#yes i count water guns as guns. argue with the wall

[hidingoutbackstage]

Ashley with guns in Biohazard Clan Master (part 2)

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

I like your stories. :) can I pls have one with Rio? I’m not too picky about the scenario. Maybe him being over protective or sexual anything really.

Thank you so much, you’re so sweet 😘 Hope you like this. Also, are you guys watching Good Girls tonight !? Can’t wait to see what happens next 🤔

Not your property - Rio (Good Girls)

Warning: Language, Angst, Smut

Word Count : 2k

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“Why are you overreacting? I didn’t do anything wrong” you said your hands thrown in the air as you spoke with your boyfriend

“Exactly, you didn’t do anything because that guy stayed there, trying to get with you” He sighed pacing around the dining room.

“I told him I wasn’t interested and that I was waiting for my boyfriend, what did you want me to do, punch him in the face?” you asked rolling your eyes only to get him angrier.

“Yes maybe, but you didn’t, so I had to take care of it, show him what’s mine” He almost screamed making your blood boil at his nonsense.

“You think because we’re together, it makes me your property?” you scoffed “You don’t own me Rio”His eyes turned dark, furious that you were arguing with him, he loved your attitude but not when you used it against him. You almost never called him by his name, so when you did, he knew you were equally mad.

“Don’t say that” he responded in between gritted teeth.

“Whatever, I’m tired of arguing, I’m going to take a shower” you turned around as he followed you. You got into the bathroom closing the door before he could even get in to continue with the debate. You started the shower as you got undressed getting inside, letting the hot water relax your muscles.

On the other side, Rio was trying to open the door, failing only to fuel his anger. He took a deep breath, going back to the kitchen fixing himself a glass of vodka to calm him down. He moved to the living room, sitting down on the couch, turning on the tv, letting his head rest on the back of the sofa sighing softly. He knew you were mad at him for getting mad at you, but he couldn’t help it. When he arrived at the bar to meet you after one hell of a day, he wasn’t pleased to see a guy sitting next to you, trying to talk with his girlfriend. The guy was drunk and didn’t get the hint when you denied him, and when Rio arrived, he had to take care of it. After he threatened the guy’s life with his famous golden gun, he grabbed you, pulling you out the bar as he drove back to your shared apartment. He was looking forward to spending a nice evening with you after the stressful day he had but he had no luck.

Part of him felt bad for lashing at you, he knew it wasn’t exactly your fault, a beautiful woman like you sitting at a bar all alone was meant to be hitting on in a way. Not that it excused the drunken man trying to flirt with you even when you said you weren’t interested, but he understood why he would want to get to know you. You gave off a good vibe and you were beautiful, and he knew for a fact that you had probably been very polite when denying the guy, something he didn’t like. He knew you could give attitude and sass, so if you had, the man wouldn’t have been trying to steal you away from him. Were you just too tired to even acknowledge the guy or were you maybe liking the attention he was giving you?  

The thoughts made his blood boil again as you walked out and sat beside him keeping a certain distance. You hated fighting with Rio, and you never wanted to go to sleep mad at each other, so you wanted to talk to clear things up before bed. You looked at his angry figure deciding to stay silent while you directed your eyes to the movie playing. There was something about the way he flared his nostrils and knitted his eyebrows that made you want to do unholy things to him. The way his arms were crossed and one of his hand was playing with bottom lip trying to calm himself made you squeezed your thighs at the thoughts of him fucking you senseless. You looked his way once again, but his eyes were staring at the tv, still not acknowledging you sitting next to him. When something made him really angry or you guys got into a fight, he would often give you the silent treatment, not wanting to say anything hurtful in the heat of the moment. Tonight was no different.

“Are you still mad?” you questioned getting no response

“I didn’t mean to make you angry, I told him I was not interested” still no answer. You had enough, you wanted to be close to him, to kiss him, to hold him but he was avoiding you. Huffing you decided to pull yourself closer to him, trying to get a reaction or even a look out of him. Still nothing. In one swift motion, you straddled his lap, trapping him under you, his eyes now landing on your face, sighing.

“Will you please stop ignoring me? I just want to go to bed and cuddle” you pouted as he sat still, staring blankly at your face. You proceeded to grind softly against him, hoping to get a reaction. You knew Rio, and he never was one to turn down sex, so when you started to move your hips a bit faster on him, he sighed grabbing your hips harshly

“What do you think you’re doing (Y/N)?” he asked following the movement of your tongue as you licked your lips. You knew how to get to him, and you knew all his weakness, he hated that, but you always found a way to used them against him especially during these moments. His biggest weakness being you, he never was able to deny your demands. He was following your every move as you continued to rub against him, feeling him get harder under you.

“Nothing” you managed to say as you moved your head to the crook of his neck leaving a trail of kisses behind. He was trying not to let It show, but he was enjoying himself. You kissed his jaw, the corner of his mouth purposely missing his lips, and you went back to his neck before nibling on his ear slightly, something he adored.

“You know, I never got to tell you how hot I thought you looked when you confronted that guy” you whispered against his ear licking it slowly

“The way you gripped that gun of yours, it made me want to drop to my knees in front of everyone”you stated as he let out a throaty groan, pulling you closer by the back of your neck, crashing his lips to yours. The kiss was rough and needy, and you could still feel the angst radiating from his body. You continued to rock your hips against his, making you whimper as he ripped the flannel you were wearing, open. You gasped feeling the cold air against your naked skin, your nipples hardening at the anticipation of his next movement. He moved his hand to your breasts needling at them making you moaned against his mouth.

You lifted your body a little to give you access to his lower half, managing to pull his hard cock from his pants. His lips made their way to your collarbone as you pumped his throbbing dick a few times, making him bite your skin slightly. You aligned yourself on top of him, sinking down slowly, letting out a small moan as you felt your walls being stretched out. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving marks while you bounced up and down on his member. He grunted, admiring you as you threw your head back, feeling his finger sneak up on your swollen clit bringing you closer to the edge.

“F-fuck baby, don’t stop” You moaned feeling yourself on the verge of orgasming, before Rio grabbed your hips flipping you around, so he could be on top. You whined at the loss of contact on your clit but screamed in pleasure as soon as he pushed back into you roughly. He moved at a fast pace, trapping your throat with his hand as he lifted one of your legs on in shoulder to get better access to your aching core. His eyes were full of lust and need as he pounded into you. You knew part of him was still angry by the way he was grabbing your neck. He didn’t put enough pressure to hurt you, but his tight grip was enough for you to know he was still thinking about your fight. You grabbed his bicep tightly as he picked up his pace and roamed into you even harder than before, making you shriek in both pleasure and surprise. You hated fighting with Rio, but you sure loved the outcome. It always ended up with some angry and amazing makeup sex.

“Oh my god, yes!” you screamed in pleasure, your eyes rolling back

“Who’s making you feel this good (Y/N)?” he asked still pounding into you harshly, the only sound coming out of you being a moan. “Answer me” he continued

“Y-You” you said almost whispering, before you felt a slap on your thigh “Fuck baby! You, you are” you screamed tears welling up in your eyes as you could feel your release coming soon.

“That’s right mama! Me and no one else. You hear me?” He stated bringing his finger to rub your swollen clit feeling you clench around him.

“YES F-FUCK!” you screamed loudly as you felt yourself coming undone, panting heavily. Rio gave a few more thrusts as you rode your orgasm before he pulled out, moving to the end of the couch, standing near the armrest. He motioned for you to come closer, and you listened, laying down on the sofa, your head hanging upside down from the armrest. You opened your mouth and as soon as you did, Rio’s cock was down your throat. Your hand moved to massage his balls as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. He leaned in a little, his dick pushing further into your mouth, as his finger reached your wet fold, playing with it once again, making you moan against him.  

He groaned loudly as you hollowed your cheeks wanting to feel him finish in your mouth. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly. You moved at a fast pace while Rio continued to pleasure you bringing you to your climax for the second time. You moaned loudly around him, and it was all it took for him to release on your tongue grunting lightly as his eyes closed. Spurts of his cum dripping on your lips as you couldn’t genuinely swallow it all. You sat back up, turning around, looking at him through your lashes as he stood there staring back at you, licking his fingers.

“Are you still mad at me” you asked him, biting your bottom lip

“How is it possible to stay mad at you?” He smirked holding your cheeks, leaving a peck on your temple. You smiled at him, standing up as you got dressed.

“You hungry? I can make something to eat while you go take a shower” you proposed, putting your arms around him. He accepted and left to go in the bathroom while you prepared something for the both of you. You put some music, swaying your hips as you started cooking. Arms found their way around your waist, and you knew Rio was smiling, you didn’t even have to see his face.

“What you making baby?” he asked swaying his hips against yours slowly to the beat of the music.

“Just some pasta” you answered putting down the spoon, turning towards him, lacing you arms around his neck

“I love you mama, you know that, right?” he questioned, pushing the hair that was on your face, away

“I love you too baby, especially when you’re being jealous and protective” you responded laughing slightly as Rio rolled his eyes before pushing his lips against yours, kissing you slowly as you both smiled into the kiss.

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Thanks for reading 

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

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Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

[claire-voyanc3]

Make It or Break It (pt. 3 - on hiatus)

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky and y/n have a... complicated relationship. After being sent on a mission together that leaves Bucky in a compromising position, things only get harder for the pair. (enemies to lovers)

CWs: angst? arguing, descriptions of fighting/violence, smut (MINORS DNI), swearing, blood/injuries, explosions, a little bit of dubcon if you squint at it (consent is non-negotiable and involves a clear and enthusiastic yes, without the use of substances!)

Word Count: 5.7k words

Murphy’s Law states that  "anything that can go wrong, will go wrong”. 

Now, standing here with a squadron of soldiers blocking the only way for you and Bucky to make an escape, you were beginning to think that Murphy’s Law was made specifically with you in mind. 

Bucky came to a screeching halt, you not far behind him. 

“Hey, doll, you remember what I taught you last night?”

“Sure do, Buck.”

“Great - now is a perfect time for some practice then.” 

Bucky pulled a knife from his boot and easily launched forward, taking down the first two soldiers before they could even take a step. Another soldier raised his gun and pointed it directly at Bucky’s face. Bucky grabbed the weapon without hesitation and wrenched the assailant's arm backward at a sickening angle. Your body finally caught up to your brain and suddenly you were moving into the thick of the combat. You started sparring with one soldier, quickly taking him down with an elbow to the face. He fell, unconscious and bleeding, at your feet.  

Ha! I came up with that one all on my own, Barnes.  

You stripped the soldier of his baton and moved onto your next target. 

It was...well, surprising. You and Bucky were fighting together like partners. Like every move the other person made was somehow being communicated before it even happened. It was easy. Well, it wasn’t easy - you were still getting your ass thoroughly beat and you were positive that you were going to wake up looking like you had gotten jumped in a back alley somewhere. But it was almost like second-nature, the way that you and Bucky fought together. 

The number of soldiers between you and the door was dwindling slowly, and you were beginning to think that you actually had a chance at escaping - Until you heard the deep guttural yell from behind you. You quickly turned around and saw Bucky, right hand tightly clasped below his left armpit. You didn’t have to wait long to figure out what had happened - blood had spurted onto the wall beside him and the burly soldier standing in front of him was still wielding the knife. 

Shit. 

A drop of ice started in your bloodstream, but it didn’t have much time to bloom into your chest before you got punched so hard in the face you saw stars. Your eyes immediately watered, and you stumbled back, blindly jabbing into the air.  

This bitch just broke my nose. 

A fiery rage quickly replaced the icy feeling of dread. You slashed at the man's face, marking it with a line of blood drawn with the tip of your knife. He threw a right hook and you dodged it easily. Sweeping his legs out from under him, you climbed on top of him and began punching, pummeling his face so hard you lost all feeling in your hands. You didn’t stop until he stopped moving. Panting, you climbed off him and tried to make your way over to Bucky, but the adrenaline made your legs wobbly and you staggered over like a newborn deer. 

Bucky had easily taken down the man who had stabbed him - that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that both you and him were losing blood fast and you probably had about a minute to vacate the building before your little surprise in the lab sent the place up in flames. 

“Bucky to Nat - we need immediate evac, we have two injured down here.” 

Bucky’s breathing was ragged, his hand still clasped tightly to his side, though it didn’t do much to staunch the flow of blood. Thick, deep red droplets still raced down the side of his tac suit. 

“Bucky to Nat - do you read?” Silence. 

“Bucky to Nat - can you hear me?” More silence. 

“Bucky to - shit!” Bucky ripped the earpiece out and threw it down to the floor. “The damn comms are down.” 

You wrapped a supportive arm around Bucky, helping him step over the bodies of the soldiers you had just encountered. 

“It’s fine, I know somewhere we can go but we need to leave now.” You insisted. 

Every second that you stayed in that building was another 10 feet you lost from moving out of the blast radius. The two of you shakily made your way over to the door, stopping just feet from its threshold when you heard a peculiar sound behind you.

               clink, clink, clink.

Both you and Bucky turned at the strange noise. On the ground just feet in front of you, you saw it. The small, oblong, greenish, grayish device sat there, unmoving. 

A grenade. 

You turned to run, but before you could even take a step, Bucky was pushing you out the door. You stumbled, falling face first onto the damp grass. You turned your head, making sure that Bucky was behind you. But of course he wasn’t. Instead you saw the grenade start to spurt a thick yellowish haze before being completely obscured by none other than James Buchanan Barnes. 

That selfless son of a bitch. 

You had expected an explosion. I mean, it was a grenade. What else would you expect? Instead you had laid there, ducking for cover just feet from the door for all of thirty seconds before Bucky came stumbling out of the building and hauled you up by the back of your shirt. You didn’t have time to question him before the two of you were running as fast and far as possible, trying to make it away before - 

BOOM!

The building behind you burst into flames. Honestly, you fought the urge to laugh.

 “I guess it was peroxide.” you mumbled, relieved. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

As you and Bucky started up the path to the safe house (which, quite honestly, was more of a safe hole. Seriously, the door was almost rusted shut and all that was inside was a decrepit card table and a few old wooden chairs) he told you what happened. It wasn’t a grenade - not a real one at least. When it went off it had released this weird yellow dust. Your heart immediately sank. 

You started to panic, adrenaline confusing your mind in the worst way possible. Bucky was hurt bad and deteriorating quickly now that the adrenaline was leaving his system. The wound on his chest hadn’t stopped bleeding, if anything, it had gotten worse. Your nose was no longer actively bleeding, just throbbing, and you were sure your eyes were black at this point. An ever increasing part of you knew it was only downhill from here, especially with no way to contact Nat and Sam. You had sat through plenty of team briefings about this dust that Bucky was talking about - Nizmennoye Zhelaniye or whatever they called it. You and the team had always called it N-Z dust. It was designed, chemically engineered, to attack the most primal parts of your brain, to make weaknesses out of the things no human could live without; food, water, shelter and sex. The first three were never the biggest problem for those affected by this chemical concoction - they were easy enough to find in almost any environment - the last one, however, was almost always what ended up driving the person mad. 

The more you spiraled down this rabbit hole, the quicker and shallower Bucky’s breathing got. You knew you didn’t have much, if any, time before he started to feel the effects in full force. You scrambled over to the corner that he was sitting in, ruffling through his supply bag as he weakly tried to form complete sentences. 

Oh shit, he is in worse shape than I thought. 

Finally coming across what you were looking for, you opened every protein pack, glucose pouch and power bar that Steve insisted everyone carry on them in their supply packs. Normally, you would joke with Steve, playfully saying that he was trying to force you to carry provisions to last you through world war three (something he never found very funny) but now, you could’ve kissed him for insisting that you be so over prepared.

 As you set the snacks next to Bucky, he immediately began inhaling them, croaking out small thank you’s between each massive mouthful. 

Even when he’s dying he’s still polite, you thought almost spitefully to yourself. 

You opened up the cap of yours and Bucky’s water bottles, barely getting the chance to set them down before Bucky made a desperate grab for the first bottle, downing it in two gulps. He quickly finished the second one in the same frenzied manner. He seemed to have a bit more clarity now, having some immediate needs met - which was what made his next request even more unsettling.

He turned to you, pain and panic still evident in his eyes as he quietly murmured “get the ties” placing his hands together behind his back and offering them up to you.

 “What?” you asked immediately, too stunned and confused to come up with anything more intelligent. 

“The ties from the pack,” he repeated, as if your brains were tracking along the same path - little did he know that your brains weren’t even on the same planet right now. 

“What for?” you asked, his answer having given you no sense of clarity.

 “I know what this stuff does,” he began, “turns your basic needs against you - makes you crave them insatiably”. He looked at you, expecting you to catch on.

 “So…” you shot back “Do you have an insatiable need to be... arrested?”.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, repositioning himself so he could look at you more straight on. The fear behind his eyes was palpable, and a part of you hurt for him. You knew Bucky had a terrible past, one where his control had been ripped from him and turned him into a person he hated, who did things that he never spoke of. You couldn’t imagine how he felt right now, yet again having his control ripped away from him.

 “Food, check, water, check,” he gestured to the empty water bottles and discarded food wrappers surrounding the two of you.

 “Shelter,” he gestured to the walls enclosing the two of you in.

 “Check, …sex…” he trailed off, raking his eyes down your body as he did so. You blushed and you were sure it was unmistakable.

 “Buck,” you began, but he cut you off.

 “No,” he said firmly “I don’t care what those Hydra bastards spray in my face, I'm not... I’m not taking advantage of you.” The firmness in his voice and finality in his eyes caught you off guard. 

It’s not taking advantage if I want it too, you thought to yourself, before reprimanding your brain for even putting that thought out there. You and Bucky were coworkers, and even though you undeniably had a huge crush on him, you couldn’t sleep with your colleague, especially not when he was drugged. 

Still, you knew that Bucky's request was ridiculous. He was hurt, bad, and he needed medical attention. Unfortunately, until Nat and Sam caught up to the two if you, or your comms started working again, the best he had in the way of medical attention was the little you remember from the mandatory first aid courses Steve ensured you and the team take every three months (again, you’re pretty sure if Steve was here, you would’ve worshipped the ground he walked on). Since you were no Florence Nightingale, you knew you were going to need Bucky’s full range of motion to patch up his chest wound, and even then it would be a shoddy job.

 “No,” you almost laughed “no, Bucky I’m not going to tie you up! You’re hurt, you need first aid, you -” 

He reached for the pack, stopping your tyraid before it had even properly started. 

“Fine. You won’t do it for me,” he grabbed a pair of zip ties out of the front pocket of the pack. “I'll just have to do it myself.” 

“Bucky!” you made a frantic grab for the cords, only for Bucky to rip them away as you got close. The quick jerking movement, however, only underscored your point, as a sharp wince caught Bucky off guard and left him lightheaded enough that he was forced to lean against the wall for support. A small moment of silence passed between the two of you (you were definitely fighting the urge to say ‘I told you so’) before Bucky heaved a big breath (as big as he could manage between the gaping chest wound and the N-Z dust coursing through his veins) and frustratedly said “Fine! Fine just - just go over there and stay”. He pointed to the opposite corner, his voice incredibly firm and his frustration obvious. 

You dug through the pack quickly and produced a small 4x4 square of gauze, leaving it on the floor next to Bucky as you instructed him to hold pressure over his still bleeding wound, and made your way to the other corner of the room. 

Not even five minutes had passed before you started to see blood peeking through the square of gauze Bucky held to his chest. You doubted he even noticed, his eyes shut tight and his breathing shallow and quick as he squirmed in his dank corner across the room.

Surely, if I just went and got another square of gauze… no. Bucky had meant it when he relegated you to your corner and told you to stay there, and Bucky was not a man that you wanted to piss off. 

But…  the nagging voice in your brain began, he won’t be able to hold a grudge if he’s dead. 

God, you hated being right sometimes.

