure.” She nodded, and as the song finally stopped they made their way to the store cupboards, picking out their mats. Natasha picked her favoured one, and lay it down on the floor.

As soon as she stepped on it there was a loud popping noise, like a gun going off, and she jumped backwards, dropping to the floor by instinct. 

“Nat,” Steve soothed, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s okay, no one’s shooting.” Angrily, Natasha stood up and stalked over to the mat. With a furious movement, she reached down and pulled it up off the floor and set about examining it.

“Bastard!” She exclaimed, slipping her hand into a small, almost invisible hole on the underside. She pulled out a tiny little firecracker, the type that kids used to throw on the floor in front of someone to make a loud bag. “He’s filled my mat with these!” 

______

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office cackled. “Even Super Spies get fooled, Romanoff.”

_______

Prank 5 and 6.

Later that day the team met in the common room for lunch. Steve already had a headache from that damned song following him every time he opened a door, Katie was sporting quite a sore elbow after falling harshly on the floor, Bruce was pissed as it had taken him a good hour to get rid of the cups of water, and Natasha was seething at the fact she’d been caught out too.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with it for your entire life.” Clint said to Katie as he opened the fridge, pulling out a can of his favoured Dr Pepper. He grabbed a glass and then went to the dispenser for some ice, the way he always liked his soda, but nothing happened when he pressed the button.

“What the...” Clint frowned as he opened the freezer compartment and reached into the dispenser tray. After rummaging a little he stopped, and pulled something out before he gave a huge bellow of laughter. He turned, holding up the item and Steve glanced over to see it was a Tupperware tub that was full of ice, in the middle of which was frozen a Captain America action figure. There was a pause before the rest of the team fell about laughing and Steve groaned, shaking his head.

“Why has he picked on me two times?” he looked at Katie who gave a shrug.

“You know what he’s like, annoying you is his favourite pass-time.”

“You wanna go back in the freezer, Cap, or in the sink to deforst?” Clint asked and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I took a long enough nap in the cold, thanks.”

Clint tossed the offending item into the sink and then reached for some ice cubes before he walked over to where the rest of the team were sat on the sofas with various lunch items on the coffee table. He poured the soda into the glass and set it on the table, still chuckling.

“You can stop looking so smug.” Katie turned to him. “He’ll get you eventually, you too Thor, there’s no way he hasn’t set one up for you both.” “I am mighty, Little Stark.” Thor grinned, nursing a plate of his favoured chocolate and sugar covered strawberries he had snaffled from a tray in the fridge. “It will take more than…” “SHIT!” Clint exclaimed, and with a loud yell they all jumped back as the soda in his glass was exploding over the top with such veracity it was showering them all in the sticky drink. As Steve and Natasha headed to grab some paper towels, Katie marched over to the freezer and yanked out the ice dispenser tray.

“He’s put fucking Mentos in the ice cubes!” She groaned with a shake of her head. “Jesus Christ!” “You gotta hand it to him.” Bruce sighed, wiping his glasses off on his shirt. “This is maximum effort.”

“Oh, I’d like to hand it to him,” Katie mumbled, “with my fist closed.” Thor gave a chuckle and popped a strawberry in his mouth, before he gave a grimace, gagged and spat it back out onto the plate.

“That’s-” he stood up, nearly pushing the coffee table over in his attempt to get to the sink. 

Katie watched him as he grabbed a glass of water and filled it from the tap. 

“What…” Natasha looked at Bruce who was examining a piece of the fruit, holding it in front of his nose.

“Salt.” Thor mumbled as he rinsed his mouth out. “It isn’t sugar, its salt. He put salt on my Chocolate Sugar Fruit!”

_____

Tony, watching the events unfold on the display in the safety of his office, cackled. “Ice Ice baby… no need to be so salty.”

_______

*******

“We have to get him back.” Natasha grumbled as they all sat in Katie and Steve’s apartment, having retreated to the relative safety as their living quarters were the one place there was no CCTV, and Katie had the authority to banish JARVIS from earwigging. (Tony had learnt that lesson one day after hearing something he really didn’t want to hear…)

“Believe me I’ve tried.” Katie sighed “And you heard J before, anyone tampers with his equipment and…” She stopped dead. That was it. That was the loophole. With a smirk she looked round the assembled faces. Steve arched an eyebrow at her, he knew that look very well.

“What you thinking?” He asked and she grinned at them all.

“I have an idea…”

They listened attentively, Clint and Natasha sharing a grin as she outlined her plan whilst Thor slapped his thigh with glee. Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at Banner who was also smiling ear to ear.

“That might just work.” Bruce nodded. “It’s a pretty good loophole, and we have the stuff in the lab so…” “I’ll need a distraction.” Katie mused, “something that’s gonna draw Tony out of his office for long enough for me to do it but…” “That’s easy.” Thor nodded. “I’m sure I can cause a good deal of noise in the Training Facility, break a few things with my hammer.”

“Fry something.” Steve looked around. “If you do that then JARVIS won’t be able to fix it remotely, Tony’s gonna have to get his hands dirty.”

“You all know what you’re doing?” Katie grinned as everyone nodded. “Okay, Avengers, let’s do this.“

Operation Payback.

Tony heard the bang seconds before JARVIS spoke

“Mr Stark.”

“What the hell was that?”

“There’s been an incident in the Training Suite.”

“Course there has.” Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at how stupid they thought he was. He wasn’t falling for a distraction like that. “Where is everyone?” “Miss Stark, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton are in the shooting range.” JARVIS informed him. Doctor Banner was in his lab, although it appears he is now making his way down to the Training Facility to find out what’s going on. Captain Rogers is already there as is Thor.”

“What’s the incident?”

“It appears Thor has struck the speakers and the access pad with a bolt of lightning.” JARVIS replied. “I’m currently assessing the damage but as a result he is locked in. And he isn’t happy.” Okay, so maybe this was serious….

Tony gave an exasperated groan and pushed his chair from his desk. “Suppose I best go see if I can help. Remember what I said, anyone comes in here and tampers with my equipment…” “Of course, Sir.”

When Tony arrived, Thor was kicking the door to the training facility, waving his hammer irately.

“Thor!” Steve was stood by the glass, attempting to calm him down. “Don’t buddy, we’ll get you out of there.” “I can get myself out.” Thor blazed, raising his hand and Tony blanched at the fact Thor was threatening to send his hammer straight through the wall. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the walls and glass to get damaged but they’d only just had it replaced after Steve and Thor had been practicing using Steve’s shield and Mjolnir to cause an outwards blasting shockwave. It had taken down two walls and completely decimated a bank of computers in the lab on the other side of the floor.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, and Steve spun to him shooting him a glare.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on!” Thor roared. “That infernal song!”

His hammer crackled ominously again and Tony looked back to Steve.

“He was fed up of hearing Star Spangled Man With A Plan ringing out every goddamned time I opened a door.” Steve folded his arms. “So he lost his temper. And I can’t say I blame him.” “We’ve talked about this.” Tony looked at Thor. “You need to use your words, buddy!” “Words, I’ll give you more than words, Stark!” Thor roared. “Now get me out of here!”

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking at the pad on the door. “Damage report?”

“The Circuit is completely fried, Sir.” JARVIS replied. “I cannot access or override, you will need to do it manually.”

“Great.” Tony mumbled. “Let me just go get my tools from the lab.” Mumbling to himself, he set off down the corridor and once he was gone, Thor grinned and tossed his hammer in the air as he gave Steve and Banner the thumbs up before he caught it expertly again in his right hand.

“Good job!” Steve nodded with a smile as he pulled his phone out and dialled Katie quickly. “You’re up.” 

****

It took Tony roughly thirty minutes to replace the wires and unlock the door. Thor stormed out, pushed him harshly in the chest before he left down the corridor.

“Guess they don’t have April Fools’ Day on Asgard.” Tony mumbled, rubbing at the front of his shirt.

“To be honest, Tony, it’s pretty annoying.” Bruce sighed. “Can you turn it off now? I mean its almost two in the afternoon.” “Yeah I suppose.” Tony sighed, before he grinned. “Tt was a pretty good one though, right.” “Hilarious.” Steve deadpanned, his hands falling to his belt buckle. Tony flashed him a grin and a shrug before he gathered up his tools and made his way back down the corridor.

“JAR?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Turn off ‘Prank Spangles’ will you, before anyone else breaks more of my tower.”

“Right away, Sir.” “And I’m assuming from the lack of contact no one’s been in my office or anywhere else tampering with my equipment?” “That’s correct, Sir.” “Today has been a good day.” Tony grinned to himself.

Once he was back in his office he sat down at his chair, and went through his emails quickly. He absentmindedly scratched at his beard, which felt a little dry to be honest. But he hadn’t oiled it since that morning. Reaching into his drawer he grabbed the small bottle, tipped a good amount onto his hand and spread it across the expertly groomed whiskers before he continued with his work. It took him a few hours but he cleared his inbox and then decided it was time to face the music. Heading down to the common room he found the rest of the team lounging in front of the TV. They were watching Kitchen Nightmares. 

“S’up Kids?” he asked and none of them looked at him. “Okay, alright, I know, sorry if I pranked you but if I buy takeout will that make you forgive me?”

No answer.

“Oh come on!” Tony crossed the room, sinking into a spare arm chair. “I’ll get Thai.”

The team exchanged glances before Bruce gave a sigh. He was always the one to cave first, the mild mannered Scientist found it hard to stay outwardly angry, which was ironic when anyone thought about it.

“To be fair, that trick with the water was pretty clever.”

“Yeah, and I suppose the salt strawberries were a little amusing.” Thor looked at Katie.

She shrugged, her feet resting in Steve’s lap as he was gently running his fingers up and down her calf.

“Lighten up, Kiddo.”  Tony sighed, flopping onto an arm chair.  

“Payback’s a bitch, and so are you.”  She responded simply, still not looking at him.

“You’ve never managed to get me back yet.” Tony snorted.

At that point he noticed Natasha and Clint exchanging smirks. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clint shook his head.

“I like your beard” Thor suddenly grinned. “I have always admired how you keep it so neat and groomed. Maybe I should trim mine the same way.” Tony frowned. “Oh is this the part where you pin me down and shave it?” He rolled his eyes. “You know I can call my suit to me in like five seconds flat.” “We know.” Steve replied, looking at him and Tony’s frown deepened. The way the Captain’s blue eyes were shining with mirth made him uncomfortable.

He looked round as six pairs of eyes were all completely focussed on him now before Katie cracked up laughing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I can’t hold…” her laughter grew more and more as she threw her head back against the arm of the sofa “You look ridiculous!” Tony frowned and without a word stood up from the chair and made his way to the bar to glance in the mirrored surface between the shelves.

Oh. Holy. Jesus.

His goatee. His beautiful goatee…was blonde.

He spun round and the rest of the guys in the room cracked up laughing. Steve had his head thrown back, right hand clutching at his chest as Katie wiped tears from her face whilst Natasha doubled over on her seat. Besides her Clint slapped his thigh, his chuckles loud.

“What…how…” Tony spluttered, looking again at his reflection, before he glared back at the group.

“Slipped a little peroxide in your beard oil.” Katie managed to stutter between laughs, Thor’s loud rumbles continued, punctuated every now and then by a snort from Banner.

“JARVIS!” Tony roared “I told you to tell me if anyone went into my office, or the garage, or anywhere in the tower messing with my stuff…” “I take zero responsibility for this, Sir” The AI responded. “And I believe your instruction was to alert you if anyone entered your office or the garage or anywhere in the tower and messed with your equipment. Technically Miss Stark didn’t touch your equipment, only your Male grooming product. I believe they exploited a loophole.” That made the group laugh even harder as Tony went bright red, spluttering obscenities at JARVIS. Eventually he calmed down and sighed, before he glanced at his sister.

“You know I’m almost proud…” he said, shaking his head. “Almost…”

Katie gave him a wink in response. “You know what they say…you can’t kid a kidder, or in this case Kiddo…”

Tony gave a groan which turned into a resigned chuckle. He could always dye it back. “Good job, I’m impressed.” He mused, before he reached for some ice from the bucket on the bar and sighed. “Empty.”

“Yeah, don’t bother with the stuff in the dispenser.” Clint scoffed and Tony grinned.

“Wasn’t gonna, Legolass.” He grabbed the metal ice bucket and stepped from behind the bar.

“Oh, that reminds me, nice touch with the ice block.” Steve rolled his eyes and Tony looked at him, frowning.

“What?”

“The scale model Capsicle in the ice dispenser-“

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Old Man.” Tony shook his head. “Are you going senile?”

Steve took a deep breath and gave an exasperated sigh. “You don’t need to pretend anymore Tony.”

“Hey, I’m not.” Tony held his spare hand up. “That, as amusing as it was to watch, was not me. Although I’m kinda pissed I didn’t think of it.”

“It wasn’t you?” Steve frowned.

“Nope. I am not Spartacus.”

“Then who…” Steve started to ask but trailed off as he felt Katie’s legs shift a little in his lap. He turned to see her exchange a glance with Thor, biting her lip and then he realised exactly who was responsible. “Oh you are…”

“It was his idea!” Katie pointed at Thor as Steve glared at her.

“Yes, it was Captain.” Thor grinned and Steve turned his attention to the god. “When I found out what this whole Fools Day was about, I decided that I wanted to pull a prank of my own. Little Stark came up with that one. And, I must say, it was highly entertaining.”

Tony chuckled and clapped Steve on his shoulder from behind the couch as he headed off to find ice. “This has definitely been a good day.”

Steve continued to look at Katie, eyes narrowed as she stared back, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t look at me like that, Soldier.”

“Oh, and how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re utterly and thoroughly disappointed in me.”

“I am utterly and thoroughly disappointed in you.” His eyes followed her as she shifted from where she’d been sprawled across the sofa, so she was sat upright. She sidled up closer to him, and leaned over.

“We’ll call it even for the plastic spider I found in the shower tray.” She whispered into his ear and Steve stiffened a little, before he swallowed and turned to look at her.

“Sorry?” He offered and she snorted, shaking her head. “To be honest, Doll, I didn’t think you’d noticed given your lack of reaction to it this morning.”

“Yeah, well, I grew up with Tony. You gotta try much harder than that to catch me out.”

“Message received, understood and duly noted for next year.” Steve muttered, his eyes flashing cheekily before he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll absolutely learn how to Kid a Kiddo.”

“Don’t count on it, Soldier.” She smirked as he pulled back, and he chuckled, wrapping his arm round her and pulling her close, pressing a kiss to her head.

All in all, Tony was right. It hadn’t been a bad day.

[bipanichotch]

bury me in memory [1/?]

chapter one: the ones who don’t slow down at all

Summary: After getting caught in a rainstorm, Victoria Bishop spends the night at the Hotchners’ and has a bonding moment with Jack.

Pairings: Hotch x Haley, eventual Hotch x F!OC

Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings: Non-specific mentions of past abuse.

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 link

next chapter

“Working late again?”

Victoria Bishop was only teasing, but Aaron Hotchner didn’t seem to hear her. In fact, when she peered a little closer at his desk, she realized that he hadn’t heard her—because he was asleep. About thirty seconds from drooling on whatever very important form he’d been in the middle of filling out, by her reckoning, so she knocked sharply on the doorframe and tried again, a little louder:

“Hotch.”

He jolted upright, right hand falling to his gun, and Bishop threw her palms in the air until he gained his bearings. “Sorry,” he said, blinking hard. “What is it?”

“You were asleep at your desk—don’t worry,” she said with a little laugh as he scrambled for his phone to look at the time, “It’s not quite nine.” Still far too late to be in the office, but she couldn’t really talk, since she’d also been finishing paperwork. “You look like death warmed over.”

He rubbed at his face with one broad hand. “It’s been a long few days.”

She winced sympathetically. They’d been in Arizona for three days on a kidnapping case, and hadn’t gotten back until the late afternoon; Hotch hadn’t left his desk since then except to get more coffee or use the bathroom. “Yeah. You should get some sleep. Real sleep. In a bed.”