 As quietly as a child sneaking to the candy cupboard in the middle of the night, you made your way over to Bucky's pack and retrieved another square of gauze. Bucky must’ve been in a lot of pain, because even with his super soldier hearing, he didn’t notice you until you gingerly fitted your hand over his to place the gauze. Immediately, he jumped back and fixed you with a glare that could’ve set you on fire. 

His pupils were blown wide, covering up most of the icy blue that usually contrasted so well with his dark hair. 

“I-I told you-you need to -just- stay-stay over there.”

 His cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered.

 “You’re bleeding really bad, Buck” you began, the worry clear in your voice even as you tried to force it out. “Please just- let me look-” 

“No!” he suddenly cut you off. “No just- please (y/n), please go over…” he trailed off, knowing that his pathetic tone wasn’t getting anywhere with you. 

“Buck, please,” you fixed him with your most pleading look and you swore he flushed deeper. He swallowed thickly before shifting uncomfortably and giving in to you. You gingerly began to lift his shirt up, just enough to expose the wound that marred his skin just below his left armpit. 

You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn Bucky’s breathing got even shallower, though how that was possible, you weren’t sure. 

Imagine how shallow his breathing would get if he was on top of you, your brain nagged. 

You felt a wetness begin to form between your thighs, but you quickly forced the thought out of your traitorous mind. Bucky is hurt, and drugged - no matter how badly you wanted him, you needed to fix up his wounds first. You were sure that your train of thought had brought a bright blush to your cheeks, and you could feel them heating up even more as you noticed Bucky’s strangled gasps and moans he tried to hide. 

“(y/n) - please” he weakly begged. You weren’t sure what he was asking for - you to stop or you to keep going. You rested your hand gently against his (incredibly) broad chest, and unmistakably felt the pounding of his heart. 

“It’s okay, Buck '' you muttered, packing his chest wounds and attaching an occlusive dressing over it. “I’m gonna help you feel better,” you continued. 

Wrong choice of words, you silently chided yourself as Bucky responded to your promise with a swallowed moan and a hand on his crotch, readjusting his very prominent bulge. He blushed deeper (again, you weren’t sure how that was even possible) and fixed you with an apologetic look. You could tell he was embarrassed, but you could also tell he was in pain. Fighting this stuff was a one way ticket to the psych ward if you were lucky, and the morgue if you weren’t. 

His bleeding chest wounds attended to, you lowered his shirt back down, not missing the whimper of displeasure and protest that he made as you did so.

 God, you were wet.

 Hearing Bucky’s moans and seeing his straining bulge didn’t help. You grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled it toward you, placing it gently over your knee. He stiffened, the contact leaving him breathless. 

God, you thought. If that is getting him breathless he must be down bad. 

Although you and Bucky never had the closest relationship (if you could even call your pointed glares and sarcastic comments a relationship), he was never one to shy away from making you uncomfortable with his physical presence, using every chance he had to whisper sarcastic quips in your ear while he stood behind you, pressing his chest into your back. The dichotomy between that Bucky and this Bucky, who was breathless and whimpering after a single touch, had you speechless. 

“(Y/n),” he whimpered as he tried to take his hand away and hide his face in his shoulder. He was redder than a fire engine at this point, partly from embarrassment, you were sure, and partly from arousal. The thrusting of his hips was anything but imperceptible, though you still pretended not to notice. 

“Buck,” you began, drawing his hand tighter in yours. He squinted his eyes shut and let out a breathy moan. “Bucky...look at me please,” you whispered, unsure if he would even hear you through his racing thoughts. He forced his eyes open and you caught your breath. His pupils were blown wider than before, his eyes appearing dark and lust filled. Paired with the crimson blush taking over his cheeks and nose - the sight was almost sinful. You felt your heart beat faster at the sight. 

“(Y/n), please go -” his voice was strangled and you could tell it was taking everything in him to keep his control over this situation. You laced your fingers through his, earning another strangled gasp from his pretty lips. You wondered how his lips tasted, or what they would feel like pressed against your neck and collarbone. 

Snap out of it! You quickly reprimanded yourself. Bucky is your coworker. Anything that happens in this room, stays in this room, and it's only because he could die if you don’t do something about it. 

“Buck, please -” you faltered, nervousness taking over your stomach. Why were you nervous? You knew what you were about to offer him was purely for the safety of the mission, not for any other reason. For the mission, you reminded yourself as you took in a deep breath and summoned the courage to speak. 

“Please just… let me help you.” 

This earned a loud, strangled moan from deep in his throat. He thrust his hips into nothing, rutting against the ground in an effort to get some sort of friction. You swallowed thickly and rubbed your legs together, not missing the unmistakable wetness seeping through your panties. 

“No-,” he choked out, seemingly on the verge of tears at having to deny your advance. “I - I told you earlier - I - I,” he thrust his hips upward again and let another series of gasps and moans fall from his mouth.

 “I said that I - I wasn’t - I can’t take advantage -” he was cut off again by another gasp and throaty moan.

You pulled his hand up onto your thigh, unlacing your fingers from his as you placed his palm firmly against your upper leg. His fingers almost immediately dug into the flesh there, only adding to the wetness building in your core. 

“Buck please, you’re desperate, you can’t think straight. It -,” you suddenly stopped yourself, realizing that after what you were about to say, there was no going back. But it’s the truth, you thought to yourself, spitefully. 

“It’s not taking advantage if - if...I want it too.” you finished, your heart beat pounding in your chest. 

Again, Bucky fixed you with that stare, the one so deliciously, sinfully ruined that it should’ve been a crime to look at anyone that way. 

You moved closer to him, loving the way that his breathing picked up as you neared his face. “Please, Buck. I want to help you feel better,” you muttered, so low it was almost a whisper, but you didn’t even have to guess if he heard you. The way his head dipped backward, releasing a long, throaty moan from his chest, you knew he heard exactly what you said. 

“God,” he muttered, taking in a shuddering breath, his head leaning backward against the wall. Even though you knew he heard you, knew that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, he still didn’t move a single muscle. 

This is gonna require a lot more courage than I thought, you begrudgingly told yourself. 

Slowly, gently, you picked up his hand and placed it on your waist, moving closer to him as you did so, until the two of you were just a breath away from each other. You reached up toward his face, grabbing the back of his neck and turning his chin toward you.

“Bucky, I’m right here. I can help. I want to help.”

His eyes fluttered open and his other hand found your waist as well. 

“Please, doll, please,” he began, his words barely above a whisper. His eyes were a hurricane of emotions; desire, panic, pain, and excitement. 

“Help me feel better,”  he whispered, as he pulled you in, kissing you roughly. 

The intensity of his kiss lasted, but the longer your lips were pressed to his, the more it transformed, moving from desperate and rough, to something slower, sweeter, but just as intoxicating. His lips tasted like fresh picked plums, and you fought the urge to laugh. 

Of course he tastes like plums, you thought jovially to yourself. 

Your hands found their way to his hair, carding your fingers through the small curls at the base of his neck. The groan that elicited from him made you squirm. He dragged you from the floor beside him until you were planted firmly in his lap, his bulge making a grand appearance as he ground himself up into you. 

You groaned and moved away from the kiss, instead choosing to focus on his deliciously stubbly jaw and neck. Your heart beat ever faster as your mind went wild, wondering what his stubble would feel like on the inside of your thighs. 

He moaned, intoxicatingly so, and rutted his hips into yours. You could feel his hands twitching as they remained, firmly planted, on your waist. You pulled your lips from his neck and fixed him with a look that probably made you seem desperate.

I am desperate, you thought to yourself.

“Buck - I want you to touch me.” His hips rutted roughly against yours. 

“How do you ask?” he managed, a devilish grin appearing across his kiss bruised lips. 

Is he really going to make me beg when he is in this state? 

Yes. He was. 

He rutted his hips upward again and pulled your chin toward him, so he could look you squarely in the eye. 

“How do you ask?” he repeated, breathless and broken. You knew that he wanted to touch you just as badly as you wanted to feel his hands roaming over your body, all over your body. You also knew that his pride stood too much in the way for him to give you what you both wanted without making you beg for it. 

“Ask nicely, doll.” 

If you weren’t so terribly needy for him right now, you would’ve smacked that smirk right off his face. But the thing was, you were, so you didn’t. Instead, you gave into every wish that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had. 

“Please, Bucky, touch me and make me feel good.”

His mouth gaped open at the words, and you felt his hands begin to move down your back, grabbing your ass as he pulled you tight against him and thrust his hips upward into you, giving you a shameful amount of pleasure. His lips attached themselves to your neck, quickly finding your pulse point and giving a harsh suck to it. You knew that was going to leave a bruise later, but you didn’t care. It felt too good to make him stop. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, doll.”

 He thrust his hips upward again and moved his lips next to your ear, his mouth so close you could hear every hitch in his breath as he ground up into you.

You reached for his shirt, frantically taking it off over his head, not caring when he winced in pain at the movement. Your hand began to wander over his chest, relishing the sight of his heaving breaths and knowing that you were the one who was making him so breathless. 

“Let me see you” he whispered, reaching for the hem of your blouse before you stopped him. 

“Ask nicely, doll” you teased, a mischievous smirk easily gracing your lips. A fire lit in his eyes as he realized exactly what you were doing. 

“Please, (y/n), I want to see you so fucking bad.” His voice was thick with need. 

Now it was your turn to stare, open mouthed, at the beautiful man in front of you as he reached for the hem of your shirt again, easily lifting it off over your head. Immediately, his hands found your breasts, pulling down your bra and beginning to roll your hard nipples between his fingers. You moaned unabashedly, loving the contrast of his warm, fleshy fingers on one nipple, and his colder, metal ones on the other. 

“Fucking perfect,” you heard him mutter quietly. “And you’re being such a good girl for me, princess.” 

His words had you grinding down on him, desperately chasing the delicious friction his bulge gave against your soaking core. You moaned and his fingers parted from your nipples. His big arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in tightly to his heaving chest. You swore you could feel his heart pounding against yours, racing as you brought your mouth up close to his ear. 

“All for you,” you whispered, giving a small, teasing lick up his ear as you did so. 

A deep, throaty groan ripped its way out of his chest, and he hugged you even closer to his body as he began to recklessly thrust up into you. You didn’t even care that neither of you had taken off your pants yet, too lost in his whimpers and moans to even venture the thought of taking yourself out of his arms to do so. 

“You feel that? How fucking hard you make me?” He groaned. 

“Fuck, Bucky-” his name had barely even passed your lips before he suddenly stopped, leaving you desperate for the same friction he had provided you just second earlier. 

“Take off your clothes,” he blurted out, fumbling for the buckle on your belt. Your hands took over where his were scrambling just seconds before, and he helped you off his lap as you wiggled out of your slacks. He began to unbuckle his pants as well, leaving you speechless as he finally revealed the full glory of his cock. Glorious was really the only way to do it justice; thick and long, his red tip gleaming with precum. Your mouth watered at the sight and your pussy clenched excitedly as you imagined how amazing he would feel balls deep inside of you. 

You sank to your knees before him, almost excited to be able to feel the weight of him in your mouth, before he grabbed your arms and brought you back up. You fixed him with what you could only imagine was a confused look (you hoped you didn’t look disappointed, although you almost were). 

“Trust me doll, I would love for your pretty lips to be wrapped around my cock, but I need you now,” he groaned. 

His hands wrapped around your waist as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around him. He carried you to the table in the back corner of the room - a small, metal table with rust covering practically the whole thing. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have touched this table with a ten foot pole (tetanus is not a fun way to go). However, with Bucky’s eyes so dark, his breathing so heavy and his cock dripping with precum - yeah, these for sure weren’t normal circumstances. He kissed you roughly as he sat you down on the table, rutting his hips against yours. The tip of his cock caught your swollen clit and you gasped, grabbing tightly to his arm. He chuckled and did it again, brushing the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. 

“What?” he questioned innocently. “Does that feel good, doll?” 

You could’ve screamed, punched him, anything. You were wound so tightly that his teasing only made you feel like you were going to spontaneously combust. Instead, however, you decided to play his game right back to him. You brought your hand up to your mouth, making eye contact with Bucky as you did so. You spit into your hand and brought your slick fingers down to where the two of you were so close to meeting, rubbing your warm spit over the tip of his cock. His breath immediately hitched, his hips bucking forward into your hand as he grabbed tight to your hips, digging his fingers in. 

“God, Buck, you’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” you teased. Almost like he did it without thinking, he wrapped his cold, metal fingers around your throat, staring intensely down into your eyes. The pressure of his hand cutting off just enough air supply made your core tingle and your breathing hitch. 

“Say please.” 

Something about this was different. Different from the teasing that you two had playfully engaged in earlier, almost… almost like he needed to hear you ask for it to know that he wasn’t taking advantage of you; that you really did want it, want him. 

Your slick hand travelled down to the base of his cock, and you guided him until he sat nestled up against your entrance, both of you hissing at the delicious feeling the contact elicited. 

“Please Bucky, I want you inside me,” you whispered. 

He swallowed thickly, bringing his forehead down to touch yours as he stared into your eyes, pushing the tip of his cock into you. 

“Say it again,” he pleaded, groaning under his breath as you repeated “please, Bucky, please,” over and over until he was completely buried in you. 

He filled you so deliciously, there was no doubt in your mind that he was reaching places that no other had ever touched before. You could already feel your walls squeezing around him, milking him for every drop of precum he could muster. 

 “Fucking amazing,” you heard Bucky whisper “you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” 

You whimpered - Bucky hadn’t moved a centimeter, and you were beginning to think that he never would. You grabbed his wrist, digging your nails in. 

“Buck, please -” you begged “please fuck me.”

It was like a switch had flipped - as soon as those words slipped past your lips, Bucky began to thrust into you like a wild animal, and you weren’t complaining. 

With every frantic thrust, the tip of his cock rubbed delightfully against your cervix, and as he pulled out, it rubbed your g-spot in such a way, it had you seeing stars. Bucky pushed you back on the table, laying his body on top of yours and attaching his lips to your collarbone. He marked a trail of small purple bruises that you knew would be a bitch to cover up later, but you didn’t care - couldn’t care. The only thought consuming your entire mind at this moment was Bucky. 

 “You take me so fucking well, princess.”

If it was possible, you were pretty sure you got even wetter at his words. 

“Does it feel good when I fuck you hard like this? My hand wrapped around your throat and my cock deep inside your pussy?” he questioned.

YES, your mind was screaming, but the only thing that came out of your mouth was a series of moans and gasps. You’re pretty sure he got the message anyway. 

“Touch yourself for me, doll.”

And without even a shadow of a second thought, you did, bringing your fingers down to your clit and rubbing so furiously that you probably could’ve started a fire. 

“Just like that, princess, so fucking good for me.” 

He grabbed your legs and raised them up to rest on his hips, the new angle setting your skin on fire. He thrust even deeper into you with each stroke, making it hard for comprehensible thoughts to form. 

“You like it when I take you nice and hard, huh? I can feel the way your fucking cunt is milking me, princess.” As if on cue, your walls spasmed around him, bringing you right to the glorious edge of your orgasm. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” you groaned, waiting for him to give you permission to cream all over his beautiful cock. 

“That’s right, doll. Fucking cum all over my cock, princess. Make it nice and fucking messy.”

Your orgasm came rushing over you like a tidal wave, making white hot stars dance behind your eyelids. The aftershocks kept you moaning breathlessly as Bucky kept pounding deep inside you. 

“I’m so fucking close, princess.” Bucky groaned. “Say my name, please say my name, doll.” 

You chanted his name like a prayer, intermixed with a chorus of please and fuck until he pulled out of you and sprayed hot, sticky cum all over your stomach. 

Bucky quickly collapsed next to you, breathing heavily. The both of you laid there for god knows how long, catching your breath and letting the afterglow wash over you. As you began to form coherent thoughts again, a nagging voice kept making its way to your forethought. 

What. The. Fuck. Did you just do?

________________________________

A/N: somewhat quick turnaround on this chapter, but I’ve had it written forever so I just had to edit it. Please forgive any plot holes and also I’m sorry that the fighting scenes are kinda clunky but I'm still getting used to writing them. gonna try and get pt 4 out in a couple days but I’m still healing from Red TV so... THIS PART HAS SMUT, MINORS DNI! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! (also forgive my pathological overuse of italics)

[walkerwords]

“Hey Brother” Carl Grimes & Sister!Reader

GIF CREDIT: @thetruthwecanthandlee​

REQUEST: From anonymous: “Hello! Just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to request a Carl x platonic reader where the reader is either his older sister or his close friend and she intervenes when he's about to be bitten, saving his life. You can decide if the reader dies as a result or not, I just think Carl deserved better than he got. If you don't feel like writing this, no worries!”

Word Count: 2748

Warning: Swearing, Angst

Song I Wrote To: “Hey Brother” by Avicii

Note: Carl is not someone who I generally write, but I do like Chandler and the character so I am giving it a shot! 

----------

Even after years of being out in the world riddled with the Dead, you never got used to the groans of Walkers. 

Stepping over one rotten corpse, you encountered another. You held your weapon in your hand, an old fire ax you had found in Woodbury when rescuing Daryl and Merle. Being a firefighter was something you once really wanted. However, when the world ends, becoming a civil servant becomes impossible. Still, being able to wield the equipment did put a smile on your face most days. 

As the Walker approached, you jabbed the crowbar end of the fire ax into its skull. Kicking it away, you continued moving the woods that surrounded Alexandria in search of your brother, Carl. When the turn happened, you had been with Carl and his mother, Lori. Your dad was in the hospital after being shot on the job and you had come home from college to help Lori with your younger brother. 

You and Lori had never gotten along and you didn’t know if that was because she never liked your mother, Dianne, or because Rick had tried everything to keep you in his life. Regardless of what Lori Grimes thought, you weren’t going to let anything happen to Carl and you had kept the promise. 

Even now. 

When Rosita told you that she had seen Carl leaving Alexandria earlier, you had grabbed your weapon and went in search of him. Right now was not the time for him to be out beyond the walls. Not when Negan and the Saviors could show up at any moment and make another move against you and your allies. With Rick and Michonne out in the world as well and Daryl being difficult, you had to be the one to drag Carl’s ass back home.

Negan was a headache for you, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t the worst thing out there. When he had killed Glenn and Abraham, you hadn’t been there. You had been with Tara and Heath, searching for supplies. After finding Oceanside and losing Heath, you had arrived home with Tara to a grieving family and a missing Daryl. 

The first time you had met Negan, Carl had almost shot two of his Saviors. You had arrived just in time to grab the gun from him before he could. That was when Rick introduced you to Negan and he had offered you his hand. Not wanting to piss him off any further, you had shaken his hand, squeezing a bit too hard. He had seemed amused by you, but also wary. Growing up on the streets of Atlanta, you knew how to survive and you also knew how to deal with power-hungry men. Negan concerned you, but you weren’t afraid of him. 

Carl, however, had another opinion. At first, the teenager wanted nothing more than to fill the man with bullets, but after his outing to the Sanctuary, he seemed to have a change of heart. Carl had come to you only a few days earlier and proposed an idea of a truce. He didn’t think the fighting was going to stop any time soon and while you agreed, you knew Negan would never agree to it. The war would only end when either he or your father was dead. 

When you had told Carl this, he had stormed off annoyed. As the older sibling it was your job to tell him how the world worked and when it came to men like Negan, you either had to kill him or appeal to a new side. That was where your plan came to mind, but you knew that Carl would never go for it. 

You didn’t even want to know what your father would think about it if it came up in conversation. However, for now, you had to focus on finding the kid before he did something even more stupid considering the last time he had gone off, he had attacked the loading dock of the Sanctuary with a rifle. 

Shouldering your ax, you picked up the pace a bit. 

“Carl!” you yelled, hearing your voice echo off the trees. “Carl!” 

The woods answered with silence and you could feel the anxiety growing in your gut as you searched. Climbing up another small hill, you finally heard a commotion in the distance. Not knowing what you were running towards, you sprinted through the dying land. Nearly tripping on roots and downed Walkers, you came across a scene that made the air fly from your chest. 