“I’ll just pack up and then I’ll drive home, I promise.”

Bishop snorted. “You think I’m letting you drive when you’re tired enough to pass out at your desk? No way.”

“Bishop, you really don’t—”

She held up a hand. “I’m not hearing it, Hotchner. I’ll drop you off at home, and I’ll pick you up come morning. It’s really no trouble.”

He stared at her silently, tired-eyed, but finally nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I don’t think I could live with the guilt if you ran yourself off the road because you fell asleep at the wheel.” She patted her hand against the doorframe, then gestured behind her. “I’m going to grab my jacket and pack up. I’ll meet you by the elevator in five?”

Hotch nodded. “Sure.”

“And I mean five. If you’re not there, I’m coming back up here and dragging you out of this building by force.”

His lip twitched. “I’ll be there.”

In fact, he was out of his office before she was done re-ordering her desk. Tossing her favorite pen back into its proper place in her I will probably spill this coffee mug (a gift from Morgan that she refused to actually drink coffee out of, in case she did spill it), she shouldered her bag and followed Hotch out of the bullpen.

He hit the call button for the elevator. “You’re sure you’re alright with picking me up again in the morning?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure. Besides,” she grinned, “You come in so early that I’ll have time to stop and get coffee before I have to clock in.”

The elevator dinged its arrival, and they filed in for a companionably quiet ride down to the parking garage. They didn’t speak until they got into her government-issued dark blue sedan, when Hotch muttered his address just clearly enough for her to type it into the GPS. Some late night radio show—she never paid attention to what channel was playing on her commute—burbled below the peppy artificial voice brightly telling her to Turn left onto Investigation Parkway!

“We did good this week,” she said as she checked for oncoming traffic. There wasn’t any, since they were probably the last two FBI agents in the building, but it would be just her luck to drive Hotch home one time and get them both killed in an accident. “Those parents wouldn’t have gotten their little boy back without us.”

“We might not have if it weren’t for your hostage negotiation.” In 1,000 feet, turn right. “I know I didn’t tell you that you did a good job—”

“You didn’t need to,” she interjected. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

The rest of the drive was pretty quiet, though Bishop didn’t mind; Hotch wasn’t especially chatty at the best of times, and if she didn’t catch the reflection of street lights in his eyes every time that she turned to check the passenger window for oncoming cars, she might have thought he was asleep. Not long after leaving the office, it started to sprinkle, which quickly turned into rain, which had, by the time the GPS announced Your destination is on the right about twenty minutes later, become a torrential downpour.

“This one, here?” she asked. Normally she would just check the house number, but it was hard to make out through the rain, even with the wipers on the highest setting.

“This is it,” Hotch said. “Thank you, again.”

“I already told you it was no problem—here, I have an umbrella in the backseat, I’ll walk you up to the door.” She twisted around to fish it out of the footwell, adding: “There’s nothing worse than being tired and damp. I’ll save you the misery.”

Umbrella firmly in hand, she stepped out of the car and jogged over to the passenger’s side so Hotch could get out without getting immediately rained on—though, she was quickly realizing, the stiff wind meant that the umbrella wasn’t actually doing its job all that well. Her slacks were already soaked. She also hadn’t considered the height difference between her and Hotch; when he stood, she had to extend her elbow more in order to keep him from hitting his head on the umbrella’s metal frame.

At least the Hotchner home had a covered porch, Bishop mused as she shook out her umbrella and closed it while Hotch unlocked the door.

“Aaron?” Haley’s voice was audible from deeper in the house. The two women had only met a few times, mostly at bar nights, but Victoria liked her; she liked seeing her and Hotch together, and she liked knowing that they were good parents to their son. The world needed more good parents. And Hotch needed more reasons to smile—Haley gave him plenty.

“I’m home,” he confirmed.

“I brought him back safe and mostly dry,” Bishop added.

Haley stepped into view, presumably from the kitchen based on the dish and dish rag in her hands. “Victoria? You drove him home?”

She snorted. “He was half-passed out at his desk, and I didn’t want him to end up in the Potomac. I’ll pick him up in the morning, and he can take his work car back home tomorrow. It was no problem, really.”

“Pick him up in the morning?” Haley was all incredulity as she looked pointedly past them, at the storm raging outside. “You’re not seriously driving home in this, especially not when we have a perfectly good guest room.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—"

“Haley’s right,” Hotch said. “I don’t think the rain’s going to clear up anytime soon. We can throw the stuff from your go bag in the wash so you have something to wear tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure I’m not imposing, then I’ll gladly stay. I’ll just grab—” She was ready to say my bag, but Hotch had already strode off the porch and back towards her car. Bishop sighed, then stepped inside when Haley gestured her in. “He’s undoing all the hard umbrella work I did to stop him from getting wet on the walk up here!”

Haley laughed. “He’s a stubborn man. Not that you can talk, from what I’ve heard.”

“Ouch! All my many virtues and flaws, and all he gossips about is how stubborn I am?” Bishop deposited her umbrella in a modern-looking umbrella rack, then toed off her heels.

“He talks about how stubborn you all are. It’s the only thing that doesn’t violate the no-case-details rule.”

She wondered if the no-case-details rule was Haley’s or Hotch’s, but didn’t ask; it was a fair enough request either way. “I’m assuming Jack is asleep? How old is he now, anyway?”

“He’s seven months. And he is, but he’ll wake up no matter what, so I don’t really worry about it.”

“Oh, so he’s at that stage?”

“Who’s at what stage?” Hotch had finally returned from the car, soaked through from the whipping rain with Bishop’s bag on his shoulder.

“Your son,” Bishop said, “Is at the stage where he wakes up constantly no matter what you do. Speaking of, Haley, if you need a break for the night, you can put his baby monitor in my room.” She grinned. “I was a nanny during undergrad for extra cash. Parents called me the baby whisperer.”

Haley shook her head. “I’ll keep that in mind if we ever need a sitter and my sister isn’t available, but I’ve got him tonight.”

“I should do it,” Hotch said.

Haley rolled her eyes. “Aaron, you look ready to pass out. I’ll put Victoria’s clothes in the wash. Go to bed.”

He smiled slightly, a little dopey and absolutely overflowing with affection, and gave her a quick kiss. “Yes, ma’am.”

Haley swatted at his arm. “Go!”

“I’m going, I’m going! Goodnight, Bishop.”

“G’night, Hotch.”

With another quick kiss to his wife, he ambled off.

“Here, I’ll show you where the guest bedroom and bathroom are,” Haley said. She led Bishop up the stairs and down a tastefully decorated hallway, opening a door on the left to reveal a clean, decently-sized bathroom with a shower-tub combo. “Towels are in the cupboard above the toilet, and there’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash—although I guess you might have all that in your bag.”

“I do. Thank you, though.”

“Thank you for getting him home at a semi-decent time. Even if he is exhausted.” She flicked off the light, and opened the next door into a light blue room with a pillow-covered queen-sized bed. “I’ll go put your clothes in the wash. They’ll be dry when you wake up.”

“Haley,” Bishop protested, “I can do my own laundry, I really don’t mind.”

“You look almost as ready to keel over as Aaron. When was the last time you slept?”

She tried to think. They’d caught the unsub at something like 3 AM, caught a few hours of sleep, finished up paperwork at the local station, and then flown home—but she’d been so wound up with adrenaline that she hadn’t slept until they were on the jet, and even then, only fitfully. “Well…”

Haley arched her brows. “Any answer to that question that starts with well isn’t a good enough answer. Take a shower and go to bed, Victoria.”

Pitching her voice low in a purposefully terrible impression of Hotch: “Yes, ma’am.”

“Ugh, you’re both terrible!”

Bishop laughed, and stepped back towards the bathroom. “It’s good to see you, Haley.”

Haley smiled. “You too. I’ll leave a set of pajamas outside the bathroom door. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

--

“Bishop—eggs over easy, right?” Hotch asked over his shoulder from where he stood at the stove.

“Correct, boss-man! Two pieces of twelve-grain?”

“Yes. And one slice of the weight watchers for Haley.”

They’d tried to keep her from helping with breakfast, too, but as soon as Haley had gone to get Jack out of bed, Bishop had taken it upon herself to lend some sort of hand. If that meant overseeing the toast, so be it. She hadn’t shared a kitchen with anybody since her academy days, but the ease with which the Hotchners moved around each other made learning the flow of breakfast-time easy.

“I should have known you’d manage to help with something, guest or not,” Haley half-scolded as she re-entered the kitchen, setting Jack down on the tiles.

“You’re right, you should’ve,” Bishop retorted with a smile. “What do you want on your toast?”

“Jam, thank you,” she answered, pulling mugs down from a cupboard. “There’s peanut butter up to your right, if you want it.”

“Thanks.”

As she buttered her & Hotch’s toast and spread jam onto Haley’s, Bishop felt a tiny hand grab hold of her slacks. Glancing down, she saw that Jack had made his way over to her and was now holding on with all his strength. As she watched, he tugged, trying to get his feet under him—

“Haley, Hotch. Has Jack stood up yet?”

“No,” Haley said, “why—oh my God. Aaron, get the camera.”

Hotch turned, saw what was happening, and grabbed a digital camera from the top of the fridge. Just as he turned it on, Jack tugged himself to his feet, firmly gripping Bishop’s leg. He looked up at her, let out a delighted shriek, and Hotch snapped a photo. The flash from the camera startled Jack, who released his death grip on Bishop’s calf—for a moment, he balanced precariously on his own, but she knew that wouldn’t last.

So did Hotch and Haley; there was a mad dash from all three of them to catch Jack before he fell down, and before she even realized she’d reacted, Bishop found herself with the young boy giggling in her arms.

“Yeah, I bet that was fun for you, wasn’t it?” She muttered to him. Jack, oblivious to his near-fall, babbled at her and patted at her face with his considerable baby strength. She grunted as his tiny fist connected with her nose. “Christ, you take after your daddy, don’t you?”

“Don’t be so sure,” Hotch said. “Haley’s got a mean right hook.”

“Don’t get in a fight with Haley, noted,” she joked, moving to pass Jack back to his mom. When she tried, though, Jack shrieked again and grabbed ahold of her blouse.

“He likes you,” Haley laughed. The little boy giggled at the sound, then giggled louder as Bishop planted a big kiss on his forehead.

“I’m glad.” Lowering her voice to an exaggerated whisper, she said: “Jack. Don’t tell your mom or your dad, but you’re my favorite Hotchner.”

He babbled back at her, and she nodded seriously, as if he’d made a very good point. “Agreed. Shake on it?” She shifted him around to settle him on her hip and offered him her hand, which he promptly shoved into his mouth. Not unexpected; still kind of gross. “That works, too.”

“Jack, don’t teeth on Victoria,” Haley said, extricating him from her arms despite his wordless protests. “She has to eat breakfast and take Daddy to work.”

A string of unintelligible babble.

“I know,” Bishop agreed, “it’s just not fair. I guess I’ll just have to get stuck in a rainstorm again so we can hang out. Sound good?”

More babble. She’d always liked kids to an extent, but her own childhood was so awful that she’d sworn long ago to never raise a child, terrified she’d become her mother or worse, her father. Looking at Jack giggling away in his mother’s arms, though, she reconsidered. Maybe, if she found the right partner, parenthood would be nice.

“You’re welcome any time,” Haley said, handing Jack off to Hotch. Bishop’s heart twisted as the little boy gave his dad a messy kiss on the cheek. Scratch maybe; for the first time in her life, Victoria knew that she wanted a family someday.

The only trick would be finding someone like Haley who could stand her job.

next chapter

TAGLIST (LIKE THIS POST TO BE ADDED):

@hotchley

[softsebnbuckystan]

Soul ties - Part 5 (Bucky Barnes au)

“And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don't lose sight of what I want”

"Oh! I didn't expect you so soon after the wedding," Bruce Banner said as you  walked into his lab. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course, thanks for asking, though. I just ran into Steve, and he said you'd actually found something while I was gone?"

A spark lit in Banner's eyes as he went around all his papers and tablets, searching for the information he wanted to share with you. Working with someone who was as passionate about science as you were was delightful : there was never an unproductive moment. You two were always thinking, bouncing off each other's ideas and coming up with useful inventions. You'd once helped two S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists, Fitz and Simmons, design "icers". They were non-lethal guns who could knock out theoretically anyone.

"See, we were talking about neural termination restaurations the other day. We thought it was next to impossible, since neurons are gone forever. But I was thinking..."

And off you started... It would be hard to get you two to stop before dinner time. You were so caught up in your work, lab goggles over your eyes, that Bruce had to tap on your shoulder to show you someone was there. You shot your head up, ready to say you were busy, but your body froze as you saw Bucky. You  didn't expect to run into him so quickly.

"Hey! Need anything?" you asked as he leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets.

"No, I just... You guys are impressive."

Bucky looked all around the lab and his mouth didn't seem to be able to close.

"All this...is you two?"

You let out a small laugh. "Stark helped out a lot, we have to admit. He provides us with the tech, and we handle the other sciences, you know."

"What's your area?" he asked, his eyes coming back on you.

"Biochem and astrophysics."

"So like...planets and stuff too?"

"Yeah, basically."

At the other side of the room, Bruce was trying not to smile : he could only imagine how hard it was for you not to get carried away by details and explaining how amazing and compelling constellations, solar systems and galaxies were.

"I love that stuff," Bucky breathed out.

"Alright, since you're not alone, y/n, I'll go grab some lunch."

"Lunch already?"

Bruce nodded and left the room after making sure you'd be up to work again in the afternoon. You  most certainly hadn't seen time go by and a sudden soreness in your eyes made you aware of what time it was.

"I should probably take a break as well," you admitted. You fiddled with your fingers, a little awkward now that you weren't busy working, before a brilliant idea came to your mind. "Do you want to see something, like...really cool?"

"Obviously I do."

"Okay, follow me."

You instinctively grabbed Bucky's hand and jumped with surprise at the texture of it. You lowered your eyes to look at it and he immediately moved his arm away from you. It was...metal. Well, you didn't expect that, but who cared?

"I didn't know you had this," you said in a what wanted to be a casual tone.

"Yeah, long story." His elusive answer proved he wasn't ready to tell you about it.

"I'll hear it anytime," you said with a smile to reassure him before grabbing his hand again. The last thing you wanted him to think was that it scared you off. "Let's go now."

He didn't pull back this time, and you dragged him a few floors down, taking the stairs so you  didn't have to wait for the elevator. You were walking fast, impatient as the thought of showing Bucky your passion made you.  You ended up letting go of his hand to open a big door and hurried him in.

"What is this room, y/n?"

Ignoring the sound of your name in his mouth, you closed the door, plunging the room in pitch black.

"Don't move, I just have to grab the remote."

You easily found it, then carefully made your way back to him. Hearing his breath picking up, you laid a hand on his back.

"Breathe. I promise you'll love this."

With the press of a button,  billions of stars surrounded you, lightning Bucky's  face as he stared in amazement.

"I told you you'd like this," you whispered.

"This...wow." Bucky was speechless. He'd been staying here for a while and had never seen this room before, apparently.

You went to sit on one of the bean bag chairs you'd brought  yourself and Bucky decided to follow you, unable to take his eyes off the fake sky in front of him.

"Are those...real constellations?"

"Absolutely." This was your time : talking about this always made you happy. "See  the ones that are kinda forming a V? If you look closely, they form the Capricorn constellation. Right above it is Aquarius. And on the left, that's Cernus, the one that looks like a whale. And then...sorry. I talk too much."

"No, no. Keep going."

Bucky leaned back in his chair, still looking up. A huge smile split your face as  you kept on telling him about constellations, showing him well known ones as much as others, less famous. You had no idea how long it had been when you got out, and a glance at your phone told you it'd been over an hour.

"I'm sorry if that bored you,"  you told him while closing the door. "When I start talking about stars..."