Carl was on the ground as Walkers pinned him down. There was another man nearby, exhausted and trying to get to his feet. Charging forward, you swung the ax, taking off the head of the Walkers closest to Carl. Another grabbed you, baring its teeth and you slammed your boot down on its jaw, separating it from its head. A third Walker then grabbed you and took you to the ground. Shoving your arm under its chin, you managed to get enough leverage to push it off. Your shirt sleeve tore from the force and then blood sprayed you as you pierced its skull with the steel weapon. 

Laying there for a second, you turned to look at your brother who was looking over at himself in worry. “You good?” you asked, your eyes also scanning his body for cuts or bites. 

“All in one piece,” he said with a relieved sigh. “You?”

“Pissed that I just washed these jeans,” you said with a huff as you sat up, pushing the corpse off your legs. Getting to your feet, you offered your hand to Carl who took it and stood up with your assistance. “Who’s this?” you asked, gesturing to the timid man. 

“Siddiq,” Carl said. “He needs our help.” Sighing, you glanced between your brother and the newcomer. 

“Carl, we shouldn’t be taking in strays when we are at war,” you said, needing him to understand. 

“Since when did we stop helping people? I thought that was what this place was all about,” he argued. 

“Last time we helped people, they sent us into a lion’s den that eventually pissed off the leader of the Saviors. We have to be careful and you know it.” 

“I’m not okay with just turning the other way anymore,” he said. 

“Carl…” you began, but he wasn’t done. 

“Aaron helped us!” Carl said. “He brought us here and he saved us when we were starving and on the road. Jesus helped us when we needed food, Ezekiel, too! We took in people at the prison and even helped Gabriel when nobody wanted to. We help people, that is what we do.” 

Looking at him, you started to see more of your father in him by the moment. When he was younger, all you could see was Lori, but in the new world and as he matured, he was beginning to act and look more like your father every day. 

The looks weren’t the only thing that he had from Rick, he also had his heart and while your father’s head was a bit all over the place at the moment, you knew that he had always stood by the fact that people were needed for survival. 

“You’re right,” you said and then took off your canteen from your belt and offered it to Siddiq who took it timidly. Carl nodded to him and he began to drink the cool water. Letting him recuperate, you turned back to your brother. “I know you want to help people, but going off on your own right now is suicide.”

“Because of Negan?” Carl asked and then shook his head. “He would never hurt me.”

“How are you so sure about that, huh?”

“Because he has had lots of opportunities and he’s never done it. He just likes to piss me off and make jabs, but he won't kill him.” 

“Negan may not be the one to worry about. I’m sure there are plenty of Saviors out there that would love to see Rick’s son on a pike.” Carl frowned at that. “Look, just think before you do or you’re going to end up dead and you’re going to be taking down any new friends with you,” you said, pointing to Siddiq. 

“I don’t want to hear this,” Carl said, turning away. 

“I have an idea that may sway Negan,” you said and he paused, turning back to look at you. “Though, you and Dad may hate it. Well, I know for a fact you’re going to hate it.” Carl furrowed his brow as he looked at you, trying to see where your head was at. Then, he remembered the comments Negan made about you when he first met you and the jokes he said in front of Amber and Sherry when he went to the Sanctuary. 

“No,” Carl said quickly. 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you challenged. 

“You want to marry him,” Carl said and you sighed, hating how well he knew you. 

“I don’t want to do anything, Carl,” you said. “But yes, that was the idea.” 

“No,” he said again. 

“It would work,” you said with a shrug. 

“Bullshit,” he countered. “We don’t even know if he’d even want that and then what? You basically sell yourself for a ceasefire that’s not guaranteed to even happen. Then you’d be a damn prisoner in that place.”

“Daryl got out, so can I,” you argued. 

“He got out only after one of Negan’s wives felt she owed Daryl! This is the most ridiculous plan you have ever had!” he shouted at you. Siddiq had taken a few paces back to give you and your brother some room to talk, but he was looking more nervous every time one of you went up an octave. 

“This is my decision, Carl,” you said, lowering your volume a bit. 

“What would Mom think?” Carl said, crossing his arms. His eyes were boring into yours, almost pleading. With a shrug, you brushed off his question. 

“Your mother never fucking liked me,” you said with a scoff. 

“She treated you like you were one of her own, especially after the Turn.” 

“No, she didn’t,” you disagreed, “and I’m not. I am not her daughter, but I am still yours and Judith’s sister and Dad’s daughter. It is my job to keep this family safe and if marrying Negan is the way to do it, then so be it!” 

“Who says it's your job to be a martyr?”

“Me,” you argued, sounding very much like Dianne. 

“And you think Negan will keep you safe?” he asked, throwing his hands up. 

“He has to have some kind of honor, right?” you asked, thinking of the broad-chested man with a habit for bloodshed. 

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who says I do?” you asked. “Carl, I don’t want to do it, but if it stops more people from dying then isn’t it worth it?”

“You have already made too many sacrifices for this family,” he said, his tone softer. “Ever since the world turned, you have been putting yourself in danger. You were the one who stopped Shane from going after Andrea on the farm when he was going crazy; You were the one who exchanged yourself for Maggie with the Governor; You were the one who tried to take Noah’s place at Grady trying to save Beth; You were the one who nearly died trying to get Cyndie to work with us in the war. When are you going to stop trying to fix everything and start looking out for yourself?”

“Says the one who hitched a ride into the Sanctuary and went all Al Capone on Negan’s men,” you reminded him. 

“I was angry,” he rationalized.

“And you don’t think I’m not? I’m furious! When I found out what he did to Glenn and Abraham, I couldn’t breathe. Then the way he gutted Monroe in the street as if he was nothing more than a sack of meat? Fuck, Carl, I have never felt more anger towards anyone.”

“Because he’s killed people?” 

“What? No, not because he’s killed people, we’ve all killed people. I’m angry at Negan because he made me realize that this is how humanity is now. I was happy to keep believing that we could get back to who we used to be, but let’s fucking face it, humans have never been saints. Negan proved that to me.”

“And yet you want to marry him?”

“I want to stop him from killing more of us! I want the damn fighting to stop and if there is even a chance that it does with both him and Dad alive, it’s worth it because if I’m being honest, Carl, I don’t see us winning this war.” 

“You have to have faith,” he said and you snorted. 

“I stopped having faith the day the fire fell on my city,” you said. 

“I’m willing to fight him,” Carl said, stepping closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to be the only one to make sacrifices.”

“But I can’t let you,” you whispered. “Judith needs you, Carl. She needs you alive and fighting for her future.”

“She needs both of us,” he urged. “When I was growing up, you were a hero to me. All I wanted to be was like my big sister and I know now that to do that, I have to tell you when it's time to stop taking on the world alone. When the prison fell and we lost you, I thought I’d never see you again. When we found you with Maggie, I promised I would never let you go again. Don’t make me break that promise, please.”

“Carl, stop,” you said, running a hand over his face, just below his bandage. “You’re giving me way too much credit, kid.”

“You deserve it,” he said. “You’ve never let me down, but if you go with him, you will. We’re Grimes, and that means we don’t take shit from anyone. Alright?” With a deep breath, you swallowed thickly, looking at your baby brother for a moment, trying to take in his newfound resilience and courage. It warmed your heart. 

“I was going to say that it’s your time to step up as the older sibling, but it looks like you already have,” you said through a thick voice. Carl rolled his eye. 

“Shut up,” he said as he tugged you into a hug. You wrapped your arm around him, clutching him close to you. 

“I love you, Carl,” you whispered in his ear. 

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” he said. “And don’t start thinking you're out of a job just yet just because I stopped taking orders from you. I’m happy with being the middle child for now.” Pulling back, you nodded to him, adjusting the brim of his hat. 

“Fair enough,” you said, wiping at invisible tears on your face. Finally realizing Siddiq was still standing around, you snapped out of your thoughts. “You should take him back home,” you said with an awkward cough. “He does need help and we should do it, you’re right. As always.” 

“You’re coming too?”

“In a bit, I’m going to do a final sweep, just in case anyone else is lurking around,” you said and he nodded, picking up his gun that had fallen when he was accosted by the Dead. 

“Come on, man,” Carl called to Siddiq. “Hey!” he called to you as you turned toward the South. “No, Negan,” he said, his face pleading. 

“I won’t,” you said with a sigh. “I promise you.” Carl smiled at you softly, happy with your answer. Carl helped Siddiq as they headed back to Alexandria. You watched him walk away until the trees swallowed up the pair. 

The lump in your throat was suffocating as you struggled to stay on your feet. Carl was right, Grimes never gave up, but sometimes they didn’t have a choice. With a shaky breath, you pushed up the sleeve of your right hand, the one that the Walker had torn. Through fresh blood, you could make out a double crescent shape wound in the tanned flesh of your arm. 

The bite was burning as blood streamed down your arm and dripped off your fingers. Repressing the urge to scream in sorrow, you tugged your sleeve back down and with glistening eyes, looked back towards Alexandria.

“I’m sorry, little brother.”

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @yes-sir-hotchner​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ @huffledor-able541​ 

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Honestly one of my favorites

Word Count: 3040

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and blood

————————————

Chapter 6: The Best of the Best

For what seemed like the hundredth time, the video footage of Grace standing by as Reginald writhed in his bed flashed before (Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes, along with the eyes of her siblings who stood beside her. Though the evidence stood true and before her, her gut was begging her not to believe what she saw. Swallowing, she tuned in to hear what Vanya had to say, “I mean, do you really think Mom would hurt Dad?”

“You haven’t been home in a long time, Vanya,” Luther turned away from the television to his sister. “Maybe you don’t know Grace anymore.”

“If he was poisoned, it would have shown in the coroner’s report.” Diego stated matter-of-factly, (Y/N) nodding in agreement. But Luther hadn’t been so easily convinced.

“Well, I don’t need a report to tell me what I can see with my own eyes.”

“Then your vision’s fucked, dingus,” (Y/N) moved closer to the television, clicking a button to rewind. “Look. Dad has the monocle on, then Mom stands up, the monocle is gone.”

“Oh, yeah!” Klaus chuckled, the clone from earlier still standing at his side. Diego walked away from the television.

“She wasn’t poisoning him. She was… taking it. To clean it.” He guessed. Everyone’s bodies turned towards their vigilante brother, Luther in disbelief.

“Then where is it? No, I’ve searched the house, including all her things. She doesn’t have it.” A moment of silence passed before Diego raised his hand.

“That’s because I took it from her. After the funeral.”

“You’ve had the monocle this whole time? What the hell, Diego?!” Allison leaned away from the pillar she was against. Luther stuck his hand out immediately, demanding Diego give the monocle to him.

“I threw it away.”

“You… what?” Luther blinked as Allison scoffed, going for a drink from her glass. (Y/N) rubbed her temples as Diego explained himself,

“Look, I knew that if you found it on Mom, you’d lose your shit, just like you’re doing right now.”

“Diego, you son of a bitch.” Luther took a couple threatening steps forward as Diego got into a fighting stance. (Y/N) and Vanya immediately got in between the two of them, halting both their actions.

“Hey. No. Calm down. Look, I know Dad wasn’t exactly an open book. But I do remember one thing he said. Mom was, well, designed to be a caretaker, but… also as a protector.”

“Oh, yeah,” (Y/N) slowly nodded in realization. “She was programmed to intervene if someone’s life was in danger.”

“Well, if her hardware is degrading, then… We need to turn her off.”

“Luther!-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait,” Diego’s voice rose in panic and anger. “She’s not just a vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet! She feels things, I’ve seen it!”

“She just stood there, Diego, and watched our father die.”

“I’m with Luther.” Allison shrugged.

“Surprise, surprise.” Diego muttered.

“Shut up.” She shot back as (Y/N) crossed her arms.

“Well, I’m with Diego.” She voiced her opinion, her brother gratefully smiling at her. She returned the expression as Luther scoffed.

“And what does your opinion matter? The moment you moved out, you went and found the woman who gave you up the moment you were born-”

“Don’t you ever, ever, speak about my mother that way!” She boomed as she pointed a finger at him. “That woman has done more for me than I’ve ever asked of her and has supported me through everything I’ve done since I left this shithole! You have no right to give your fucking opinion on her! Even with that said, Grace is my mother as well and I will treat her as such. We were all raised by her, so my opinion matters just as much as yours, Apeman.” When she stepped back, Diego rested his hands on her shoulders from behind to steady her. Luther only stared at her in shock, not expecting her to blow up at him. Backing down, he turned to Vanya, as well as everyone else, to hear her opinion. The woman looked between her siblings, stammering out her answer before Diego interrupted her,

“Yeah, she shouldn’t get a vote.” He removed his hands from (Y/N) and moved away from them. She and Luther were going to start yet another argument between them when Vanya finally gained some confidence.

“I was gonna say that I agree with you.”

“Okay! She should get a vote,” He concluded before turning to Klaus, who leaned against another pillar. “What about you, stoner boy? What do you got?” Klaus looked up at them with raised brows.

“Oh, so, what? You need my help now? Oh, ‘Get out of the van, Klaus!’ ‘Well, welcome back to the van!’.”

“What van?” Allison questioned, clearly not understanding the situation that happened earlier. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at her druggie brother as Luther scoffed.

“What’s it gonna be, Klaus?”

“I’m with Diego, because screw you!” He furrowed his brows as Diego pointed at him, pleased that he and his brother agreed on something. “And if Ben were here, he’d agree with me.” A second afterwards, he hissed at the air beside him, (Y/N) guessing that Ben had disagreed with Klaus, but she wasn’t going to voice that. She sighed and turned to Luther.

“That’s three, Spaceboy-”

“Wait-”

“To two.” Diego finished, holding the numbers up with his fingers.

“It’s not final. Five’s not here.” Allison pointed out and (Y/N) sighed. He wouldn’t be here to give his say on the matter, anyway. Diego groaned.

“Oh, come on, he’d just agree with whatever (Y/N) has to say.” He motioned toward Number Eight, who bristled to argue with him.

“No, everyone in the family gets to vote. We owe each other that.” Allison shook her head as Luther and Vanya agreed with her. They all left the room, minus Diego, who stayed with a look of defeat. (Y/N) pat his shoulder as she left. She truly didn’t want Grace to be shut off. Granted, it was suspicious that she watched Reginald die without acting on it, but she would never hurt anyone. She showed the most care to them as kids and she couldn’t disregard that for anything.

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As the night washed over the sky, (Y/N) found that she would not have been much use to Five. When she left the Academy to join him, she saw that he still sat in that van, still watching that building. As much as she had begged to help, she was slowly starting to realize that Five wasn’t letting her in on everything. She knew he hadn’t been lying about the apocalypse, but she wished he would’ve told her whatever else he was in on. She felt horrible about it, but without even alerting him of her presence, she left him and arrived back at the mansion. As she wandered, she still felt tension between her siblings, and decided that it would be best not to interact with them for now. However, she felt a tug pulling her towards the bathroom. This familiar tug was what alerted her of her clones’ presence nearby. She followed the pull and peeked inside to see Klaus taking a bubble bath, her clone still watching over him. She quietly giggled at the sight, startling her brother and causing him to sit up quickly, some water splashing over the tub and onto the floor.

“Christ, (Y/N)! Don’t scare me like that!”

“You okay?” She whispered, side-eyeing her clone. Klaus sighed and relaxed once again.

“Yes, dear. Now can you take your robot with you? It’s been following me around for hours!”

“No, I still want it to make sure you don’t die. It’ll help if you, uh… drown or something,” She grinned before leaving the room, ignoring Klaus’ calls to her. As she continued to wander around, she found Diego, who seemed to be in deep thought. When he caught sight of his sister, his tense posture relaxed before he went to stand at her side. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Just thinkin’,” He answered. “About what you said about Mom… how she raised us all and cared for us… makes me wonder how Luther could just choose her over Dad…” He shook his head and clenched his jaw. (Y/N) surveyed his expression, gently nudging him.

“I just don’t think Luther has much of an emotional connection with Mom… Not like you do,” He turned to her with a questioning gaze. “Oh, come on, Diego. You are a Mama’s Boy and you know it. But it’s not a bad thing! It’s not like Dad gave a shit about her. It’s good that someone checks up on her and actually takes her thoughts and emotions into consideration. You have no idea how good it feels to hear your kids ask how you’re doing.” The two shared a soft chuckle as they headed towards the rooms again. They halted their steps, however, when they heard guns cocking. Slowly turning in the direction it came from, they saw two people in suits and creepy kids’ masks pointing guns at them, ready to shoot.

“Shit. Go, go!” Diego pushed (Y/N) forward, the two bolting down the hallway as gunshots zoomed past them. Right as Diego launched his knives and hit the intruders, a bullet grazed (Y/N)’s right outer thigh. She cried out in pain and nearly fell if it hadn’t been for Diego catching her. Without a second thought, he lifted her onto his back and ran further down the hall, swiftly swinging around a corner and hiding the best he could. As gently as possible, he set (Y/N) down to her feet, the girl holding in a wince as she supported herself on the wall.

The sound of footsteps echoed and increased in volume. Just when they were right beside the two, Diego jumped out of their hiding place and attacked the taller intruder with his knife. (Y/N) heard him call out for his partner to shoot, but they couldn’t get a clear shot of Diego, not being able to see (Y/N) from where they were. Diego kicked his opponent against the wall before taking off down the hall, but not before grabbing his sister. She tried to ignore the throbbing in her leg as they ran just above the parlor. Without warning, Diego wrapped his arms around her and threw them off the bannister, landing on the couch in the parlor. Since he had broken her fall, her body nearly knocked the wind out of him, but he didn’t let himself recover. He jumped off of the couch with (Y/N) and hid behind a table. Once his arms were removed from her frame, she tried to stop the bleeding in her leg by pressing down on her wound. Diego placed his own hand down over hers, eyes moving around frantically before they landed on the portrait of Reginald on the wall across from them, bullets lodged into his face.

Footsteps approached the parlor and his head snapped in their direction. “(Y/N), stay here.” He whispered right beside her ear. She looked up and shook her head.

“No, I wanna help-”

“Do not help. Stay fucking here.” He violently hissed before starting to shuffle away, but he didn’t get very far, for bullets started flying towards them. Diego quickly wrapped his arms around his sister again and threw them down to the floor, his body curling over hers. The bullets stopped and they heard fighting, (Y/N) recognizing Allison’s grunts. Diego moved himself from his sister and allowed her to climb onto his back again. She whimpered as she willed herself to move and wrap her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. When Diego stood, the two intruders had been thrown out of the room by Luther. Allison whirled towards Diego with wide eyes.

“Who the hell are these guys?! (Y/N), did they hurt you?!”

“Yeah, kinda…” She sighed as Luther turned to them.

“You’re welcome.” His words made (Y/N) groan as Diego shifted her on his back.

“I was doing fine!”

“Oh, yeah, you really had them-”

“(Y/N) is fucking hurt, what the hell did you want me-” Diego stopped talking when the intruders started shooting once again, everyone ducking down. In his haste, (Y/N) had fallen off his back and landed on the ground. She started to do an army crawl out of the room along with her brother, who yelled for Luther and Allison to go. When the two were on their feet again, Diego grabbed her hand and continued to run, the intruders heading to the opposite direction. “We need to get you to a safe place!”

“Nowhere is really safe at this point!” (Y/N) let him drag her wherever. He eventually stopped and turned her towards him. Sweat covered her forehead and blood seeped through her pants. Her eyes met his, full of concern. She shook her head and shakily sung her tune, her clone appearing beside them. Hating the order she was about to give, she clenched her teeth. “Protect me,” Immediately, the clone went to attack Diego, but (Y/N) stopped it, climbing onto its back. “Follow Diego.”

Just as the three headed towards the basement, where the shorter of the intruders had followed Allison, Klaus had been dancing around the house, completely unaware of the threat around him due to the headphones he wore. (Y/N)’s clone from earlier simply followed, standing to cover him if any bullets came near. When the three entered the basement, they saw that Allison had just been struck and was now leaning over the pool table, her lip bleeding. “You wanna rumor this psycho?” Diego questioned, Allison wiping her lip.

“I don’t need to, because this bitch just pissed me off.” She spit before turning to the woman.

“We just want the boy.” She tried to explain before Allison attacked her. Five… These bastards are looking for Five… (Y/N) thought. That information alone made her blood boil. She hopped off her clone’s back just as Allison was kicked to the ground by the intruder. Diego whistled as he approached her, the two starting their own fight. Following its second order, the clone stepped forward to follow Diego, but turned back to the stumbling (Y/N). It was confused, and she could tell. (Y/N) quietly cursed before commanding it to help her fight. The intruder broke away from Diego and Allison and headed towards (Y/N) and her lookalike. Number Eight smirked and grabbed her clone by the hand, using all her strength to swing it around. It used its legs to kick off the wall and then the woman in her chest, causing her to fall to the ground with an “oomph!”. The clone, after landing on its feet, steadied (Y/N) by her arms. This gave the intruder time to stand and make her way out of the room, but not before Diego launched, what (Y/N) could only tell as something sharp, into her leg. She cried out in pain, but continued up the stairs. The four followed her not too long afterwards, but lost her once they were at the top. (Y/N) whimpered again and hummed her second tune, the clone disappearing.

“You good?” Diego held onto her, receiving a nod in answer.

When the three made their way to the entrance, Allison cried out to Luther, who was laying on the ground in pain. (Y/N) wanted to join the two in helping him up, but her strength was wearing out, so she leaned against the wall. Looking up, she saw the female intruder going to mess with the chandelier. Luther had noticed at the same time, for they both called out for their siblings to watch out. Luther pushed Diego and Allison out of the way, allowing it to land on him. (Y/N) slumped to the floor as her breathing got shallow. She could only hope Luther had been safe before she blacked out, but not before she sang her three-note tune almost silently.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) awoke to a sharp pain in her leg. She almost shot up, but felt a hand on the flat of her chest. It was Allison. “H-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sis. Just patching your leg up…”

“W-Who?” (Y/N) turned her head to see her clone, silently stitching up her leg. She let out a breath and relaxed against the cushions of the couch she was laying on. She turned her head to Vanya, who was nursing her own bleeding head with a rag. “Shit, Vanya, I didn’t even know you were here. You okay?” She received a nod from her sister before she heard footsteps. Diego walked in, his breathing shaky. Vanya looked up and called out to him softly. He turned to her with a cold stare.

“What are you still doing here?”

“I’m just trying to help-”

“No, you could’ve been killed! Or got any of us killed. Shit, we’re lucky (Y/N) didn’t die from blood loss!” He yelled before leaning closer to Allison. “She is a liability.” He muttered before heading towards (Y/N). Kneeling in front of her, he watched her face scrunch up in pain as the clone lifted her leg slightly to wrap it up. She reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m okay, don’t worry…”

“I told you not to help.” He slightly growled and held the hand on his shoulder. Past the growl, (Y/N) detected a whimper. Looking into his eyes, she felt the pain in his stare. Only it was a type of pain she knew all too well.

“Diego, what happened…?” She whispered just as she saw Vanya stand from the corner of her eye. She and her brother turned and watched her leave.

“Vanya, wait.” Allison tried to rush after their sister, but Diego told her to just let Vanya go, that it was for the best. (Y/N) heavily sighed and let her head fall back against the cushions. She hoped Five was doing fine, wherever he was.

————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya

[mercurysstars]

All That Glitters Is Not Gold (part 3)

Summary: Y/n gets hired to be the avengers chief physician and also happens to be an ex assassin.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: blood

𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺,

𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺.

_

Peter nods his head along to the beats of his music. He moves his hands around pretending to play the air drums. The ding of the elevator signals him to get off. He pulls out his headphones and stuffs them in his pocket. The moment his headphones are off he hears two muffled voices.

"Tony you know why I can't, we've gone over this." A feminine-sounding voice said.

"It's doesn't make sense! You're the best combat fighter I know!" A voice that sounded like Tony's exclaimed.

That sparked Peter's interest, he tiptoed closer to the med bay trying to stay quiet. He peaked only his head into the room. He watched as Tony and some girl argue.

"If you won't join will you at least move in? I just want to know that you're safe and I can't do that when you're in Hell's Kitchen." Tony pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'll think about it." The woman says as she organized papers on the desk in front of her.

Peter clears his throat and walks into the room. Tony and the woman both looked at him and she smiled.

"Hey, Mr. Stark you asked me to come?." Peter stammers nervously.

"Oh yeah come here kid, Peter this is Y/n our new doctor, Y/n this is Peter Parker." Tony introduced them.

Y/n stands up and straightens out her pants. She walked over to Peter "Nice to meet you, Mr. Parker." She gives a friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you too Dr. Y/n."

Peter wiped his hand on his shirt and stuck it out, Y/n grabbed his hand and shook it.

"If you ever need anything or have any questions, come talk to me anytime." She grinned.

Peter felt his phone vibrate, he grabbed it out and checked it.

"Thank you I will, I have to go tho there's a store getting robbed and people that need saving." Peter turned while waving.

Y/n waved back and chuckled. She turned back over to Tony "He's a sweet kid."

"Yeah, he is." Tony breathed.

_

Y/n twirls her pen between her fingers, she was bored out of her mind filling out paperwork. After Tony left earlier she decided to tackle the piles of forms left in the closet in her office. Bouncing her leg up and down, checking yes and no, she was sure she was going to go crazy.

Being a doctor for the Avengers was not was what she expected. Y/n expected to be running all over the place with no moment of rest, but in reality, she did PT, gave a couple of people refills for painkillers, and filled out paperwork like an underpaid secretary. Sure this was her first real physician position unless you could count stitching up your own gun wounds, or other shady people as a job.

A knock at the door startled Y/n out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Bucky leaning against the door, arms crossed with a light friendly expression on his face. Her face lit up and she dropped her pen.

"Hey doc you look busy there, we can always cancel for the day," Bucky remarked.

"We wouldn't want to do that Buck, who else would work you out?" Y/n grinned while she wiggled her eyebrows suggesting.

"I have an idea or two," Bucky smirked back.

"I don't know if Sam or Steve would particularly enjoy that."

Bucky scrunched up his face in distaste and immediately shook his head to get rid of the thought. Y/n chuckled and got up from where she once sat.

Y/n grabbed a plastic container off the shelf full of equipment labeled 'shoulder'. She also grabbed the athletic tape and her iPad. She nodded toward Bucky and they walked to the training room.

They walked into a room that was filled with treadmills, weights, mirrors, and other training equipment. Sunlight from the window bounced off the white walls that weren't filled with posters. She gestured Bucky over to a bench and pressed down on his left shoulder.

"Sit." She demanded and he was obligated.

Y/n rolled up his sleeve and began to tape his shoulder. "Why are you doing that?" He questioned.

"Since today is your last day, we are going to work with weights, and taping your shoulder should help with the pressure." Bucky gave an understanding look and she fixed his sleeve.

"Alright, we're going to start off light." She grabbed a 20lb weight and handed it to Bucky.

His eyebrow arched and he looked at Y/n  "That's starting off light?"

"Oh come on, with all the chemicals running through those veins you won't even break a sweat." She teased.

"I don't know why I come to these sessions if you're just going to bully me." Bucky huffed.

Y/n threw her hands up in mock surrender "Sorry."

She grabbed her iPad and began to type, Y/n looked up to see Bucky eyeing her. "What are you looking at big boy, start lifting."

She lifted her hand to her chest and back down as an example. He rolled his eyes but then did what he was told.

_

"I had a sister Rebecca, you would have liked her sweet girl, fiery spirit. I'm pretty sure she had a crush on Stevie at one point. She used to say we were the most intolerable boys on the planet." Bucky had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Y/n asked with a smile. She liked seeing Bucky like this, happy, playful, she had only known him for a handful of days but they have been spending a lot of time together with PT, and usually, after they spend time laughing and joking around. Tho she liked him dark and brooding nothing compares to his smile.

Nothing compares to his smil- what the hell am I thinking? She asks herself in a reprimanding tone. This is her patient, one that she's supposed to be helping. Not to mention that he's old enough to be her grandfather. Well, mentally he's probably around 29-30. Another voice says in her head.

"Yeah." He grinned fondly.

"Alright now roll your shoulder forward-"

The sound of the window opening caused her to stop mid-sentence. She gripped the metal water bottle in her hand a little tighter, ready to swing it at the intruder.

She whipped her head around to see a bloody Peter Parker swaying back and forth in a Spider-Man suit with his mask in his hand. She rushed over to him, she grabbed him by his shoulders to steady him.

"Peter are you okay? What happened?" She questioned scanning his face for other injuries.

"I'm fine, just a little light-headed." As soon as the words left his mouth he collapsed into her arms. Y/n looked over to Bucky for assistance.

Together they dragged Peter to the main part of the med-bag and laid him on a bed. She began to hook him up to an IV and heart monitor. She glanced over to Bucky to see him looking over at her helplessly.

"Can you tell Tony he's in here with me?" Y/ n asked Bucky while filling the IV with liquid. He looked back at Peter and nodded.

_

Peter groaned and sat up rubbing his head. He looked over to see Y/n scribbling something on a piece of paper.

"What happened." He asked in a groggy voice.

Y/n's eyes shot over to him, she smiled and fully turned. She clicked her pen, attached it to the clipboard, set it down, and walked over to him.

"Good you're awake, you came in through the window like a couple of hours ago and just passed out. Tony came in not too long ago to see you."

"Oh yeah sorry about that I saw you and Mr. Barnes through the window and thought that I might as well go through there." He breathed.

"Don't worry about it." That was all she said in response.

Y/n looked at his arm to see blood bleeding through the bandages. She took them off and trashed them. She cleaned them off and rewrapped them. Peter watched as she repeated those steps several times for his other cuts.

"You can ask you know." She wrapped the last stitch and rubbed her forehead with her arm.

Peter instantly flushed "ask what?"

She chuckled "I heard you out there, in the hallway." That was the truth. Y/n did hear him in the hallway, she also heard the elevator open and the music he was listening to on the way up.

"I'm sorry?" His statement sounded more as though it was a question.

She once again laughed and shook her head at the boy's antics. He was too young and too pure for this terrible world. He hands hopeful eyes, and there is nothing like a child's hope. Hope is the companion of power, mother of success, hope is seeing the light despite being surrounded by darkness. Hope is the last thing ever lost, and without hope, you can't live.

"What did Tony mean when he said the best fighter he knows." Peter hesitantly asked.

"Oh, he probably meant because I was an assassin." Y/n shrugged nonchalantly.

"WHAT?! ASSASSIN?! Why didn't you tell everyone?" He stammers over his sentence. Who knew? Did Tony know? Is she better than Natasha? Is she better than the Winter Soldier? He had so many questions running through his head.

"Don't ask don't tell." She smiled at Peter getting frustrated at her vague answers.

"That's so cool! How good of a fighter are you? Can you do a flip? Do you have any more cool deadly fighter friends? Can you speak different languages?" Words were shooting out of his mouth like rapid fire.

"Thank, I'm decent, yes, lots of them, a few." She answered his questions as they came, amused to no end. Peter looked at her as though she was a gift from the gods themselves.

Part 4

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: You like it rough and thankfully, he shares that passion.

Warnings: Smut, Dirty Talk, Gun kink, Unprotected Sex

Available on: AO3

A/N: You asked for it, you’re getting it. Straight up PWP because we all know JJ has a gun kink. Enjoy!

“I’ll kill him!” JJ yelled when he ran inside his house while you were following him with the hope to calm him down.

“You’re overreacting. He’s just a douche, forget about him,” you tried to argue but you already knew that he wouldn’t listen. He was in one of his dangerous states right now.

Jaw clenched, hands balled into a fist, angry steps and stormy eyes. He was mad. More than mad.

The two of you had been together for a while now, still keeping it a secret from your friends and especially your family. Your parents were Kooks and they wouldn’t approve. Not that you would give a single fuck about their opinion. You were in love with this angry boy in front of you and nothing would be able to tear you apart.

“How am I supposed to forget about him when I know he touched you, (y/n)?!” he yelled at you while rummaging through his things, apparently looking for something.

You had told him that Rafe had felt you up earlier, it had been an act to keep your parents please but apparently JJ was missing that part. It had felt wrong to keep it a secret so you told him. You told him everything, lying to your friends was bad enough.

“It’s partly my fault for letting him. Nothing to get so worked up over,” you replied and sighed, feeling how you got slowly mad at him for overreacting so much.

Yes, Rafe was a douche and not worth a single second of your time but flirting with him would get your family higher up in the invisible ranks of the Kook world. So you did what you had to but in the end of the day, you’d be back in JJ’s arms.

“God, don’t say that.” The deep growl that came out of this throat made you rub your legs together and you swallowed when you saw him coming towards you with the gun in his hand.

His whole body was so tense and his breathing was heavy. You didn’t doubt for a second that he would be able to shoot someone in the face while he was this angry.

“I’ll fucking kill him. No one touches my girl!”  he growled but you stepped in his way, crossing the arms over your chest and blocking his way.

He raised a confused eyebrow at you and you saw how he swallowed hard, taking all his willpower to not leash out on you too.

“Let me through, for fucks sake. I’m just trying to help you here!” He seemed to think you wouldn’t understand but you did. You understood him well enough which was exactly why you wouldn’t let him through here.

An idea sparked in your head and a smirk appeared on your lips which confused him.

“If you want to pass by you have to make me,” you said, the tone of your voice absolutely challenging.

He frowned and groaned. “(y/n), please,” he asked in frustration and waved his gun around in front of you.

You grabbed his wrist and turned it so the gun was held against your head. Your free hand reached out to grab the bulge between his legs.

“I can think of way better things for this to use, you know,” you purred and took a step forward, lowering your hand which held his wrist so the gun was pointing between your legs. “Unless you’re afraid, of course.”

A chuckle left your throat when you saw those stormy eyes turn from anger to lust and within a second, he was kissing you so hard he almost punched the air out of your lungs with it.

JJ wouldn’t hurt you and if you were honest, your mind had been going to this place for a while now. There was just something about him and the gun that made your legs weak and your pussy drip. Maybe it was the danger in it, maybe it was the kick of adrenaline, you didn’t really now. You only knew you wanted this.

His body weight pressed you against the next wall and you groaned a little at the pain rushing through your back. He used this moment to push his tongue inside your mouth. At this point, you let go of his wrist to throw both arms behind his neck, pulling him even closer but the arm between you still prevented you from almost merging in the heat.

JJ moved his hand a little and slowly started rubbing you between your legs with the gun. You swallowed when it made contact with the fabric where your clit would be.

“You like that, huh?” he asked when he pulled back briefly to look into your eyes. Your cheeks were wearing a blush and your panties were probably already ruined from just a little touch. He had this effect on you, it was hard to keep calm with him around, especially when his voice had this edge and his eyes told you he would be able to fuck you numb at any second now.

What could you say? You loved it rough and maybe he wasn’t the only one with a gun kink here.

“Answer me,” he said and pressed the tip of the gun more forcefully against your clit which made you yelp.

“Yes, I love it,” you moaned and he grinned at you, apparently enjoying you’re sharing his interests..

“Good girl,” he mumbled and kissed you again, starting to rub the gun in slow circles over the fabric.

You were already so heated and this was only the beginning of the dangerous game you were playing with him. The anger he had still inside of him was only fueling the fire more. Thank god for this unholy opportunity.

“Suck my dick,” he whispered against your lips and you nodded. He pulled his hand away from between your legs and you sank down in front of him, eyes on him while he lifted the gun to look at it. 

“Holy shit, that’s hot.” A dark chuckle left his throat while turning the gun before holding it to your temple. It wasn’t cold anymore but the idea of it ran a shiver down your spine anyway.

The look he had in his eyes was something you couldn’t describe and he just smirked while you were opening his pants, pulling them down together with his boxer shorts. 

He was already hard in front of you and you gladly took him inside, the muzzle of the gun pressed against your skin giving you the extra kick, one he seemed to get too. JJ threw his head back when you swallowed him whole, nose pressing against his lower half for a moment before pulling back, coughing a little.

You only took him in completely when you were really aroused, mostly later in the blowjob but now you did it right at the start. Looking in his eyes while your own were watering a little showed you that he knew what it meant. Bastard.

His length was growing even more inside of you. His free hand wandered in your hair, playing a bit with it, urging you gently to suck him faster.

Your tongue moved around his head of his length and you had to use one of your hands to cover everything, pumping and sucking at the same time.

“Fuck that’s good,” he moaned and swallowed hard, looking down at you to take in the scene completely. The gun, you at his mercy, sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow. You took him in deep again which made him close his eyes in a loud moan.

Meanwhile your cunt was quivering in need of attention, at least to get the fabric out of the way. Raw desire was clawing inside of you, simply wanting to get the sweet release, at least a little friction.

Your other hand moved between your legs and opened the button of your pants, moving one hand inside. The panties were ruined for sure, you could already feel the wetness lingering there. You were able to flick over your clit a couple of times when you heard a click.

You swallowed hard and looked up at him, eyes now on you with a sneer on his face.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” The growl only turned you on more but you took your hand out of your pants and shook your head, mouth not leaving his cock. “Then don’t do it.”

You nodded and kept sucking him but he made a sound of disapprovement briefly after.

“To the bed,” he commanded and you got up. “Wait there for me, naked.”

A small chuckle left your mouth when he slapped your ass while you made your way to his bedroom. You threw your top and bra away on the way there, wiggling out of the pants and ruined panties in front of the bed.

It took him a moment to join you and you weren’t sure what he had done during that time, maybe taking a moment so he wouldn’t directly explode? He was undressed now too, gun still in his hand.

“Such a beautiful sight,” he mumbled as he came over to look at how you were positioned on his bed, everything about your body telling him that you wanted him. “An such an obedient slut.” 

You swallowed hard at those words. He didn’t use them often but when he did your whole body was screaming in lust. You loved dirty talk and he had just the perfect voice for this. Sometimes he called you good girl while you were with your friends, when it fit the occasion, knowing exactly what that would to do you.

JJ came over to you and joined you on the bed, kneeling above you. He lowered the gun to your face and smirked, running it over your forehead, your nose to your mouth, tapping it against your lips a few times.

He then moved to your bare chest, pressing the muzzle on top of your left nipple and then running it in circles around the firm skin of your breast a couple of times before repeating the process on the right one. He then moved the gun down your stomach and even further.

You knew exactly where this was going and it made your pussy drip even more in excitement. You laid still, not daring to say a word.

When the steel pressed against your clit you moaned, almost cumming on the spot from the feeling of it.

“You are so. dirty.” JJ laughed at you and shook his head in fake disbelief but you could see how excited he was from the way his body was shivering. The blonde starting to move the gun slowly, pleasuring you with the steel that was supposed to kill, not bring pleasure and yet, here you were, enjoying this more than you should.

So did he as you could catch a glimpse of the precum glistening on his hard cock that was just waiting to be inside of you.

He moved the barrel against your clit in such a slow movement that was driving you insane.

“More, please,” you begged and he chuckled, moving the gun a little lower to your entrance, pressing against it a little bit.

Your eyes went wide when you could feel your wet lower lips closing around the tip of the gun, just a little bit. Not deep, not painful but enough to make you fall over the edge on the spot.

“Holy shit, you just came from that!” he said with a grin on his lips, eyes so wide and dark while looking up at you. He obviously didn’t expect this to happen and neither did you if you were honest. There was just something about that cold steel pressing inside of you, even if it wasn’t much, that made you explode with lust.

He moved a little so he could lean down and kiss you. “I love you so much, my dirty girl,” he mumbled against your lips and you smiled into the kiss, an unspoken ‘I love you too’ as you were pretty sure you wouldn’t get a single word out right now.

Asshole that he was, he didn’t give you much time to recover. During the kiss he already started to tease your clit with the gun once more before pulling back, kneeling again. He lifted the gun to look at it and you could see it glistening in the sun, the tip covered in your wetness.