"Not at all. I get that. I could have listened for five more hours."

You chuckled nervously and gulped, joining your hand in your back as you  walked along the hallway to the elevator. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've got to get back to work, but if you want to see the stars again some time, you know where to find me."

---

"I'm eating at Brad's  tonight. I think there's pizza left in the fridge."

You'd been looking at Darren's text for five minutes : what were you supposed to say  to that? At least he had the decency to warn you...thirty minutes before your usual dinner time.

"You okay there?"

You looked away from your phone screen and gave Steve a bitter smile. "Not really. Darren bailed. Again."

Steve shook his head. You could tell he was angry at him. It's not like they had ever been wonderful friends, but you'd hoped Darren would make efforts to get to know Steve and the rest of the gang. They'd done their part ; Darren just never seemed to deem it necessary.

"I'm sure Wanda will be available for a pizza and movie night. You can stay here as long as you-"

Your ringtone interrupted Steve's sentence : Darren was calling you.

"Hello?"

"It's me, honey. Just wanted to tell you I'm staying over at Brad's. We had a few beers so I don't want to take the risk to drive."

"Oh, huh... Yeah. That's safer."

Your friend rolled his eyes – a thing he rarely did as bitterly.

"I'm not home either anyway," you said, hoping it would get a reaction out of him.

"Really? Where are you?"

"At the compound." You heard Darren make a mocking noise.

"I don't even know why I asked. Of course that's where you are."

You let out an angry breath and decided to end the phone call.

"I don't know what time you'll get home tomorrow, but don't worry if I'm not there. I'll probably come back late in the afternoon. Bye."

"By-"

You hung up. You didn't want to hear his voice any longer.  Steve grabbed you by the shoulder to comfort you.

"I'll get a room ready for you."

"Thanks, Steve."

"This guy is such a dick."

And that was your sister's reaction as she walked in, learning what had happened from your mind.  She sure was less civil than Steve, but have someone be as upset as you helped you understand that you were right to be mad at Darren.

"I'm sorry,  I know you married the guy, but-"

"No, you're right," you interrupted her as she sat at your other side. "He is behaving like a dick."

Wanda laughed as she pulled you in for a warm hug. "Men are the worst. Don't feel like it's your fault."

"You know I'm here, and a man, right?" Steve joked.

You and Wanda shot him fake ferocious looks and he held up his hands as a sign of peace.

"Fine, fine, men are the worst," he said solemnly.

--- Thanks again for the support y'all gave to the 4 previous parts. I hope this one is good! :) Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list ^^

Tag list

@ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02

[zebrabaker]

Families Lost and Found

Here we go, a brand new story, ft Jasonette, with a side of badass Marinette.

Marinette had many fond memories of being young. Her Mama singing her ancient lullabies as she combed her jet black hair. Visiting with Aunt Talia twice a year, and meeting her Godson Damain Al Ghul. Celebrating Chinese New Year with her maternal family in China, and being slipped small weapons along with her hongbao, eating jian dui with her cousins in between lessons. Her Aunties teaching her how to use her beauty to beguile and bewilder. Her Uncles showing her how to hold a knife. Her Maa-Maa showing her how to sew hidden pockets into all her clothes, and Ah-Gung showing her the many pressure points on a man that could cripple someone in seconds. Her older female cousins taught her how to use her bu yao as a deadly weapon, all the soft spots on a person that would hurt the worst when stabbed with the sharpened hair ornaments. Her older male cousins lessons were in subterfuge and misdirection. By the time she was seven, Marinette was well aware that most girls her age weren’t taught these things. But hey, Marinette was the next head of the Parisian branch of the Triad. Her younger cousin Bridgette would be her second in command, as she was the daughter of Maa-Maa and Ah-Ghung’s second child, Marinette’s Uncle Lee Cheng. Marinette knew her second and third cousins were scattered across Europe, ruling their branches with a velvet covered iron fist, as they were all taught, by family law.

She had been on her way home from a ‘family gathering’, really just a meeting at the front Cousin Yo owned, a large rental hall that could be equipped for any even. In reality, it was a trimonthly gathering of all heads of the Triad’s French branch. They were all, aside from her and her mother, from different cities across the country. She was almost back to her penthouse when she saw it, a man leaning against the wall of her building and staring at the five star Italian restaurant across the street. The restaurant that just so happened to be her eighteenth birthday gift from Mama, and a front for a smuggling ring the Triad had started almost ten years ago. They didn’t smuggle drugs or guns, but refugees, people who needed a new place to call home for some reason or another. Could he be a cop? Or worse, from the Russians? They had been rearing their heads again, trying to push their experimental heroine blend onto Triad streets, and Sabine had been sure to stomp them into the dust.

Waving her hand nonchalantly, her guards paused, and Marinette advanced on the man. His eyes snapped to hers, and his gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. His hair was peeking out from under a rather beat up beanie, and most of it was black, aside from a few white strands hanging over his eyes. She could see that under his mismatched clothes, he was wrapped like a mummy in bandages.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“I... I’m from Talia. She said to find -” He manage to get out, before his eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a brick.

“Boys!” Marinette calls, and her guards, two men from the Italians, ‘gifted’ to her as goodwill gifts on her sixteenth birthday, Tony and Bobby, leapt into action, grabbing the man under the arm and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Marinette grabbed her key card from her phone wallet and swiped it at the keypad that opened the door to the lobby. The building was owned entirely by members of the Triad, filled with families of those in service to the organization. It was securely guarded 24/7, and the higher up in the building you were, the higher ranked you were. Marinette was in the penthouse, an entire floor to herself. Her guards and closest confidants had apartments on the floor just below her. Waving off the doorman, Marinette made her way straight for the elevator bay and pressed the call button for her personal elevator.

The ride was agonizingly slow, but after what felt like hours, the car arrived at her hallway. Digging her keys out of her purse, Marinette quickly unlocked the door and ushered her guards inside.

“Set him on the couch and go home, I need to check him for injuries.” Tony and Bobby shared a discomforted look, but nodded and obeyed her orders. Marinette quickly grabbed her first aid kit from the bathroom, a massive, clunky thing that could probably stock a small doctor’s office for days. When she came back, the man was still asleep on the couch, breathing slowly and deep. Now that she looked him over more carefully, his clothes were clearly stolen, as none of them seemed to fit quite the same. With a sigh, Marinette drew the medical scissors from the case and began to casually cut away his jacket. Underneath that was a hoodie, with presumably another layer underneath. This would take a while. Sighing, Marinette pulled away and threw aside the scraps of material. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but she would have to keep going to be sure. After the hoodie came a long sleeve shirt and a tank-top, and he was left coated in bandages from the waist up. He was swaddled like a damn mummy, oddly enough. He had mentioned Auntie Talia...could she have? No, Great-Uncle Ras would never allow some random outsider or underling to be bathed in the pits, he was far too possessive for that.

Right as she started cutting upwards from the hem of the man’s pant legs, he sat bolt right up, gasping. He saw her and scrambled backwards, while Mari just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Where am I?” He demanded, eyes darting around the living room.

“Relax, my name is Marinette, and you’re in Paris, in my penthouse. I found you outside, you collapsed. My guards and I brought you in. I started cutting away your clothes so that I could assess you for injuries. I believe you’ve had some experience with my Auntie Talia and her League, and she sent you to find me. She would have said to find ‘she who rises’. It’s the meaning of my name, Marinette. Now, please sit down. I’m not armed, and I don’t intend to harm you. Look, you can pat me down if you need to make sure I’m not armed at all.” The man gave her a wary look, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, perched on the very edge of the cushion. Good, Auntie Talia had instilled him with some preservation instincts.

“So, Auntie? I’m going to assume you’re related to Ras and Damain, then.”

“Not at all.” Marinette scoffed. “My family runs the Parisian Triad, and all future heads are trained by the League for a year and a day. Ras trained my mother at the same time as Talia was beginning to train. They consider themselves sisters, making Talia my Auntie. I am, however, Damian’s godmother. He’s a sweet boy, once you put aside the homicidal tendencies. Are you hungry? I can have the place across the street, the one you were staking out, run us some food. Anything specific you want? Their ravioli is to die for.”

“That would...that would be great. I’ll eat anything.” The man (who looked to be around her age, late twenties) seemed caught off guard by her kindness.

“So, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Marinette commented, texting James, the head chef of Nona Gina’s to bring over her usual plus a plate of ravioli.

“My name is Jason. So, you mentioned the Parisian Triad.”

“Yup. My Mama is the current head, I have a year and a half before I take over. Tradition states I become head on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Any chance you’re looking for a new body guard? I’m gonna need to find a job, and I can guarantee that I’m good.” Marinette paused, thinking for a moment. Both her guards were more than adequate, but Bobby had come to her last week, and asked to be transferred to a more sedate job, as his wife (Laura, a lovely woman) had just birthed their third child, and he wanted a little more time off. Jason, on one hand, was likely League trained, and probably had no where else to go. On the other hand, he was a complete unknown, and it would be a week at least before she would be able to contact Auntie Talia and have a response as to whether the man was telling the truth. Well, Bridgette always said she was too soft.

“Good news for you is, I am. You can start as soon as the family doctor looks you over and gives you a clean bill of health. The issue is, what will your cover be?”

“Er, cover?” Jason asked.

“I’m going to need an excuse to suddenly have a random guy escorting me all over Paris, and it’s not exactly common knowledge that I’m the next head of the Triad. I’m also something of a public figure here in Paris.” Marinette blushed at the reminder. Her brand, MDC, had taken off not long after she graduated, thanks to Jagged bragging about her at every turn. “I mean,” she snorted. “we could go the route of claiming you’re my boyfriend or something.” Giggling, Marinette stood and made her way towards her room. “Try to think of something, while I grab a quick shower. I can’t stand family meetings.” Leaving Jason seated on the couch, lost in thought, Marinette shut her door behind her and fired off a quick text to the number saved as “Auntie T’ in her main phone, before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her walk in and heading to the attached bathroom. She had some thinking to do.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

My Person

It’s a Sunday morning drabble complete with head-cold editing and runny nose ruminations ... hold nothing against me except possibly a cold compress on my forehead ...

&&&&&&&&&&

Safe for all -- rated ‘G’ Skinner-friendly Includes Waffles and Stuff 

What more could you ask for

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&&

She’d ridden with him in the ambulance, leaving Mulder behind to deal with the blood, the body, and the barrage. She needed a few stitches but those were taken care of quickly and efficiently while Skinner moved from the ER directly to the operating room, the right side of his body full of holes from one Curtis Barkley and his modified AR-15.

She could easily handle eight stitches to her forehead.

&&&&&&&&

Mulder, four hours later, finally had the time to wonder about his boss and his partner. Trying to call, she didn’t answer, so wrapping up his end of business, he trudged first to his car, then drove through the dark to the hospital, figuring since she wasn’t back at his side, she’d still be there.

Leaving his jacket, armor, and swat helmet in the car, he kept his gun tucked under his arm as he made his way through the emergency room entrance. Clearing through security, he asked around, discovering Skinner was out of surgery and in recovery while the red-haired agent he was inquiring about was up in the fourth-floor waiting room. Heading in that direction, he got off the elevator, stretching his back as he did so, and caught a glimpse of her hunched in a chair, head down, hands dangling.

Waving his ‘hello’ to Genevieve, one of their many guardian angel nurses he knew by name, he headed towards Scully. Crouching in front of her, she didn’t startle but looked up, having heard the unique cadence of his walk. Mulder tilted his head, “how’s boss man?”

“Holding his own.” Looking around the small area, she tried to find a clock and gave up quickly, “what time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Nearly had to run out to get Sam a pizza so he’d let me up here but Darla sweet-talked him for me.” Giving her what might have been a small smile in another universe, “we know these people too well.”

“Did you see Genevieve?”

“Yeah. Remind me to ask about her oldest. He was applying to Princeton last time we talked.”

Nodding, she held his gaze for a moment, “how did things go on your end?”

“We’ll talk about that later.” Reaching up, he touched the skin around her stitches, “no bandage?”

“No. It would have covered my eye so I refused.”

Continuing his fingers along her temple then down her cheek absently, he stood, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before he sat down, “so, hungry?”

They hadn’t eaten since the night before and being honest, “I should be but I’m not.”

About to tell her he was buying her dinner anyways, Genevieve popped in, her voice quiet, “Mr. Skinner’s been moved to his own room if you’d like to go see him for a minute.”

“What room?”

“412. It’s around the corner and down the hall. The other end of the floor.”

“Thanks.” Once she’d left them alone again, “how about we go check on him then we go find food?”

Scully didn’t move to get up, instead tilting her head in his direction, “have you noticed at all the lack of people here?”

He didn’t see where she was going with this, “yeah, it’s midnight. On a Tuesday. At a hospital. I think bustling would be more noteworthy.”

“No. I mean, there’s nobody here for him. Some people from the Bureau were earlier but since he can’t tell his side, they said they’d be back tomorrow. Otherwise, he has no family, Mulder. There’s no one here for him.”

Mulder understood now and reaching over, he rested his hand on her knee, squeezing it once, “then he gets us. I never had anyone until you so now, we will be his you.” Shaking his head, “sorry. That sounds stupid but I’m hungry and exhausted. I’ll make better sense tomorrow.”

Her voice low, oddly surprised she hadn’t asked before this, “didn’t Diana or your mom ever come see you?”

“Hell no. Diana hated hospitals. Once she found out I wasn’t dead, she told me she’d see me at home and don’t even get me started on Mom.”

Knowing when to move on, she covered his hand with hers, “412, right?”

Standing, he pulled her up, “let’s go.”

&&&&&&&&&

Once in the room, noting the normal monitors, nothing beeping, nothing blinking red and terrifying, he led her to the other side of the bed, where two chairs sat empty, seemingly waiting for the pair of them, “sit?”

She didn’t object.

Quiet for a minute or two, as the vinyl settled under their weight and their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Mulder took a deep breath, “he’s a mess.”

Skinner’s right side was heavily bandaged, covering stitches from shoulder to hip. Barkley had been so close when Skinner startled him that the bullets had gone through Skinner’s flesh to bury themselves in the wall behind but had left enough damage to reduce the Marine to a bloody mess. Scully had held him together as well as she could, pressing on shredded holes, yelling for an ambulance, yelling at Skinner to stay awake, yelling at Mulder to make sure that son of a bitch Barkley was dead.

Thankfully, she wasn’t still covered in their boss’s blood, Genevieve having given her a scrub top and liberal use of a shower in one of the empty rooms. Her jeans were still caked but from the waist up she was clean, dry, and now still staring at her boss without blinking until she broke the silence, “those bullets would have caught me square in the face if Skinner hadn’t gone in first.”

That was what would keep him from sleeping for the next few days, “I know,” his hand found hers over the padded arms of their chairs, “and I’d prefer if we never spoke of that again, thanks very much.”

She was in a strange mood and she could feel it settling in, mingling with the exhaustion of the last five days. Melancholy? Morose? Maudlin? “we’ve never used both chairs before.”

He honestly had to stop and think, “no. I guess we haven’t. It’s usually one of us in the bed.” Giving her a thoughtful look, he took hold of her hand once again, running his thumb over knuckles at random intervals until, “you know I love you, right?”

Sudden, unexpected tears pricked her eyes but she held them back, “you’ve never said it but I figured you did. I mean, how many times have you sat vigil in that chair for me? That tells me more than words ever could.”

“I love you, Scully.”

Finally giving up a smile, “you know I love you, too, right?”

“I think it wavers occasionally, especially when I’m an asshole but for the most part, I think you do … a lot of the time, at least … I hope.”

“I love you, Mulder.”

She would have continued but suddenly, a groggy voice crackled at them, “I love you both, too, now will you shut up and get out of my room already. I’m trying to sleep.”

Scully’s smile broke wide and both stood immediately, Scully starting to apologize as Mulder pulled her towards the door, “g’night, sir, glad you’re still with us.”