The blush on your cheeks was nothing you could hide anymore but he liked it, so there was no need for it anyway.

He moved the gun to your face again, tapping against your lips with the muzzle that was coated in your wetness.

“Suck it like you would suck my cock, baby”, he demanded and you swallowed before opening your mouth.

JJ pressed the gun inside your mouth and you could taste yourself on it. You started to suck on it slowly, imagining his cock and never looking away from his eyes.

“Use your tongue.” You started to move your tongue around the tip of the gun, licking every last drop of your own wetness from it.

His hand had moved between your legs, playing and pinching your clit and you moaned around the gun. He used that moment to push it in just a little deeper, always careful not to hurt you but still in a dominant way.

It was a weird feeling to do this, it was so different from anything else you had done and yet, you couldn’t stop the heat building up inside of you again, especially when he played you like an instrument down there.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he said and licked his lips, pressing two fingers inside of you. He then started to move the gun, moving it inside and outside your mouth slowly, watching how your lips glided over it over and over again. His fingers mirrored the movement of the gun in your mouth.

“Ride me,” he suddenly demanded and pulled his fingers out of your cunt and the gun out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath as you had been so close to your next orgasm and you threw him a glare at which he just chuckled, knowing exactly what he had done.

He positioned himself on the bed and you licked your lip at the sight. “Hurry up and show me what a good ride is,” he said with a wink and you smirked while climbing on top of him, almost impaling yourself on his length but he stopped you right when you could feel the tip of his dick touching your folds just slightly.

“You have to use it,” he requested and you raised an eyebrow at him when he held the gun out to you.

“What do you mean?” you asked him and he looked at you with a wolfish grin on his lips, leaning upwards a little, supporting himself on his arms for a moment.

“I want you to hold it under your chin,” he explained and put the gun in your hand before tapping a spot of skin under your chin with his fingers. “Don’t pull the trigger by accident,” he added with a wink and for a moment you were absolutely gobsmacked.

A moment that passed fast enough when he grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock, a scream of surprise and pleasure leaving your throat.  He leaned back on the bed and enjoyed the view he got.

“Fucking bastard,” you breathed out and he chuckled.

“What was that?” he asked in a daring tone and you just shook your head. “The gun, baby.”

He nodded at it in your hand and you reluctantly held it to the soft skin under your chin. One wrong movement and you would shoot straight through your mouth up to your brain.

You swallowed hard when he started to move slowly inside of you, dragging his thrusts out. The lust in his darkened eyes told you how much he loved this and it must be a nice view for him.

Naked on top of him, impaled on his cock, breasts swinging with the movement and the gun pressed against yourself, both hands wrapped around the grip. Maybe it looked a little like you would be praying right now.

Any thought of worry vanished when he slapped your ass. You started to move your hips on top of him, riding him like he wanted.

The grip on your hips grew tighter and you knew he loved it. It probably took him quite the willpower to not thrust into you without mercy. You moved your hips faster, circling it on top of it, always careful not to slip the gun.

“Shit baby, you’re so beautiful when you do it like that,” he moaned and his cock twitched inside of you. “Tell me where you belong.”

“I belong to you, on your cock, just like this,” you said without thinking, dragging the next movement out. “I’m your dirty girl.”

He growled at those words and gripped your hips even tighter, not holding back anymore now. His own hips snapped up rapidly, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, hitting the sweet spot with every movement.

You moaned loudly and your thoughts were clouded with lust and pleasure, only focused on the things he made you feel but always aware of the steel pressed against your skin.

A whimper left your mouth as you felt yourself getting close and his movement was also getting more erratic and less controlled, he couldn’t be far away from orgasm either.

It took two more thrusts at this punishing pace and you screamed out your orgasm, the pleasure exploding inside of you with full force. Your vision blurred, your legs got weak and your fingers squeezed the trigger just a little bit.

Your breathing hitched in terror and fear for a moment but you stopped yourself from actually pulling it.

The blonde under you kept slamming inside of you at the same pace that brought you to come until his fingernails dug into your skin and he held your body pressed closely against his while you felt him painting your inner walls with hot cum.

You both breathed hard for a moment and you still didn’t dare to move the gun away. His eyes were closed and you watched him briefly before closing your own eyes.

JJ leaned up towards you then and took the gun carefully out of your hands, placing it on his nightstand, then wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest.

“You were amazing,” he mumbled and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You felt how his cock slipped out of you at the different position, some of his semen following after, dripping down your legs.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you chuckled against his sweaty skin and he laughed.

“Is this always gonna happen when I want to kill someone now? Because I might want to go on a killing spree.” He laughed and you could feel the rumble in his chest.

You looked up at him with a grin on your lips and winked. 

“Maybe? I guess you have to find out.”

[squishneedsahero]

Stubborn

The Lost Padawan

Part 7 of ?

Word Count: 1165

You were raised in the Jedi order, Padawan of Jedi Master Obiwan Kenobi.

Rex looks at you in just as much shock, "y/n?" he asks.

You rush over to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, it was so nice to see someone familiar who wasn't trying to gun you down on sight. Million questions run through your mind wanting to be asked, but with a shake of your head you decide to just let Rex say what he came here too since he had obviously come for a reason. You let go and thats when the others approach and greet Rex as well.

From there all of. you move to sit at the bar and talk, Rex sharing the information he feels the need too. Eventually Wrecker and Omega come back from their little expedition to go get some snacks to celebrate the mission complete. Wrecker rushes in and lifts Rex off the ground in a hug.

"I thought you didn't like the regs?" Omega questions.

"We like this one," Wrecker responds as he places Rex pack on his feet.

Rex approaches Omega and looks her over saying, "I've seen my share of clones but in all my years I've never seen one like you."

"You generation one," Omega says, eyeing him.

"How can you tell?"

"The lines on your face."

Their conversation gets interrupted by Wrecker speaking again, "hey Tech I need one of those med packs, my headache is coming back."

"Headache?" Rex questions, suddenly defensive.

"Yes they're unfortunately getting more and more frequent."

"If you're worried about the chips theres no need, we are defective so they are as well," Tech responds.

"You're telling me you haven't removed your chips?" Rex asks in a low voice, his hand edging towards his blaster.

"No, not yet."

"Rex," Hunter tries to ease the tension.

"Those chips are more dangerous than you think, they make you a threat to everyone around you, including her," he gestures towards Omega. "Until you get them out you're ticking time bombs."

Take it easy captain."

"I've seen what happens when those chips activate and I don't want to have to bury anymore of our brothers. Trust me it is not something you can control, I couldn't. It is not a risk you want to take."

All of this puts you on edge, why exactly you hadn't connected the chips to Wrecker's headaches you weren't sure but you slowly move from your seat and hop to the opposite side of the bar. After everything you'd seen on Coruscant you couldn't help but be extremely paranoid, even if you had spent nearly a month with these clones and they were becoming like family. All the clones had been like family to the Jedi and yet they had turned so easily.

"How do you suggest we get them out?" Hunter asks after another few tense moments.

Rex finally releases his blaster, "good question."

You've been putting some puzzle pieces together and decide to jump in to ask, "well, how'd you get yours out Rex?"

There's the slightest of pauses before Rex answers that he'd had it removed on one of the Star Destroyers. A plan is made to go find one of those and meet up there so the bad batch can get their chips removed. So, you all follow through with that plan, flying with your new found family to meet Rex and get the chips removed.

You meed up and make your way to the star destroyer without being noticed by the inhabitants of the planet. It's as you're going through the ship that parts of it are revealed to be submerged in water, which is fine... Except that there's a 20 foot gap between the two platforms above the water. And the water is a good 50 feet below the platforms so its especially precarious.

They get a cable to bridge the gap and begin crawling to the other side one at a time, they have Omega go first then try to get you to go. "No, if I need to I can jump, you guys get across first," you argue, wanting to be the last one to cross since you'd be able to help them across if needed.

It was needed, by the time it was Wrecker's turn the point where the cord was secured had already been loosened then Wrecker's weight just pulled the thing completely out of the wall. Sending him plummeting down to the water below. He catches himself on the coord, giving a moment of relief before some tentacles and maybe a tongue come out of the water and wrap around him, trying to drag him in.

Impulsively you jump down there, to a platform just under the water's surface, you'd been on ships exactly like this most of your life, you knew it was there without having to look. From that platform you are able to barely reach Wrecker as he is struggling to climb away from the creature. You look up and see that the others are trying to pull him up as well, doing what they can to help but hardly making any progress.

"Don't do anything stupid!" you hear a shout from above you.

"Too late!" you shout back as you leap into the water, lightsaber drawn and begin cutting at the creature to save your friend. Through the murky water you're able to see that Wrecker is now well away from the surface, having been able to climb quickly with your distraction. Once he is far enough that the creature can't reach him you cut yourself free from its grasp and swim to the surface.

Upon breaking the surface the coord is dropped to just in front of you, allowing you to grab ahold of it and the others to pull you up. You'd done enough damage to the creature that there wasn't much need to keep fighting, giving you a chance to catch your breath from the almost minute you'd been under.

When you reach the platform you lay back to catch your breath and Hunter says, "kid thats probably the dumbest stunt you've pulled so far."

"Is that a challenge?" you ask in a joking tone. Before Hunter can protest you look at Rex and say, "can you try telling him that doing dumb shit is part of being a jedi? I'm not even that bad-" you sigh as you rise to your feet.

Rex shakes his head and looks at Hunter, "jedi are a stubborn bunch, and I'm afraid this one is just as stuck in their ways as the rest. But they're definitely not the most reckless, that award is still going to have to go to general Skywalker."

Hunter can only shake his head and say something along the lines of, "you're going to be the death of me."

Then you go and respond, "not on my watch," with a small smirk.

Hunter can only shake his head as all of you continue towards the med bay to start getting the chips out.

[cherrycokedup]

This will get messy, I’m sure

Chapter one

Word count [6044]

Tags: lotsa blood talk, spiting? Miley is super aggressive, guns, knives, a whole death game, swearing, repeated words, chase scenes, mentions of murder, it’s the logic route, reference to forced love (maple) blacking out from pain, forced kissing

I think that’s everything but please let me know if other tags need to be added. English is my second language so please be gentle when pointing out mistakes!

Summary: Maple, Miley and Safalin decide to break everyone out of the death game. Except it’s a bit more dangerous than they hoped.

The plan was in motion.

Miley felt like she was going insane. But she gripped the key as she marched down the hall. Heels click, click, clicking on the floor.

Shit was about to go down. That’s how every good story starts, isn’t it?

Maple was right beside her. Such a tall girl, 6”8. Eyes orange with frazzled anxiety.

God they could just turn back. They should turn back. Let this run their course.

Miley slammed the door to the classroom shut.

No going back now.

Without waiting a moment, she took on her heel and chucked it at the camera in the classroom.

She counted.

Good. It’s all of them.

Miley locked the door.

“Shin, key. Give it.” Her heart was racing. This was a bad idea. It was a bad idea. She watched him sputter, trying to deny it was there. Gripping his scarf. Everyone else was yelling in confusion. And anger. Miley was responsible for two deaths after all. Her head was in a blur and she could barely comprehend what was being said.

Keiji was covering Sara’s ears as the name Joe started to be tossed around. Everyone was giving her a nasty glare to add on.

“Shin. Give me the fucking key. Unless you all want to die at Meister’s hands. Then you’re free to do so.” The words died down. Meister was a new name to them- as far as Miley knew.

Shin still didn’t hand it over.

Sweat made strands of Miley’s hair cling to her face. God she probably looked deranged. But, there wasn’t time to spare. She dashed over and took the scarf from his neck, before ripping the necklace off. She handed back the scarf, as Shin started to yell again. Sputters and curses.

“Hush.”

Miley glared, letting out a sigh.

“Good. Now show me your neck” She twirled the key between her gloved fingers, hoping he wouldn’t protest again. And just to her luck, he didn’t! Thank fucking god. She snapped the key in, turned and watched the metal collar clatter to the floor. It worked. Good.

“How did you know that would work? How did you know I had it-“ Shin asked, rubbing his now free neck as cold air rushed over it. The rest of the group was speechless as well. It must have been a shocking thing, to see the things that had been controlling their life for the past week, fall away as if it was nothing.

Miley didn’t answer questions, just shrugging. She really didn’t see why she should.

“Alright. Sara, get your ass over here” Miley had that tight feeling in her throat. At any time this plan could be busted. “Better yet form a line behind Sara”

Miley tuned out people talking and asking questions. She didn’t have time to explain anything. Every word was just. It didn’t matter.

Maple stood next to the door, somehow still looking gorgeous despite the situation. A bright smile, hands folded behind her back. The still amber-orange anxiety color swirling. Now was not the time to be gushing over the obstructor.

Miley went through, making sure everyone had the collars off. If everything was going right, Saf should have the exit planned out. Miley went to the door to unlock it.

Wait no.

Miley went and grabbed the heel she had used to smash the camera and put it back on. She straightened up and started to tie her hair back, sighing again.

“Mai?”

“Oh- yes?” The sweet baker perked up at the sound of their name being spoken, tilting their head. Hair fell into her face, as she giggled, brushing it back. The thrill of sudden possible freedom must have made her a bit giggly.

“May I have that knife? Yes, the one you’re hiding in your weird little glove cuff thing.” Miley turned around, smiling. Having step one complete- it felt intoxicating. Her head was dizzy and light and she couldn’t keep from grinning.

“Knife-?” Mai feigned her innocence, blinking.

“Yes, the knife. Don’t make this hard please.”

It took a moment, Mai looking conflicted as she glanced at Q-Taro. But the knife was placed into Miley’s hand, to which she slashed her long curls off. It was such a sharp knife, it didn’t take a struggle at all.

It felt so freeing, remembering the reason she had grown it out in the first place. How her lover had run his hands through her short hair, kissing her forehead. He had asked if she ever thought about growing it out. How much he liked girls with long hair.

She had grown it out very long to be fair. When straightened, it went down to her knees when Miley spent the time straightening it out. It fell just to her mid thigh when Miley let it just be curly.

The knife clattered on the floor, and then Miley unlocked the door and opened it, giving a slight bow.

“Well, guess it’s curtains closed for this game-.”

Sara, of course, started to lead the group to the door, always trying to take the position of a leader, before Keiji grabbed her shoulder, making her stop in her tracks.

Like a puppet and the puppeteer.

“Not to sound distrustful- haha- but you know exactly why I don’t feel exactly esatic ‘bout the group of us running off with you” His voice had that drip of sarcasm, he looked up, hand on his neck.

“Fine then. Don’t trust me, and fucking rot here.” Her temper started to boil up, still feeling the cold of her own collar against her neck. “Just get over it for a moment. I killed that stupid old man- or that ditzy boy, sure that’s true. You know the floormasters have collars. Take a brain cell or two to think about it.” Miley didn’t have time to argue her innocence. They had to fucking go now.

Fine. If they wanted to stay, they could be Miley’s guest. Miley left the room, Maple following behind. If they followed, great. If they didn’t, it would almost certainly be death for them. Recollared and right back to playing.

But, to her surprise she heard footsteps follow behind. A quick glance back showed the group following.

Ranmaru was holding onto Sara’s arm, and Anzu was happily chittering away with Reko, Hinako was trailing behind Keiji, Kurumada and Shin not so secretly holding hands. Q-taro was carrying Gin, as Mai and Hayasaka whispered. That looked to be everyone at least.

They got to the fourth floor, Miley starting to think this would all go smoothly. Maple had reached out to hold Miley’s hand, rubbing comforting circles into it. This plan could still very well end in their deaths. Something Miley had killed to avoid.

“Oh, Maple and Miley. My pretty girls.”

God fucking dammit Midori. He stood in front of them, a huge grin. Hands at his side, tilting his head. They had prepared for this, Maple already taking off in the other direction and motioning for the others to follow. So then it was just Miley and Midori, standing alone

“Don’t make this hard” Miley muttered under her breath, standing up straighter as Midori approached. He hummed, putting a finger under her chin

“Are you trying to ruin my game Emi?” His voice dropped in honey sweet manipulation, sugar water with a pink tint, that made you want to drink up every word he said.

“Keep my name out of your mouth.” Miley grabbed his wrist, taking his hand away from her, keeping eye contact. But, He had somehow managed to get a hand behind her head, and grab a fistful of her shorn hair. She refused to cry out in pain, biting her tongue.

“And you cut your hair short. It was always so pretty long” He continued to hum, gripping her hair tighter “Awww you used to love when I called you that.”

Miley kicked at his leg, making his grip faulted as she pushed him away. He laid on a floor with a smile, standing back up “if it’s a fight you want-“

Pain bloomed in Miley jaw, as it registered that he had punched her. And so she punched back. Midori gripped her around the waist, dipping her low. Like this was some sick dance. Each one hoping to kill the other. She slammed his against a wall, getting a whine out of him. To which he twisted her arm behind her back, and Miley swore she heard something crack.

She elbowed him, feeling satisfied at the gasp her let out, kicking his legs again. Miley could keep hitting and hitting. But the problem was, most of him was plastic. Most of Miley’s punched just left her hand scraped.

They fought for a long while, Miley getting more battered but the minute. Looking like she had been thrown in a mixing bowl. There was a cut above her eye that was gushing blood, and her muscles burned from it all. Her lip was bleeding, and biting her lip only left blood to put out.

Midori dipped her one final time, pressing his lips to her own. She must have tasted like sweat and metal. She bit his lip and he pulled away with a grin, her blood dripping from his lips.

And suddenly she felt it crack. Some bones but she couldn’t tell what.

And that’s when the lights started to flash red, the alarm system screeching. Which meant the group had gotten out of the death game area.

He laughed, dropping her to the floor, pain reverting through her fragile body. She coughed more of her own blood into the ground, trying to stand up. Hurt him more.

“This whole thing has been fun, but I have some sheep to gather.” And he departed, but not before spitting her own blood right back into her face.

“Gross.” Miley thought, wiping it away.

Her chocolate decorated corset made it hard to breathe, vision starting to blur. The effects of the fight were really starting to get to her. Oh god everything felt like it was on fire. Was she going to pass out? Be found and then killed for causing all this chaos? Was it worth it?

Her head was in a blur, as she pushed herself off the floor, leaning against the wall. She still had things to do. She couldn’t let this plan get ruined.

Miley pulled off her gloves, starting to tear at the buttons on her corset. Her mother had always kissed her hands and said they were the one of a lady. Her mother- had Asu-naro already sent someone to kill her? What about her sister and brother. The twins. Just turning 13 next week, her mother had adopted them.

Had Miley made everything worse? In her false haze of wanting to play the hero, had she gotten the ones she cared about most killed?

Miley felt herself sliding down the wall, no matter how much she tried to keep walking. Midori was a strong man, and a fight like that- honestly it was going to be deadly.

And just like that, Miley blacked out, falling into a crumpled mess on the floor.

_

Maple had to turn away from Miley as Midori approached, leading the group away from the danger. Her heart felt like it was cut up, racing through the hall. Well- it was.

Miley had clumsy cut open her chest, and cut wires, and connected new ones. Maple wasn’t in love with Midori, but it still felt hurtful betraying him.

clack clack clack.

Her heels were comforting. It was a constant noise. It was easy to tune out the chatter of the group she was leading to safety. Safety. Maple had never known anything outside of these floors. Miley had her memorize the map.

But once they were out of the secret door, it was whole new territory for the girl. It was a scary concept, running into what could very well be a death trap.

clack clack clack

Focus on the clacking. Keep yourself calm. Panicking won’t do any good. She couldn’t disappoint Miley. She had worked so hard on this plan, a plan to try and reverse all of the pain they had caused. Some redemption arc.

Maple rushed into the elevators, making sure everyone got on.