Stopping him from taking her out the door, she let go of Mulder for a moment and moved to Skinner’s side, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “we’ll be back tomorrow and for the record, I owe you … big time.”

Mulder called from the doorway, “I owe you even bigger. Come on, Scully, let the man sleep.”

Both disappeared out the door and Skinner moaned a groan, his finger finding the call button for more drugs. He’d been happily asleep until those two idiots of his had walked in the door. The three of them would be having a long talk about personal space and indoor voices in the near future.

&&&&&&&&&

Waving goodnight to Genevieve and her cohort, both smiling at them from the desk, Mulder moved Scully to stand by the elevator, button pushed, wait ensuing. Toying with her fingers as they dangled beside his, he grasped one digit then two, “not to scare you or anything but you also realize that you’re my person, right? You are my emergency contact, my power of attorney, and you have the only spare key to my apartment in existence.”

“So, you only love me because without me, you couldn’t get into your apartment.”

The elevator doors opened and he playfully shoved her forward, “get in there so I can take you to breakfast.”

Once in the box, enclosed and moving slowly to the parking level, Scully leaned in, hugging his arm, “do you know you’re my person, too?”

“Always have been, Scully.” Waiting three beats until the doors opened again, exhaust mixed with dank humidity hitting them, “and always will be.”

Leaving her arm through his as they headed to the car, “I think we should go to Waffles and Stuff.”

Kissing the top of her head once again, “you and your waffles.”

“Love me, love my waffles.”

[koreaweeb]

Marionette - Five of Spades (1)

TW: SWEARING, VIOLENCE, SEXUAL VIOLENCE, SEXUAL CONTENT

-

-

Chuya Kurenai - Day 4 of Sojourn

Toei Sendagaya Apartment.

In the days of the real world, this was just an apartment complex among many others in Japan. In Borderland, however, this particular apartment complex was looking especially ominous. 

Walking up the steps felt extremely heavy. 

Stepping into the venue, Arisu Ryohei and Karube Daikichi looked at each other. There were quite a lot of people gathered already. They had only experienced one game so far, and without further knowledge of what the games were, they had no idea whether these people would be useful to them.

“Excuse me~”

A soft sweet voice came from behind, and Arisu and Karube both stepped to one side. Still in her red cocktail dress and her six-inch heels, Chuya Kurenai nodded a thanks as she walked past them, sweeping her long black hair over her shoulders.

All eyes were on her. 

Was this woman for real?

Was she a newcomer? She certainly looked like one.

Ding dong~

This was not the time for them to care about someone else. With registration closed, the game was about to begin.

“All you good children, it’s now 6 o’clock. Due to the frequent appearance of murderers, please be careful on your way home. It is now time for the game. The game you will be participating in is Tag. Entry limit, none. Inventory, none. Difficulty level, Five of Spades.”

It was easy to tell the newcomers from those with experience.

As soon as the game was announced, a handful had a confused look. They were basically advertising that they had no idea what they were doing. A girl with short hair reached into her bag, pulling out a set of clothes and changed into them right there. She had the right idea. 

Kurenai took her heels off too, holding them in one hand.

A small gesture, but someone took notice. Isolated from the group with earphones in, the guy in the hoodie smiled. She looked like a newcomer but really, the woman in the red dress was experienced. She knew what to expect just from the game introduction alone.

“And finally, the rules will be explained. Everyone in this complex will be running from ‘it’. There is only one ‘game clear’ condition. In this complex, there is only one unlocked room. That is the safe zone. The time limit is 30 minutes. If you touch the safe zone within 30 minutes, you will successfully clear the game. There are two ‘game over’ conditions. The time limit is reached, or ‘it’ kills all participants. In the case of reaching the time limit, this complex will explode. Once ‘game over’ occurs, there will be no survivors.”

GAME START

Given five minutes before ‘it’ began hunting, the players were quick to scatter. 

The blonde in the hoodie was calm, however. He unplugged his charger, and while everyone seemed to be panicking, he casually walked up to the elevator. Just as the door was about to close, a pair of heels stopped the doors and Kurenai stepped into the elevator with him.

She reached for the number 7 button at the same time as the blonde. 

They looked at each other for a second before Kurenai pressed the button. They did not talk, but from her experience, Kurenai could tell that this guy was reliable. Well, more reliable than anyone else in this game. Still, she would not trust him with her life. That was her own responsibility.

Arriving at the top floor, they stepped out together and walked to the far corner. 

Not too long after, a big man and a skinny man appeared on the top floor too. The blonde gave them a little wave but they were quick to dismiss him, going the other way.

“Ex-boyfriend?” Kurenai asked, her tone of voice obviously teasing.

He smiled. It was rare to find someone as nonchalant as he was about the games in Borderland. Newcomers were always in a state of panic and confusion, while those who survived a few games tend to be calmer but they could never help but show fear when actually in a game. 

“Were you on a date when you came here?” he asked.

Looking down at her dress, Kurenai shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “I should probably change out of it. It’s starting to smell a little.”

“And the shoes?”

Surely the heels were not practical for any games, yet she kept them.

“These are Louboutins.” She showed him the red soles. “I’m not about to throw them away.”

“Why did you follow me up here? Are you looking to partner up?”

“Isn’t it basic knowledge?” she hummed, tilting her head slightly to the side. “In a game of hunt like this, the one on higher grounds has the advantage. Isn’t that why you came up here?”

Well that was surprising. 

Never judge a book by its cover, and this woman was definitely the opposite of her looks. She was smart, and she was calculative. She certainly would be useful in games, but unfortunately, he did not like to partner up.

Five minutes went by and suddenly, everyone was on high alert. Everyone but Kurenai who was humming a tune softly. He did not know the words, but Chishiya knew the tune as the hide and seek song Korean children would sing when they played the game. This woman was twisted, and he loved it. This game was suddenly a lot more interesting.

The apartment complex was eerily quiet, and it seemed as if everyone was holding their breaths so as not to be caught. So far, no one had seen ‘it’ and there was no indication of where ‘it’ would come from. 

RATATATATATA

What sounded like gunshots echoed around the complex. 

Then, came the screaming and the sound of footsteps running down the stairs.

Kurenai shook her head and let out a sigh. If ‘it’ were hunting them with a gun, it was pretty much suicide running down the stairs. Once they reached the ground floor, there was nowhere else but the hallway to run to. And once they were in the hallway, they would be trapped. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

[nerdyfangirl67]

I Won’t Leave - NCIS Reader Insert

Characters: Gibbs, Abby, Tony, McGee

Warnings: missing Gibbs and a missing child, Mother!Reader has a bit of a panic attack, some violence and criminal activity. Some POV switching

Word count: 2074

Request: @gibbsandpridegirl​

A/N: Y/N/N means your nickname. I changed a few things from your request, but I hope this lives up to your expectations @gibbsandpridegirl​ And I know the POV switches are a bit confusing, but I hope everyone is able to make sense of it.

Anastasia had been hovering around your desk since you had arrived in the bullpen. You hadn’t paid her much mind as you start opening your countless new emails from the day before, but when she starts to pull on the sleeve of your blue button-up, you turn a bit in your chair and give her your attention, making sure she could read your lips as you speak. 

“Anastasia, I know it’s not the most fun here, but it will only be for a few hours.” You say half-heartedly, too tired from the lack of a good night’s rest, combined with the exhaustion you were experiencing from working three back-to-back cases. You were, admittedly, still trying to scan your emails as you spoke to her.

She nudges you again, this time causing you to turn to her fully. “What Anastasia?” Your tone was sharper than before, and although Anastasia wouldn’t be able to pick up on it, your tone did cause Tim to lift his head and look at you, sending a worried stare your way. You shake your head at him pointedly. 

Anastasia starts rapidly signing, something she did when she either didn’t feel comfortable talking or if she wanted to ‘speak’ quickly. ‘Papa is late. He should be here by now mom. Where is he? Where is he?’ It takes you a second to connect the dots, but you realize your daughter is right, Gibbs was late. You make sure to face her as you stand. “I don’t know angel.” You catch Tim’s attention with a stern clearing of your throat and give a quick, questioning nod towards Gibbs’ desk. Tim’s brow furrows and he immediately picks up his desk phone and punches in a number, one you know is Gibbs’. He apparently gets no answer as he slams his phone back down in his haste to get on his computer.