Back to the fifth floor. Maple had to pick something up now that Miley wasn’t with them. Backup plans were good. Plans are good. Safe. She dashed into the room with the Shin AI who watched Maple take a spare ID card out of the vent. The name reading “Emiri Harai”

Maple thought that was a pretty name. But it was back to the mad dash, once again rushing into the elevators. And skittering out, counting to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Keiji kept trying to say something. Maple told him to save all questions for the outside.

The outside was such a wonderful concept, an endless world. Miley had told her all about it. It seemed wonderful.

Maple kept pressing the ID card into the dirt walls. Press press press.

It was somewhere around here, it had to be. Maple started to hear the whispers that maybe the poor dummy had been fried.

The door opened, just like Miley said it would. Maple pushed everyone in, squealing. She could hardly wait!

Safalin was standing in that long winding hallway of stairs, and Maple gave her the nod that said Miley was caught up with Midori.

Safalin threw off her heeled boots, and socks. It would be easier to run without heels and socks could make you slip. And she was running back inside the very place the group had just escaped.

Maple counted the doors.

clack clack clack had turned into a clop clop clop. Just focus on that.

Door number and sounds. Focus on that and everything would be okay. She felt her wires turn into knots, feeling fizzing water boil under her skin.She shivered, hugging her arms.

Death seemed to hang closer by the minute, spinning around her head, the rope tightening around her neck.

There it was. The final door. Open it, and the death game was ruined. Don’t and surely some other workers would come and dismantle Maple, recollar the others.

The door creaked as Maple pushed it open, grabbing onto Sara’s hand. Sara grabbed onto Ranmaru’s and so on, a chain. Qtaro at the end, still holding Gin.

“ah…are you all ready?” Maple turned to look at them, being met with a chorus of agreements, thumbs up.

“Just bout ready as any of us can be!” Q-taro said, grinning. Such a hopeful smile- had he really learned to trust people?

Well. It makes sense that they would trust Maple much more than Miley.

“Meow! I’ve been ready forever!” Gin waved, his pawed glove bonking Q-taro in the face who chuckled.

The had to go well, for the kids at least.

“There’s no going back now. You’ve gotten us this far.” Sara nodded, looking at Ranmaru then Keiji. Keiji just shrugged, with his usual lazy smile, distrustful as usual.

Maple pulled them into the empty hall. The air was cool, and had that fresh office smell, their footsteps making a muffled bomp bomp bomp. It was almost deadly silent, no one even daring to breathe. Maple felt the sweat from Sara’s palm. She wondered what it was like to sweat. But she wouldn’t know.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

bomp bomp bomp.

a door creaked open, someone stepping into the hall. They looked up from their paper, locking eyes with Maple. Eyes widened from both parties as everyone realized what just occurred. The man dashed past them, no doubt going to set off the alarm.

Maple started running, hearing everyone starting to breathe heavily behind her. They went through the door the man came from, running through the office area.

Oh goodness the noise. Everyone was shouting. And trying to pull the group apart. Maple kept her iron grip on Sara, and she just had to hope everyone was doing the same. Maple saw lights start to flash red.

God dammit.

She slid into the hallway, tile slipping against her shoes. She was knocking things over with her size, potted plants and printers crashing.

Clomp, click, bomp, clack.

As Maple dragged them through halls, and into different rooms, the floor pattern changed. Finally, Maple swung everyone into an empty room, and locked the door shut. Through the slats, Maple watched people run by. Most of them had weapons of the gun variety. But knives were also strewn in.

Turn around and count. Everyone was still there. Miley knew this was going to happen. Maple knew there was a plan. But it was just- god all of this was nerve wracking.

Get them out one by one. Or two by two

If Maple could at least do that, it would be okay.

She looked around the room, hearing everyone whisper to each other. Such a close knit group, forced together by a rope of death that tightened almost every moment. Keiji was going over something with Sara and Ranmaru. Anzu was listening in. Kurumada was lifting Shin up so they both could look out the door slats better.

Dammit this was stressful, Miley had warned her it would be. But actually seeing everyone. How much they were trying not to panic. The hope that they could go home was painted on their faces. But Now they were trapped in a room that no one had noticed them in yet.

Maple tried to remember the plan that Miley had told her, the plan for when they were found.

Get them out. Youngest to oldest.

Maple gently picked Gin out of Q-taro’s arms.

“Be gentle with him, will ya?” Worry shone in his tone, looking out of place now he wasn’t protecting the little boy

“Don’t worry woof! I’ll protect PancakeHead!” He smiled, eyes scrunching up. So brave. Maple just nodded, giving her best smile.

PakecakeHead

Maple liked that. It made her sound like some superhero

And she slipped out the door. The hallways had emptied, everyone assuming they headed for the lobby, the one with the biggest exit. Only sound was them and the alarm bells.

Maple pressed a finger to Gin’s mask, a silent way to ask him not to speak.

It wasn’t far from there, just down the staircase and into the old storage room

Finally, there was the door. Well- the back door. It was old and walked up, but as per the plan, Safalin had uncovered it beforehand. Maple opened the door to the back alley, looking around for a place to hide Gin. She set him down, a heavy sign leaving her lips.

“Stay out of sight”

“Okay meow!”

Could she trust him? Never mind that. No time for doubt. He was 12, he could handle himself.

It wasn’t long till Maple got back to the room. And she quickly explained the route. Because going one by one was a bit dangerous, and would take quite a while. And luckily everyone was already paired up. Which just made everything just absolutely much more convenient for Maple.

And Maple could take Hayasaka, since Gin was already gone.

And then they all went out.

And by some miracle, everyone met up in that alleyway safe and sound.

Everyone was clearly ecstatic. Taking deep breaths of the fresh air. Sara let her hair down to let the faint wind blow through. The bitter cold air bit at her cheeks, turning them red. Everyone was talking so excitedly, And quickly. It was nice to see everyone so happy.

She didn’t have the heart to remind the dummies about their battery.

_

footsteps pattered heavy, the only thing being heard- wait no. An alarm. That was also there.

Her chest shook with a cough, sticky blood spattering across her chest. It was warm, making her feel all the more sick. Everything honestly hurt, she felt like she had been dragged back from death.

Safalin held Miley closer, running through the hall, trying to just get out of the building. She couldn’t give a shit about the plan right now.

She had found Miley on the ground, her breathing rattling. When Safalin picked her up, she accidentally left out an audible gasp. It was just plain obvious with the way her side so easily squashed into Safalin, that whatever fight she had gotten into, something happened to her ribs. Broken, or something.

Running so hard against the tile with bare feet stung, each breath bringing a sharp pain. Safalin wasn’t exactly in shape. So she just felt almost like she was just going to wither away.

She felt almost pathetic in that way. She was just running. Not hurt at all. And Miley was on the brink of death.

Unfortunately, the sudden bang and loud ringing pain in her ear was absolutely to change that real quick. She felt blood ooze onto her shoulder, staining the white dress. It felt like the world was thrown off balance. The pain would kick in later.

clearly the security system had kicked in.

She didn’t have much of a chance to pause and figure out what happened. All she had was running. Keep running.

Adrenaline doused her, numbing most everything.

Blood on the cheek, dripping down her sides, caking to her leg. A slight burn was there, but Safalin chose to ignore it.

Rocks in the dirt dug into her feet, as she pressed her ID card quickly to the dirt and safely letting herself collapse in the hall of stairs.

Safalin wheezed in heavy breaths of air, pain starting to melt in.

Gunshots weren’t exactly pleasant. Burning filled her, spreading out and covering her, like a very thick unpleasant blanket.

The actual bullets hadn’t hurt at all. It felt like she had been flicked, or maybe a small marble had been thrown at her. But god the pain was fucking overwhelming.

She dropped the still unconscious Miley, letting herself just lay in all the hurt. It was like a flood, her throat aching. She wanted to cry. To scream and sob. But it was honestly just like she was waiting for death. Was she waiting for something to just come and brush all the pain away, and to lead her away into whatever afterlife was real.

But she never was. The pain started to dull, like when you sit in a boiling bath for too long. You know that it hurts, but it’s enough that you just can’t bring yourself to care.

Safalin sat up, forcing in a breath of air. The attacks must have been much more mild, likely just wanting to docile Miley and Safalin, forcing them back into place. Unlike how Miley was convinced if the slightest thing went wrong with this plan they’d be killed.

Speaking of Miley. When Safalin sat up, Miley was just gone. There was of course a blood trail. God- it really was a lot of blood. It was enough to make anyone sick. But being a nurse- Safalin really didn’t mind. She stood up, ignoring the new burning.

She stumbled down the stairs, wincing as she accidentally dragged her toe. Yes. Just survived all of that, and whining at a stubbed toe. The door the blood lead to was the third floor. She wondered what business Miley had there.

The Ranger AI was safely tucked into her pocket after all.

So of course she had to find her. Miley was likely just delirious with pain, walking around with no goal in mind. Safalin should go and find her, and make sure the woman didn’t do anything reckless.

The lobby was familiar to Safalin. In that nice calming way. The classic smell of the lobby was like a pat on the back, soft carpet making her just want to lay down. It had that old movie theater scent now that she took a moment to think about it. Vacuums, melted popcorn butter, sticky candy.

That was probably why it was so pleasant.

But the blood dripping into the carpet and clumping wasn’t very comforting. She followed the already set out path, as unsettling as it was to be searching for blood. The lights were shut off, since the floor wasn’t in use. The path went into the long hallway. Safalin took care not to look in the room of lies, Alice’s death was still too much to bear.

And soon enough, Safalin ended up in the main game room again.

It was a painful memory, clicking the button to trigger poor little Kanna’s death. It wasn’t something Safalin had ever wanted to do. Hence their plan that had been formed in break rooms, text messages and over late night calls.

Miley was bent over Kanna, brushing away the flowers. Flowers were just everywhere in the room. Pretty but heart wrenching.

Kanna looked so delicate, completely drained pale skin, a grey undertone. Her lips were a lovely shade of bruised purple. And of course bruises still covered her. Flowers and vines stretching under your skin weren’t very gentle.

Miley had a caring look on her face, a fond smile. It was almost like a child looking over her kid.

“Miley- come on we still have to meet everyone outside” Safalin tried to pled with the woman, sighing softly in regret as they were only met with Miley shushing her.

She was probably just delusional at the moment. The pain getting to her head.

“Shush Saf. She’s breathing”

Huh? No- well, maybe?

The flowers were meant to be a slow death. The flowers use your very life to fuel themselves, draining you, while also keeping you alive. A slow battle that ended in death.

She supposed it was possible that it was a slow enough death that hours later Kanna could still be alive. After all, the main game wasn’t all that long ago.

The group had been rushed off to the next floor afterwards after all, and then Miley came along and..

yes. It was entirely possible

Miley stood there a moment longer, legs shaking before picking up the girl. She petted Kanna’s hair. It was a bittersweet sight. Safalin knew Miley had a daughter that was Kanna’s age, but had died young.

Well at least that’s just what Safalin had to assume.

Miley rocked back and forth, humming softly, as she walked to the door. How Miley was able to seem so regal even with a limp and practically doused in blood, it was a mystery.

“Well come along Saf. We can’t keep the dear participants waiting, can we?”

Maybe there was something about almost dying that filled you with a calm elegance. However Safalin was the opposite, starting to sob. She always had tears running, that was never unusual.

She hugged her arms, and wailed, taking in large shaky breaths. “Mu-m-Mil-Miley! Luh-Look at yooooou!” Every word was chopped up to the hyperventilating, every breath being accompanied by a rather annoying wheezing noise. She had every right to start breaking down. The facility was in lockdown, everyone was on lookout for them, just hours before she had watched someone she saw as a son die at the hands of his father. It was all rather overwhelming.

Safalin had never been a rule breaker in the first place. She had happily gone along with what she was told, as long as she wouldn’t get in trouble. She was the delight to have in class, the girl who was called out as the example. She was nothing like Miley, who could curse people out, get into fights and yell. She had no problem bending the rules for her own enjoyment.

The only rules Miley hadn’t been able to bend was ASU-NARO’S so was that one of the reasons Miley had been happy to make this plan? Her longing to have everything go her way?

Safalin didn’t dare let herself fall to her knees, knowing she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to stand up again. The pain everywhere was almost too much, the constant warm burning. Being shot felt nothing like she thought it would feel like.

“Pfft- I know I look like hot shit, take a look at yourself!” Miley burst out into laughter, an almost cruel smile on her face. “You knew the danger we were putting ourselves into. Cry all you want but we can’t wait her forever. I’m sure Meister and Sou are already looking for us.”

Miley stood by the door, bouncing Kanna on her hip. It got a chuckle out of Safalin, soft sobs still racking her chest. “You know she isn’t a baby right? Kanna’s 14.”

The brunette scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh shush. She’s light enough to be one.” She stepped back out of the room, leaving Safalin to follow.

It was still quiet, as they left the second floor back at the staircase, walking down in silence. The calm was more stressful, considering any noise would mean someone else was here. And that could not be good. But it never occurred.

They went back into the hallway, trying to ignore the loud alarms.

“Miley- what if something happened to the van?”

“Then we find a new one.”

Her words were curt. She was tired, annoyed and in a lot of pain. She had wished all of this had gone smoothly, and of course she wished she didn’t want to wail in pain. Quite honestly, her head was still throbbing from when Kai had hit her with the frying pan.

The van was obviously so theyw could drive away. It wasn’t like they could all just return home, ASU-NARO knew where everyone lived. They would have to dissemble the company before they could go home for certain.

But it would be better than being trapped in a death game. Hopefully. That brought up a second question for Miley. She still had to sort out a way to actually expose ASU-NARO

The dummies would obviously be proof and they would have everyone’s testimonies. But they could just be seen as nut jobs. But Miley could worry about that later. Right now, their only plan was on how to get out. And she could follow that.

It was a very straight forward route, the same Maple and the others took.

And that’s where they meet back up, opening the door and feeling the sweet cold night air. The city smelled like most cities do, but it was perfect.

Miley smiled to herself, before unfortunately her brief moment was ruined by Shin very rudely starting to yell

“Jesus you’re sick. You had to bring her? For what? To taunt us-? For god’s sake you don’t need to bring a corpse!” His hands flew, as he paced back at forth, anger radiating from him.

Sara looked away, the gulit still heavy on voting for the young girl. There were other whispers and glares.

Miley wasn’t one to feel ashamed of gossip. “Can it. Your precious little sister is still breathing. “ She huffed, adjusting to the girl. She looked better now, color coming back to her cheeks. But until they could get somewhere where they would fully disconnect all of the plant like things, Kanna wouldn’t be able to wake. “Huh?” Shin paused, standing still as he stepped closer.

“She’s alright- well mostly. You can see for yourself if you like” no one could miss the motherly tone in her voice, as she held Kanna more like a baby, showing her to the rest of them, who all looked as if it was their first time meeting a baby at a family gathering.

Kanna honestly just mostly looked asleep. Her cheeks were flushed, and you could see her chest shakily rise and fall. She was alive and that was for certain.

“Well- we better get running before they realize we’re out” Ranmaru commented, his hand up in the air.

“But where?” Anzu asked, as she bounced from foot to foot. Whether she was excited or anxious, Miley couldn’t tell.

Miley hummed, brushing hair out of Kanna’s face “Why, to Miss Sara’s house of course. Considering what I know, that will be the last place they’ll think we head”

They didn’t run. They should have, but all of them were exhausted. So they just ended up walking through the streets looking like a freak show.

Maple held Miley’s free hand, and Safalin hung back near the the end, talking to Q-Taro and Mai. Considering that all of this had happened in just about an hour and a half, they had grown to have at least a small amount of trust.

The drug of being free had to have everyone in a good mood, willing to be nice. However being exhausted was also still there.

Through the city and into the housing area, chatter rose and fell. Of course everyone was excited but as Miley glanced at her cracked phone, the time read 4:25 am. Time was really off balance for the participants.

Sara’s street.

Sara smiled, going to the front of the group looking around. She looked so weary, her school uniform wrinkled, and at some point she had lost her blazer, and left her tie untied just letting it rest on her shoulders. Her hair was tangled even if she had let it down just a while ago.

She looked much less tired now that she couldn’t remember Joe. Miley would have to fix that soon.

“Miley?” Sara looked back at her, playing with the longer part of her bangs. Miley personally thought it was a neat hair cut- ridiculous and looked like a hack job. But it looked neat.

“Yes Sara?”

Sara paused, thinking over her words “Thank you. I never thought you would ever do something like that- but you did. Really, we all owe you our lives.”

Miley ended up chuckling, opening her mouth to say something that was now doubt cocky as all hell. Before Maple, who knew her well, elbowed her. Miley sucked in a sharp breath of pain, before forcing a smile “Of course Sara. It’s the least I can do after all we’ve put you through” That much was true. It was truly the least they could do.

Sara went up to her door, and turned the knob. Her eyes widened when it opened with ease. The hall was empty, but she could hear people talking in the living room. She invited everyone inside the house, the pile of shoes was- very large. Sara looked so at place in home, her smile unshakable. She looked hesitant, so Sara looked back to Miley. She knew that obviously she had a plan. Miley nodded.

Sara opened the door to the living room, running in

“Mama-! I’m home! Dad-!”

Miley watched from the doorway as Sara ran in, how her mother turned to look behind her, a face of joy melting on her face. Ryoko was also on that couch, jumping up to go hug her best friend

“Sara- oh my goodness, my baby- my girl. Are you hurt? What happened?” She pulled her into a hug, kissing her daughter’s face all over. “Thank goodness, you’re safe- I didn’t know what to do, you never came home and when I woke up you and your father were there- there’s been people missing all over the city. Jou’s missing too, and Kugie.” Her mother was in a ramble, looking to make sure there wasn’t a scratch on Sara. It was a nice thing to see. Ryoko hugging Sara from behind as Mrs.Chidouin fussed. To see Sara where she should have been all along. Finally, she noticed the rest of them standing in the hall, letting out a gasp

“That’s-“ she must have recognized them all from the news. Miley didn’t know what to do. Keiji stepped in, holding out his hand

“Shinogi Keiji. Dectective. We’ve all been with Sara this past week.”

Miley didn’t know if anything more was said. She had sat down on the bench in the hall, still holding Kanna close.

Miley finally let her eyes rest, and sleep overtook her.

[javier-djarin]

Son of the Medjai: Chapter 3

Osiris’s Curse: Book 1

The Mummy AU

Ship: Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,022 Words

Warnings: Language, Angst, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: The river boat is attacked, forcing them to leave behind all their supplies. Pero navigates uncharted waters with Aria that seem more difficult to manage than anything he's ever faced.

A/N: This might be my favorite part so far. I am having so much fun writing this fic! I really hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am. Shout out to @rebelscumlena for being my beta! This story would not be what it is without you! Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist and what you think of the fic! Any Spanish Translations will always be found at the bottom of every chapter.

Slowly, Pero drew his revolver and crept through the main cabin door. Someone was on this ship that wasn't supposed to be, and they were headed in the same direction as Aria. The footprints led him down the main corridor towards their cabins. His heart was racing with each careful step, creeping down the hallway to surprise their unwanted guest. He reached the end of the hallway, where the footprints stopped just outside of her door. He contemplated barging in versus knocking. At first he pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement, but instead he heard her mumbling. He decided not to take any chances and barge into the room. Grabbing the doorknob, he used his shoulder to force open the door, startling Aria. She gasped and dropped her brush on the floor, desperately attempting to grab her house robe that was hanging on the hook next to her. “I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed. “Have you ever heard of knocking, Mr. Tovar?”

He frowned when he noticed she was alone in the room. “Who were you just talking to?”

Her eyes widened in horror and her face flushed. “I - were you eavesdropping?”

Pero moved to her closet, ripping the doors open. Empty. He glanced under her bed. Vacant. The curtains near the windows were sheer and showed no sign of disturbance anyway. “Mr. Tovar!” she shouted in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

The bathroom door swung shut, locking her in, as a Bedouin man in flowing black robes leapt from behind it and attacked Pero, knocking the revolver from his hand. He held his arms up to block the blows, but the man took a cheap shot to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Pero groaned and rolled to the left for his revolver. Aria had opened the bathroom door, shrieking at the sight. She walked up behind the Bedouin man and kicked him in the back. Pero was impressed as the man fell forward, bouncing off the coffee table in front of him. He aimed his gun at the man, and growled, “Why are you here?”

The man wiped the blood off his face and glared at them. “Why do you keep returning?”

The cabin door behind Aria opened as another Bedouin man reached in, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her out of the room. Pero swore and moved to go after her, but his first adversary leapt forward, grabbed his ankle and pulled him to the ground. Pero fought against his assailant and kicked free, breaking the man’s nose and knocking him unconscious in the process.

He scrambled across the hallway to his cabin and grabbed his loaded arsenal from inside the door. Tossing it across his back, he sprinted after Aria. When he emerged on deck, he noticed the chaos that had consumed everything. A fire had started in the stables as guests and crew members alike abandoned the ship. The Americans were set up comfortably behind a makeshift bunker they’d made out of their poker table and chairs as they whooped and hollered, shooting at the men attacking. “Pinche gringos,” he muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. Pero searched for Aria, but couldn’t find her. Murphy and Nabil were cowering in the corner near the Americans defenseless. When Murphy caught his eye, he pointed in the direction of the stern. He wasn’t surprised at her brother’s cowardice, considering she had more of a backbone than he did when it came to confrontation. Following Murphy’s directions, Pero sprinted, knocking several attackers into the water on his way to the back of the boat. He heard her screaming and crying for help as the man cornered her against the railing.

“Where’s the key?” her kidnapper asked in a rough voice with a knife at her throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she cried, “What key?”

“The key!” he growled.

She had tears in her eyes. “Please, let me go!”

Pero held his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet, but the man noticed her gaze flash behind him and spun around, holding her in front of him like a human shield. Pero rolled his eyes and aimed his revolver at the man. “Let her go,” he snapped.

The man sneered and pressed the knife a little harder against her neck, allowing a small drop of blood trickle down her throat. “Careful,” he said, “you wouldn’t want me to slit her pretty neck.”

“Do, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.” Pero’s grip on his gun tightened as he carefully took aim. Aria didn’t struggle against the man holding her out of fear that his blade would do more damage than it already had.

The man twisted the blade just a little and more blood appeared in a small stream down her neck. Aria’s eyes widened in terror as she pleaded silently to Pero for help. He squeezed the trigger. The gun’s hammer struck the firing pin as the sound echoed across the Nile. She felt the bullet whiz past her ear, striking the man behind her. His grip on her loosened as he fell limply to the ground. It wasn’t until Pero rushed forward to hold her in his arms did she realize what had happened. Panic consumed her as he wiped the blood off her face. She leaned into him, shielding her eyes from the body as he led her away from the scene. They sought shelter for a brief moment under the awning as he inspected the small cut under her chin. It was there, but it wasn’t life threatening. She was gazing into his eyes as he lightly ran his thumb over it, causing bumps to rise on her smooth skin. He could feel himself leaning into her, captivated by her so close to him. Suddenly, an explosion went off, startling them apart. He checked his revolver again, before pressing himself against the wall. Using his free hand, he forced Aria to do the same next to him. “Stay low and behind me,” he said, handing her his arsenal bag.

She grabbed his hand in hers. “Pero,” she whispered, “what if-”

“They won’t. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He replied, squeezing her hand before leading them through the battle.

He spun to the right and shot at several attackers climbing out of the second story windows to escape the flames. Aria clung to him, ducking whenever she heard shots fired. They were making their way to Murphy and Nabil when another Bedouin man attacked Pero with a knife drawn. Pero pushed Aria out of the way, forcing her into Murphy's custody. His assailant slashed him across his forearm as he blocked him from slitting his throat. He hissed at the piercing pain that was shooting up his arm now. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it, forcing it behind his back. He kicked the man away from him as hard as he could before unloading the remaining ammunition in his revolver into him. The fire had grown, now consuming most of the main level cabins as it climbed up the rest of the ship. He strode to Aria with an annoyed grimace on his face. “Tell me you know how to swim,” he sighed.

“What? Well, of course I can, if the situation calls for it,” she said, placing her hands on her hips to make his statement seem even more ridiculous.

Pero grinned and scooped her up in his arms, causing her to drop his bag. “Trust me,” he added, tossing her over the side, “it calls for it.”

She shrieked as she hit the water, the coldness seeping into her robe and nightgown. Pero watched for a split second to see if she came up, laughing when he saw her furiously kicking and gasping for air as she swam away from the boat cursing him. “Bastard!” he heard her swear, “I never in my life met a man so uncouth, uncivilized! Who does he think he is, tossing me overboard like some cheap rag doll?”

He tossed his arsenal over his shoulder and jumped in after her, followed by Murphy and Nabil. The shore was not a far swim for them, and Pero caught up to Aria in no time. She was huffing and puffing, half tempted to abandon her robe the more she struggled. Soon, their feet hit the river bottom. They stood and Aria immediately adjusted her robe to cover herself. Pero looked down at her with a small grin and shook his head as he situated the pack on his shoulder. “We’ve lost everything,” she cried, “all our food, supplies. My clothes!”

“At least you saved that robe,” he chuckled, “I would hate to have you out here in nothing but that dainty nightdress.”

“Some of us have to maintain a sense of propriety,” she argued, “just because I’ve only got this nightgown left doesn’t mean I’m going to choose to run as naked as a bairn out here in the desert.”

Pero laughed again at the thought and then patted the satchel he carried. “We have enough money from Will to get what we need at the nearest village. You don’t need to worry about running around naked just yet. Though,” he said, helping her out of the river and glancing over her body, “no one is stopping you.”

She huffed, pulled her robe closer to her, and joined a soaked Murphy on the side of the river. “Ah yes,” he whispered to his sister, “absolutely nothing to like there at all.”

She glared and turned to him, cuffing him on the shoulder. Nabil laughed while Murphy feigned an injury and meekly followed behind a fuming Aria. “I think you dislocated it this time, old mum,” he complained.

Aria growled and shook her head. “I’ll rip it out of its socket the next time, if you keep it up.”

Murphy glanced at Nabil and chuckled. “She threatens to do that at least once a week.”

Pero lingered behind them for a moment and glared back at the ship. He watched as the rest of the passengers crossed to the other side of the river, and that’s when he saw Beckett join the Americans. He grinned to himself. Every soul that survived the raid crossed to the East side of the Nile - passengers, crew members, camels, and their horses. Beckett had everything; except he was on the wrong side of the river. He watched as his rival figured out the same thing before their eyes met. Pero gave him a smug smile and waved at him before turning back to join the rest of his party. They would have at least a few hours or so on the Americans if they kept moving to find the closest Bedouin tribe to help them with supplies.

Murphy and Pero had gathered what they could to build them a fire that night, allowing everyone to dry off and rest. As she did her best to stay warm against the cool desert wind, Aria took notice of Pero wrapping his arm with a makeshift bandage. She made an attempt to move towards him and help properly dress it, but stopped as he caught her eye. Anticipating what she was going to do, he instead shook his head and quickly covered the bandaged wound with his sleeve. They would worry about it when they reached civilization.

When he felt that they had rested enough, Pero pushed the group forward. He wanted them to locate the nearest market before Beckett and his crew. Aria was following right behind him with Murphy and Nabil muttering complaints between them. She sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother and ran to walk next to their guide. Before long the outline of a market was on the horizon, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She was starving and her feet were sore. Holding her robe close to her, she glanced up at Pero from the corner of her eye. She’d caught him gazing at her before he straightened and his eyes darted forward. “Who were those men?” she asked.

He sighed and adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “Members of some tribe or group that protects Aten,” he muttered, “or at least I think that’s their job. I’ve run into them the last two times. They’re Bedouin, I believe.”

“They attacked us in Cairo,” she admitted, “when Murphy first showed me the map he’d stolen from you.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Did they get the map?”

She nodded. “This time they were asking about a key.”

Frowning, Pero looked out across the sands. Murphy hadn’t stolen a key from him, unless there was something more to that box than he initially thought.

“Will they be back?”

Pero stopped and looked at her. He could see the fear in her eyes. She was not prepared for this, and he took part of the blame. He should have warned her better about what they were facing. On top of whatever was underneath the sand there, the land was littered with the blood of those the Bedouin deemed as trespassers. “Yes,” he sighed, “they will. But they know me, and they know not to fuck with my group. Honestly, I'm more worried about Beckett than I am the raiders.”

“James?” She asked with a smile. “But I quite enjoyed his company.”

Rolling his eyes, Pero pushed on. He couldn’t understand why her interest in Beckett bothered him so. Regardless of the reason he was choosing to avoid, he didn’t want that man anywhere near him or his party. He knew too much about how he operated, and if there was one thing Pero despised most it was being vulnerable. “Aria,” he huffed as they continued their trek, “be careful with James. He’s a treasure hunter that only takes interest in something or someone if it’s worth anything to him. The second a better price comes along, he will sell you out.”

“Isn’t that how you see…” she paused and glanced at him, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “me?”

Pero stiffened. The short answer was yes, but the more time he spent with her - the more he sought opportunities to irritate her - that answer became more complex. It’d been a while since he’d felt any emotion outside the realm of mild annoyance. Taking a deep breath, he decided the best answer to give her was a professional, emotionless answer. “I’m true to my word and loyal enough that I won’t sell you out.”

He saw her deflate a little and turn her gaze away from him. “Oh,” she replied, “right. Of course.”

Her tone was different. Disappointed. He knew immediately that his answer was not the one she wanted. “What I meant was-”

“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Tovar,” she interrupted.

She moved to join Murphy, who was several paces behind them, when he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Aria.”

She gazed down at his grasp before looking up at him. “So long as my brother and I make it back home in one piece,” she affirmed, “you will still receive the payment you were promised.”

He dropped her hand and watched her help Murphy off the ground. He’d clearly stumbled in the sand, and now she was helping him dust off. Pero’s chest tightened the longer he gazed at her. He wasn’t used to being in the presence of a woman who’d stirred something in him. She challenged him in a way that he wasn’t sure agitated or thrilled him. She was fiery and way too stubborn for her own good; he liked it. It was fun and she kept him on his toes. He found himself smiling when a large shoulder knocked into him. “Careful there, Tovar,” Nabil said, “the desert is an unforgiving place for those unprepared.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes at the cheesy piece of advice. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Tell that to the stupid look you have on your face.” Nabil laughed and began singing another popular Egyptian song that was loud and wildly off key.

By early morning when they reached the small market, Aria had said very little to Pero since their talk about Beckett. When it came time to find supplies, he decided to task her with finding food and bedrolls. He even tried to joke with her about finding clothes for her to wear, but he was met with a cold stare and a feigned smile. He was left to watch Aria’s back as she walked away, ignoring his attempt to call after her. Murphy came up and slapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Not that I want to get involved in this,” he laughed, “but, you really fucked it up back there, mate.”

Pero glared at him. “You heard?”

“We’re four people roaming an empty desert with nothing else around. Of course I heard you.” He watched as Pero internally groaned, staring in the direction Aria disappeared.

“I didn’t mean to offend her,” he added, not really aware that he’d said that out loud.

Murphy and Nabil both laughed, pulling him towards a man selling camels and horses. “Are you having a laugh?” Murphy asked. “You’ve been trying to get her goat since the two of you met.”

He forced the two men to walk in front of him. “Murphy,” he spat, desperate to change the topic, “make yourself useful and secure our transportation.”

Murphy approached the merchant, shaking his head at Pero. He started bargaining with a man for four horses, but the man wanted to sell him all five in the herd. They started arguing, but Pero wasn’t paying any attention. He was staying alert, waiting for Aria to reappear in the market. She’d been gone for a while - too long for his liking. He started in the direction she went, asking if anyone had seen her. Finally, a woman nodded and pointed in the direction of a large tent just down the way from where he was. “Aria!” he called.

He heard some women murmur and giggle from inside the tent. “Aria!”

The tent door ruffled before a short, middle-aged woman flung it open and walked out, leading Aria in her own deep blue dress with a sheer veil covering her in typical Bedouin fashion and a thin golden belt that kept the layers wrapped together. Her hair had been brushed and twisted into a loose braid beneath the sheer fabric. In a word, she was bewitching. She glanced up at him with a smile, completely different from when they first arrived. He returned her smile when she stopped in front of him. “Were you worried I ran off with Mr. Beckett?” she softly asked.

He felt his face flush a little, but he managed to hide the emotions bubbling at the surface. “We’re ready to go,” he replied. Suddenly his mouth had gone dry, and he found himself struggling to take a deep breath.

She grinned and watched him shift nervously in front of her, his eyes suddenly averting from hers. Aria noticed he anxiously tugged at the sleeve over his makeshift bandage that had turned red. Frowning, she reached out to grab his hand. “You’ve bled through your bandage ,” she said, gently lifting his sleeve up.

“It’s nothing to be concerned over,” he replied, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was firm.

She slowly peeled back the dressing and saw a long gash down his forearm. Not having seen much of it from when he initially wrapped it himself, she started to feel guilty knowing he had sustained such an injury from protecting her. It wasn’t deep, luckily. “Let me help,” she suggested, “At least to clean and redress it properly.”

“Librarian, herbalist, and now doctor. Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked with a chuckle, following her back into the tent she’d just exited.

Aria smiled at him again before turning to one of the women and asking for medical supplies. “When you grow up with Murphy as your brother, you tend to acquire a unique set of skills.” Once the supplies were brought to her, she immediately began cleaning it. Pero winced, and she smiled almost bashfully, taking more care as she continued on with her work. He found himself enjoying her smile more than anything and made it his personal mission to find ways to make it appear more often. “For a man as tough as you, this hurts?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m not immune to pain, Aria,” he grumbled, “Mortal weapons can still kill me.” This drew a laugh out of her; it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he’d do anything to hear it again.

“Well, fortunately for us,” she added, “this is too far from your heart to kill you.” Aria went to place the bandage around his arm when she noticed the peculiar tattoo she’d seen at the prison. It was the Eye of Horus in the center of a pyramid with a circle that she assumed was the sun protruding from behind it. Pero noticed her gaze and froze as she traced it. “I’ve seen this symbol before.”

He didn’t move away from her, as he typically did when people saw his strange tattoo. He let her examine it, gliding her fingers across it. In a weird way, he enjoyed it. This was a new sensation to him, one that he didn’t want to end. He could feel knots in his stomach churn as his chest tightened, squeezing every last bit of air out of his lungs. “I’ve had this for as long as I can remember,” he softly replied, “I think I got it when I was still in the orphanage in Cairo.”

She looked up at him, sorrow in her gaze. “The orphanage?”

He nodded. “I ran away from one in Barcelona when I was twelve. I stowed away on a ship and ended up here where they tossed me right back into another one in Cairo. I left there when I was fifteen, and then spent the better part of my life job hopping until the War started.”

She glanced down at his tattoo again, lightly rubbing her thumb over it. “It’s a sign of protection,” she continued, “this is the -”

“Eye of Horus,” he said, “The Bedouin have the same tattoo.” Aria froze, staring at him with a mild panic in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not working for them. But their leader, Shakir Fahmy, once told me that it was the sign of the Medjai. He tried convincing me that it was my destiny to protect Aten from outsiders; that it is my duty to ensure the safety of the secrets that lie beneath the sand, instead of selling expeditions to the highest bidder.”

“If they have this tattoo, they’re not just any Bedouin tribe,” she replied, “those men after us are sa-en Medjai, Sons of the Medjai. I heard stories that they survived long after the Egyptian Empire fell, but never had I seen evidence of this being true.” She glanced down at his arm again before wrapping the bandage tight around it. “Mr. Tovar -”

“You can call me Pero,” he softly stated, holding her hand once she finished wrapping his injury.

Aria smiled at him again, leaning closer to him. “Pero,” she paused, letting the sweet sensation of his name felt rolling off her tongue sink in, “this must mean you are a Son of the Medjai.”

He chuckled. “What does that mean?”

He watched her light up, suddenly excited to share her knowledge with him. She talked fast and with such passion, he was pulled into this world she’d created and brought to life in front of him. “The Sons of the Medjai, according to records found in the Valley of Kings, were the elite of the Medjai. Not much is known of the Lost Dynasty, but it is said they were founded then. There have been references to them all over Ancient Egypt, and one thing has remained constant: they never leave the city of Thebes. They served no Pharoah, only Osiris himself. Their symbol was this,” she said, pointing to his tattoo, “a gift from their god to protect them while they served. Some records say they were warriors for Osiris against the armies of Set. Many believed that the Sons were sent by Osiris himself, born to the people instead of families.”

“Born to the people?”

She nodded feverently. “Yes. It means they had no family, but instead were raised by their village until they were old enough to take on their sacred duties.”

He coyly smiled at her. “So, what you’re saying is,” he softly said, moving closer to her, “I am a gift from the gods?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Pero,” she smirked. They were close enough that she could feel his lips lightly brushing against hers, when suddenly there was a commotion outside that forced them to move apart. He watched as her eyes averted from his and a deep burn spread across her face. He grinned and moved past her to see what the ruckus was. Murphy, of course, had dragged their transports through this part of the market, causing several of the merchants to yell at him, cursing him for knocking over a few stands. Pero growled, silently cursing her brother himself for ruining the moment. He stormed out of the tent, Aria following closely behind him, and grabbed the reins from Murphy, who was giving both of them a knowing smirk.

“Did I interrupt something?” Murphy asked, “The looks on your faces say it all.”

Glaring at the man, he turned the horses away from the market and grumbled loud enough for him to hear, “Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana.”

Murphy walked up next to Aria and bumped her shoulder with his. “Do I need to have a chat with him? You know, man-to-man?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at her brother. “You really are an idiot, Murph. I was dressing his wound from that ghastly man on the boat.”

He snickered and covered his mouth with his hand to hide it. Nabil was busying himself at a fruit stand, and Pero was now on the opposite side of the small village, waiting. Aria turned to Murphy and crossed her arms, in clear annoyance. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, “I just remember you said there was nothing to like there at all.”

Aria sighed. “We have to work together. I might as well make the best of this situation.”

She stormed off to join Pero. She watched him with a small smile while he calmed one of the horses that was spooked by a couple of children who ran by them. Her gaze caught his, and he returned his smile. All at once, he watched as his surroundings turned from the quiet, desert market to a brightly lit, gold-encrusted hallway. There were elaborate hieroglyphics and paintings on the walls with high arches on the left, open to the expanding city below. The sunset painted the sky with purples and oranges as a cool breeze drifted in from the Nile. In front of him was a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed in silky, white robes with an intricate headpiece that resembled a much smaller version of Isis’s headdress. She looked like a queen. As she walked toward him, he realized the strong resemblance she had with Aria. She was Aria but she wasn’t at the same time. She smiled when she reached him, wrapping her arm around his. He saw her mouth move, but he heard nothing come out. No sound, no words. He tried to listen, but all he heard was a muffled voice in the distance yell “Nefertari!” The woman turned to look in the direction of the voice. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before disappearing, taking the rest of this hallucination with her.

Pero reached up to touch his cheek. He felt her lips against his skin. Clearly still lost in his fantasy, he couldn’t hear Aria running forward calling his name until she was in front of him. The worry was written all over her face as she held his face in her hands to force him to look at her. His eyes were still glossy as they looked through her instead of at her. “Pero!” she cried, “What is it?”

He frowned, absorbing what happened. He was back in the small market, Aria was no longer dressed like the Egyptian royalty he’d just held in his arms. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he let out a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I-I-,” he was struggling.

“Pero,” she said, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, holding his head up.

“I think that blade was laced with something,” he said, “or I need water.”

Much to Aria’s horror, the color didn’t return to his now pale face. She helped him sit down on the low wall he was standing near. She waved for Murphy to grab water. “What’s wrong?”

He grabbed her wrists, gently running his thumbs up and down the insides of them to calm her. “I saw -” he paused. No, it’s best to keep what I saw to myself.