Your attention shifts from Anastasia to Tim as you see a frustrated look overtake his face. You swiftly walk to his desk, leaning towards him. Tim grips one of your hands with his, his eyes searching yours.  You ask quietly under your breath, mostly to prevent Tony from looking over at the two of you, “Where is he?”

You should have known that would never happen. That man had the hearing of a dog when he wanted to. “What’s up Mr. and Mrs. McGee?” Tony asks, standing from his desk and walking over to you both. “What are you two whispering about?” 

Tim starts to fill in Tony as you look around the bullpen for Anastasia. She had been rather quiet after grabbing your attention and you were starting to worry about where she had wandered off to. You scan the bullpen, once, twice, three times before scurrying back to check underneath your desk, just in case. 

“Y/N/N, what are you doing?” Tim asks, standing up as well upon seeing your distress.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins and the racing of your thoughts have you answering in a smattering of incomplete thoughts. “I-I can’t find her Tim. I don’t...where did she...I can’t find our daughter.” At this point you were hysterically searching in the cubicles around the bullpen, earning startled glances and disapproving looks from those in their cubicles. All the worst-case scenarios were swirling around in your head as you look among the desks on the floor. You even stick your head in both bathrooms, in case she was in one of them.

When you came back into the bullpen you notice that Tony was gone and it was just Tim. He places a firm set of hands on your shoulders, holding you in place and effectively grounding you. “Y/F/N, take a breath. Tony went down to see if Abby would go over the security footage for the floor. He will be back in a minute.” Tim’s voice was soothing as he pulled you into his embrace. You took a deep breath in, inhaling his scent. “She couldn’t have gone far.” You appreciate Tim’s collected cool at the moment, as you were barely keeping it together.

After only a few minutes, Tony returns with Abby and Ducky trailing behind him. Abby immediately pulls you into a hug, whispering a soft “It will be fine” in your ear. As you step back from the embrace, you hear Tony telling Tim that Anastasia had left the bullpen via the elevator after she had stopped and looked at something on Gibbs’ desk. You spin around, turning to look at the mess that had taken claim over Gibbs’ desk.

“What? What did she see?” You frantically ask Tony as you start rummaging through the papers, files, and scraps of paper.

“Hey, Y/F/N.” Tim soothes as he places a hand on your arm. “Just stop for a second and let’s look at this differently. What if Anastasia was looking for something that might tell her where Gibbs is? You know how connected the two of them are.” Tim’s words make you remember what the original issue had been, Gibbs’ extreme tardiness, something that was uncharacteristic for him.

You step away from the desk, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. What would I be looking for if I was Anastasia? You let the thought sink in before opening your eyes and looking at the desk in a new light. After a minute of sifting through the papers on top of the desk, you find a scrap of paper with an address written on it. It wasn’t an address you remembered from any previous case or the current case for that matter.

“Tim, I’m going to look up this address. Can you and Tony gather footage from traffic cameras in the area to see if you can find any indication of where Anastasia or Gibbs went?” Tim voices his agreement and you move from Gibbs’ desk to your own to get to work.

-- GIBBS --

Gibbs hadn’t been late to work that morning. In fact, he had arrived earlier than he usually did, intent on hunting down a lead on their current case that had been bugging him all night long. A nagging feeling of doubt had followed him around after he and Tony had interviewed the only witness to the murder of CPO (Chief Petty Officer) Johnson. Staff Sergeant Bennett’s, the witness and a good friend of the victim, story had been too perfect in Gibbs’ opinion. He conveniently hadn’t seen the killer’s face, yet knew the exact weapon that had been used. He hadn’t been able to accurately describe the killer’s physique, yet he had many a speculation as to why this suspect had attacked CPO Johnson. Upon arriving at his desk, Gibbs booted up his computer and quickly searched up Bennett’s address.

His hasty departure from the building led to him forgetting the slip he wrote the address on, on top of his desk. Lucky enough, he knew where Bennett’s apartment building was, and it wasn’t far. He made the short five minute drive in four and was on the second floor, knocking on Bennett’s heavy metal apartment door less than two minutes after that. After waiting a few moments, Gibbs’ hand reaches for the door handle, in hopes of the door being unlocked when suddenly it swings open to reveal Staff Sergeant Bennett.

“Ah, Agent Gibbs. What brings you here this early in the morning?” His voice is polite and a fake smile is plastered to his face.

“I thought I would come and go over a few details of your testimony.” He answers stiffly, not fully trusting the man in front of him.

“Why don’t you come in then Agent? We can discuss whatever you want.” Bennett said, stepping aside to allow space for him to get into the apartment. That was the last coherent thought that he had before a sharp, heavy weight hit him in the back of the head.

An incessant knocking on the door of the apartment, along with a deep, throbbing pain, pulls him from the fog clouding his mind. He felt where the gun had connected with his head and where Bennett had kicked him multiple times in the back and ribs. His face and head were throbbing from the multiple hits Bennett had given him. He was in such intense pain that he couldn’t even bring himself to move.

He stayed still for a moment, looking around to see if Bennett was still in the apartment. Bennett was nowhere to be found. A knocking on the door broke him from his thoughts. He tried to sit up, but the rush of pain made him gasp and slowly fade back into darkness.

--YOU--

The hours tick by slowly as you keep coming up with nothing. The address belonged to a Staff Sergeant Bennett, who Tony and Gibbs had interviewed the day before. Tony had gone to check out the address and the door had, conveniently, been unlocked. Tony didn’t find anything out of place in the room and had returned shortly later. 

All the other leads the three of you had pursued since then had led to nothing and each dead end had left you more and more frustrated and upset. You had just about given in to the emotions that were fighting for control when Tim’s desk phone rang. 

You turn your attention to Tim and listen in on his side of the conversation, hoping that it was a break in the case.

“Hello,...yes, this is he...just now?...are you sure?...okay, we’ll be there right away.” He hung up and caught your eye immediately. 

“That was the hospital not too far from here. Gibbs arrived in an ambulance with a little girl just over an hour ago. He is fine, just banged up. Anastasia was the one to give the nurse my name and number to contact me.” He says as he stood, grabs his jacket and with you trailing closely behind him, quickly makes his way for the elevator. The two of you are in your car less than five minutes later, heading for the hospital at record speed. 

The car is barely stopped before you are out of the passenger seat and running for the emergency entrance. You frantically demand Gibbs’ room number from a nurse and are running off in the direction of the room before she even has a chance to ask if you are family. You reach the room only a short minute later and are flying into the room without stopping to knock.

“Anastasia.” You call, catching Gibbs’ attention in the bed, and as a response, Anastasia’s too. You scoop the girl up in your arms and squeeze her tight, tears of relief falling down your cheeks. Tim has arrived in the room and pulls you both into his embrace. He presses a kiss to Anastasia’s head and then to yours, whispering, “It’s alright now. We are all together.”

You pull back from the embrace and look Anastasia in the eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again. You scared me so badly Anastasia. It was so dangerous. You could have gotten hurt, or worse, taken.” You say it slowly, taking your hands away from her so you could sign it as well, wanting to make sure she understood you. Tim nods and adds, “We are here to help. We don’t ever want you to do something like that alone, again.”

Anastasia nods her head before she starts to rapidly sign back to you and Tim. ‘I was worried about Papa. He was supposed to be at work but he wasn’t. I found the address and used the GPS on my phone to find it. No one was there when I knocked so I opened the door. And then I saw Papa lying on the ground, hurt. I called 911 using that app that Daddy put on my phone and waited with him for the ambulance to arrive.’ She paused, wiping away a tear that had fallen. ‘And when we got here, I couldn’t leave him. He stayed with me and I had to stay with him.’

She turns and gives Gibbs a big hug, which he returns. As he holds her tight he says, “Don’t be too hard on her. I know you two were worried, but she did what you taught her. You taught her to stay calm, call 911, and be strong. And she was.”