“What?”

“I’m not sure what. I think the desert heat is just getting to me.”

She was not convinced, but decided not to push it.

“The Pharoah returns and now he will die. Ausar and his queen will meet their fates again.”

The ghostly voice Aria had heard not three days ago had returned. She slowly glanced around for the source, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But when she looked back at Pero, she could see on his face that he had heard it too. The two remained holding each other’s gaze, each worried for what they would face the further into the desert they went.

Translations

Pinche gringos - Fucking gringos (white people)

Te dispararía ahora mismo si no tuviera un gran respeto por tu hermana. - I would shoot you right now if I didn't have high respect for your sister.

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@hb8301 @hnt-escape @stevie754

[alecmagnuslwb]

Twelve Rounds

Read on AO3

“You know on the scale of the Qresh heist, your best plan, and the Leith escape route, your worst fucking plan, this is somewhere way closer to Leith,” Magnus whisper yells in the small space between them.

They’re trapped in a closet, oh the fucking irony, with a couple dozen guards just on the outside, guards that the guy they’re supposed to be picking up and taking back to the Rack wasn’t supposed to have.

Alec just rolls his eyes wiggling a hand into the miniscule space between them to undo the latch on his thigh holster. The fact that Magnus is blaming this on him, when the plans only gone to hells because Magnus’ intel was bad. It’s not because of Alec’s plan, Alec’s plan was simple and efficient dammit.

“Easy in, easy out,” Magnus had said tossing the tablet across the table at Alec nearly knocking over the very expensive, treat himself glass of hawk Alec had ordered. “The guy’s not smart and has never so much as bought a weapon to protect himself, the trip alone to get him won’t be longer than twenty minutes. We pick him up, we bring him back, warrant done and we make an easy 500 joy.”

Alec had scrolled through the warrant, reading it with a doubting eye.

“This guy has had six warrants on him go untouched, you sure it’s that easy?” Alec had asked and Magnus had just waved it away the rings on his fingers glittering in the low light of the bar.

“I already sent out some feelers, the intel is good,” Magnus said with a smile. “He’s just not wanted for anything big so no one’s ever bothered going through with the pick-up, now the price has gotten a little higher and I think we should add a little padding to our current bank balance.”

Alec had sighed dropping the tablet down. “The ship still needs new nav panels, they’re about to fall off, babe.”

“Exactly and 500 joy will fix those right up and we’ll still have some leftover to get a room for the night, a fancy one at the Westerley Inn instead of above the bar, maybe for a few nights,” Magnus said leaning across the table getting incrementally closer and closer to Alec. “Think about it, Alexander. No sleeping in the cold ship, nice fresh warm sheets, no running out of hot water in five minutes.”

Alec had wanted to say no, fixing the nav panels before taking on another warrant, easy or not, should have been the priority. But after being Killjoy’s together for seven years, lovers for six and husbands for two he’d always found himself saying yes to every single request, idea and silly whim Magnus had ever had.

Alec let out a long-suffering breath, “Fine, let’s do it.”

Magnus had beamed leaning across the table to kiss him once before accepting the warrant and running off to the ship to get things ready. Alec had smiled, shaking his head in amusement at his husband.

Now he wishes he had a better resolve to just say no.

“I’m not the one who got bad intel,” Alec whisper yells back. “If your intel had been good my plan would have worked.”

Magnus scoffs attempting to cross his arms in annoyance but realizes at the last minute there isn’t enough room to do so. He settles for poking Alec in the side once instead.

“Really?” Alec whispers looking incredulously at Magnus. Magnus just shrugs huffing in annoyance.

“How was I supposed to know the intel was bad,” he argues. “It was from a trusted source.”

“Jace is not a trusted source, if you had told me it was Jace of all people I never would have even agreed to take the warrant in the first place,” Alec whisper shouts back. He feels ridiculous whisper fighting with his husband in a poorly lit linen closet. They should be playfully bantering to the annoyance of their catch with a completed warrant in their hands right now.

“He’s your brother,” Magnus hisses back.

“Exactly and I know just how stupid he is,” Alec replies attempting to wave his hands around as he speaks angrily the way he likes to. He gives up after a second realizing there’s just not enough space to do that. “He fights, he’s a great shot, but his intel is garbage because he never thinks ahead. Simon is who you get the intel from.”

Magnus sighs and Alec can tell from the look on his face he knows Alec’s right.

“I have half the mind to just slip out of here and call it all off n-” Alec starts, but Magnus lifts a hand slapping it over Alec’s mouth silencing him. Through the closet doors Alec hears the slow purposeful footsteps of at least six people maybe closer to eight walking outside.

Magnus drops his hand but not until the footsteps have disappeared.

“Good news I think they’ve given up searching for us in the house,” he whispers biting his glossy bottom lip in thought.

“Bad news there are two dozen of them and there’s two of us,” Alec replies. “Not to mention the guy we’re supposed to be taking with us.” He tacks on suddenly remembering the whole point of this at the last moment.

“We’ve faced worse odds and lived to drink about it,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec’s face doesn’t budge determined to hold onto his stony annoyance.

Magnus sighs tilting his head and slipping his arms around Alec’s waist. “I’m sorry my intel was bad and that your brother is stupid,” he says pouting in that frustratingly fake, but frustratingly sexy way that Alec never can quite resist. “And also that you’re plan sucked.”

Alec huffs out a breath unable to fight the smile creeping at the corner of his lips.

“You fully loaded?” Alec asks tapping at the side of Magnus’ thigh holster.

“For you?” he says shifting his hips up against Alec’s. “Always.”

“Magnus, be serious,” Alec says not able to resist shifting is own hips back in retaliation.

Magnus groans then his face goes fully solemn. “I’m always serious about you and my load.”

Alec only barely stops the laugh he lets out from being too loud. He is married to a ridiculous, brilliant, beautiful man.

“Twelve rounds a piece, that’s one shot per guard for both of us. And then the hopes that the idiot we need to catch doesn’t count them or doesn’t know how many are in a sidearm and buys it when we threaten to shoot him too,” Alec says pointedly shifting a bit to the side so their hips are no longer pressed together, trying to ignore the thoughts Magnus’ completely unsubtle innuendos put inside his head.

“Don’t miss,” Magnus says with a wicked smirk unholstering his weapon and bringing it up to the ready. Alec does the same with a matching smirk of his own.

“For you?” he says winking once before reaching his hand above Magnus to push open the closet door. “I never do.”

Magnus chuckles delighted and uncaring if the guards hear them as Alec shoves open the door. Magnus spins gracefully his electric blue ammunition flying down the hall instantly hitting through the wrist of the first reacting guard. Alec moves behind him the two of them working in perfect tandem like they always do bobbing and weaving as they should around and over one another disarming the guards one by one hitting them in just the right spots to take them down, but keep them alive.

They’re not here on a kill warrant and even if they were they’re not fans of taking out more than the target anyways. They’re only getting paid for them in the end.

Alec ducks behind a near wall Magnus covering him as he heads towards the door of the house already wide open the hot Westerley desert air blowing inside.

“Shit,” he says harshly just before catching sight of one of the last guards hovering outside of the door. Putrid yellow ammunition makes its way around the corner narrowly missing him. Alec ducks behind a shitty looking old couch that reminds him annoyingly of the chair he never saw his father get up from as a child.

Magnus comes sliding in next to him a grin on his face. “Got mine,” he says popping his head up once over the edge of the chair. Another round of ammo whizzes past him, actually grazing the stark neon pink patch of hair at the front of his head.

“Well he’s almost out of ammo, or he’s a terrible shot,” Magnus says ducking back down quickly.

“We’re also almost out of ammo, I’ve got one round for this one guy,” Alec says. He takes a deep collecting breath. He dips his head around the corner of the chair catching sight of the guard in the reflection from the window. The guard doesn’t take a shot despite Alec’s vulnerable position which tells him he’s definitely down to his last round as well.

He starts to make the move to take his final shot changing course at the last second.

“Switch me,” Alec says to Magnus holding out his gun. Magnus doesn’t question him taking the weapon and unholstering his own empty one and placing it in Alec’s hand.

“Shoot high and cover me,” he says not bothering with a countdown knowing Magnus will know exactly when to take his shot. He moves from his safe spot behind the chair immediately staying low.

The guard shifts just slightly from his perfectly shielded position taking his final shot at Alec just a shy too wide. Magnus takes that as his queue just as Alec’s about to reach the doorway shooting once high into the wall roughly right above the guard’s head startling him into a crouch.

When he stands to his full height Alec’s right in front of him waiting with a big smile.

“Hi,” he says with a large grin raising the base of his gun and smacking it into the center of the guy’s forehead hard just once knocking him fully unconscious.

Magnus sidles up behind him standing up on his toes just a bit to look over his shoulder at the unconscious man.

“Technically you missed,” Alec says turning to look at him over his shoulder. Magnus chuckles.

“You told me to, I was just being a good husband and listening,” he says holstering the empty weapon. “We should go find the warrant.”

Alec nods pointing over to a wooden barrel tilted up against the side of the house. Magnus gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me look’ before walking over to the barrel kicking it once dislodging the lid as it goes down.

And out comes tumbling the mark with a high-pitched screech.

“No tracks?” Magnus asks gesturing to the clear sand before them guessing that’s how Alec knew he was in the barrel.

Alec shakes his head. “This one,” Alec explains pointing to the unconscious guard at his feet. “Shot his eyes over to that barrel right before I knocked him out cold, so either he really loves pickles or..”

“You should have hired better security,” Magnus says lifting the man up from the ground cuffing his hands together behind his back.

“Raj Laghari you are being taken into custody for six active level three warrants against you ranging from petty theft to extortion, you’ll be taken to the Rack where you will await further charges, trial or imprisonment as seen fit,” Magnus rattles off pushing the guy along in front of him.

Raj starts crying and Alec just rolls his eyes. This guy is an idiot, that much intel was right. They walk quietly back to their ship locking Raj up in the cargo hold before prepping the wavering nav to take them back to the Rack.

“I can’t believe you were going to try and call it off you know how it goes,” Magnus says tossing himself into the chair at the head of the ship. “The warrant is all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alec says casually, Magnus knows he’s loyal to the code even when he’s frustrated. One of these days a quick and easy job is going to be just that.

Alec slips into Magnus’ lap uncaring that he’s taller and that this chair is far too small to fit both of them comfortably.

“Fuck the nav system, we’re staying a full week at the Inn,” he says tiredly pressing a light kiss to Magnus’ temple.

“Hells yes,” Magnus says in glee kicking the nav switch with his foot before pulling Alec in for a proper kiss.

[viastro]

cafe chuu | lee chan

ミ★ synopsis: in which chan works at a cafe and you come in everyday asking for him to make you a surprise drink. [requested by @dreamingmira​]

ミ★ genre: barista!chan, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 3,290

ミ★ pairings: chan x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! this was requested like over a month ago by @dreamingmira​! this is so long overdue i am so sorry omg. make sure to give lots of love to our boy, lee chan ! i hope you guys like it <3

“Ooo, here comes the guy who boosts all our sales!” Chan rolls his eyes at Soonyoung’s comment, walking into the backroom to put on his apron. 

“Shut up.” Chan says with a smile, taking off his jacket and putting it into his locker. Soonyoung leans against the wall, chuckling as he watches his friend tie the back of his apron on with ease. Yeri walks into the room to grab her water bottle from her locker, giving Chan a playful wink and finger guns, “He wasn’t lying though.”

“We just make good drinks!” Chan argues, and Yeri chuckles.

“Just admit it Chan, everyone develops a crush on you as you take their order. That’s why we have so many regulars! Did you know that every time I’m at the register someone asks me where you are?” Yeri tells him, wiggling her eyebrows for good measure. Soonyoung laughs at the expression on her face, causing Chan to chuckle as well. 

“You guys are crazy.” He mutters, turning around after closing his locker. He runs a hand through his hair before walking towards the front counter, ignoring the quiet squeals Soonyoung and Yeri make from behind him. Well, attempts to ignore.

“I’m your biggest fan! Can you kiss my coffee cup?”

“Can I have a mocha... with you on the side?”

“Oh my god! Good one Soonie!”

“Thank you, I try. I really try.” 

“I hate it here.” Chan says, causing Soonyoung and Yeri to crack up. He walks up to the counter, and closes his eyes once he realizes how many people are waiting in line. Soonyoung nudges him from behind, and Yeri giggles before heading over to the sink to wash her hands. 

“Hi welcome to Cafe Chuu, what can I get started for you?” Chan asks with a smile on his face, and he notices a blush immediately form on her cheeks. 

“U-um… you…”

“What?”

“I mean! What’s your best drink here?” Chan bites the inside of his cheek when he hears Soonyoung and Yeri start snickering behind him, and he has half the mind to turn around and pinch both of them. He lets out a breath, before giving the customer a smile.

“Well, I’d say…”

“Thank you! Come again.” The customer turns around and waves at Chan, before heading out the door, giggling with her friends. Chan lets out a small sigh, turning around and leaning back against the counter. It’s almost the end of his shift, and he’s quite literally exhausted from how many orders he had to take, as well as how many of them he had to make. 

“Head’s up Chan, someone’s walking in.” Soonyoung calls out from the sink, causing Chan to turn around and face the front of the shop. His eyes widen slightly when you open the door, the setting sun hitting your skin in a way that makes it appear as if you’re glowing. You run a hand through your hair, letting out a small huff as you walk up to the counter, staring up at the menu.

Yeri and Soonyoung both exchange looks as they take in Chan’s awe-struck state. It’s the first time they’ve ever seen him be like that rather than it being the customer. Yeri takes the chance to look at you, and she grins at the fact that you’re not bursting at the seams because of Chan.

“What a turn of events.” Yeri mutters, giggling to herself as she turns back to clean up the area near all the syrup. 

mmm, not really wanting a cappuccino right now… you think to yourself. You raise a finger to your lips, and Chan watches as you place it in between your teeth as you continue to try and decide what drink to order. Soonyoung turns and sees Chan with his eyes wide, bright blush on his cheeks as he stares at you, and he chuckles. 

You just got out of “work” at the advertising company you intern at, and you’re fucking thirsty. Not for water, no, you chugged a shit ton of that at work. Instead, you’re thirsty for a drink you’re unsure of at the moment. It’s one of those moments where you want to drink something but everything that comes to mind just… doesn’t feel right.

don’t really want hot chocolate either… you purse your lips to the side, before looking straight ahead and making direct eye contact with the oh neptune.

The cashier is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your 20 years of living. His hair is parted slightly to the side, showing a sliver of his forehead. He’s wearing specs and a sweater, overall giving him a soft aura. You find yourself internally quaking at the fact that he’s so pretty until you remember that you have a drink to order.

“Hi.” You greet, a grin breaking out onto your face when he just blinks at you. 

chan’s brain: ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod

“Hello?” You say again, and that’s when the handsome cashier snaps out of it. He runs a hand through his hair, another blush forming on his cheeks at the fact that he literally just got caught staring at you in awe. He gives you a small smile, and you find yourself smiling back. 

“H-hi! Welcome to Cafe Chuu. What would you like to order?” Chan stutters, and you hold yourself back from cooing at him. 

pull yourself together bitch.

“Surprise me.” You tell him, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Surprise you?”

You nod your head, giving him finger guns, to which he lets out a startled laugh. He tilts his head to the side, before grinning and inputting a number into the register. You get ready to take out your card, only for him to just hand you a receipt. He turns around to begin preparing your drink, and you look at him with a confused expression.

“But I didn’t pay?” Chan looks over at you, giving you a warm smile. “It’s okay, it’s on me.” 

Your eyes glance down to his nametag, Chan. You raise your hand up your arm, rubbing your bicep as warmth floods your face. You nod your head at him, “Thank you, Chan.” 

“Of course. The drink will be ready in five minutes or so, you can go and sit at the tables while you wait.” He tells you, and you nod your head, walking over towards an empty seat. Once you’re far enough, Chan turns back towards the blender and lets out a breath, raising his hand up to his chest just to rub the area where his heart is. 

“Oooo~ does our star employee have a crush?” 

“I think he does~”

“That’s so cute~” Chan rolls his eyes at their teasing from behind him, reaching over towards the syrup and grabbing the lavender flavored one. You rest your chin on your hand, watching him from your seat as he prepares your drink. 

he has broad shoulders… epic… 

“Are you making a lavender latte?” Yeri asks in amazement as Chan pours the freshly brewed coffee into the container. He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on adding the lavender syrup and stirring it. 

“Yes he is.” Soonyoung answers for Chan, giving his friend the thumbs up when he nods his head at him. Soonyoung and Yeri both step up closer behind Chan, watching as he carefully pours the milk on top of the sweet lavender flavored coffee. 

“It smells good…” Yeri mutters as she takes a whiff of the drink, to which Chan chuckles. 

“I’ll make you some after this customer leaves. She wanted me to surprise her, so I did something that’s not on the menu.” Chan explains, and Yeri grins. 

“Okay, cool guy.” Chan chooses to ignore that comment in favor of putting on the lid and protective sleeve over the cup. Soonyoung and Yeri watch as he heads over to your table instead of calling out your order number, beginning to giggle to themselves.

“My God, I’ve never seen Chan whipped for someone before.” 

“This is the craziest day ever. Write this shit down in the calendar, we have to celebrate this day every year. It’s a new holiday.” Soonyoung hurriedly whispers, causing Yeri to reach for a pen and run over to the calendar on the wall. 

“Hi, here’s your surprise drink.” Chan tells you with a smile, placing the cup carefully onto your table. You get a whiff of the drink, turning to the cute barista and giving him an excited grin. “It smells sweet, which is perfect because I literally have a stroke when I drink coffee that doesn’t have any creamer or sugar.” Chan laughs at your comment, and you feel your heart warm at the fact that you were able to make him let out that wonderful sound. 

“I hope you like it.” Chan says softly, before turning around and walking back to the counter. You let out a small smile, looking down at the drink on the table. You pick it up, blowing the hole in the lid to try and cool it down. 

Chan, Soonyoung, and Yeri watch your reaction as you finally take a small sip. Chan lets out a breath of relief when he sees your eyes widen in surprise, a smile gracing your features as you move to take a larger sip. Yeri and Soonyoung grin at Chan, finding him acting like an awestruck puppy rather endearing. 

You stand up from the table, drink in hand as you walk towards the exit. You place your hand on the door handle, before turning around to glance at Chan. Soonyoung and Yeri immediately duck behind the counter as you turn, and Chan has to hold back his laugh. You give him a small wave, “Bye Chan, thank you for the coffee.” 

He waves back at you, and you watch as his eyes sparkle at you, “I’m glad you liked it!” 

And with that, you turn and walk out of the cafe. 

While Chan sinks to his knees, letting out a happy squeal into his hands. Soonyoung and Yeri immediately hound him, teasing him for every little thing.

“Hi welcome to Cafe Chuu-” The words die in Chan’s mouth as he looks up from the register, locking eyes with you. You have half your hair tied back, and he takes notice of the pink ribbon in your hair and he almost explodes. You’re staring at him with a shy smile on your face, and he lets out a breath at your beauty.

“Hi Chan.”

“Hi.” He breathes, and Soonyoung chuckles at how awestruck his friend is once again. 

it’s been like one day and he’s still in awe, he thinks to himself as he watches the tips of Chan’s ears turn red. 

“W-what would you like to order?” Chan stutters, and he looks down at the floor, reaching his fist up to his mouth and biting it at the fact that he fucking stuttered. He internally curses himself, but you giggle at his nervousness. He lowers his fist at the sound, looking up and seeing you smiling at him. 

“Cute.” You mutter, before looking back up at the menu, thinking about what to order. Chan bites back a grin, trying not to giggle like a baby at the fact that you called him cute.

me!! she thinks i’m cute!!!

“Chan?”

“Yes?”

“Can you give me another surprise drink?” You ask, looking down from the menu and making eye contact with him. He purses his lips, before giving you a thumbs up. “Heck yeah I can.” 

“Let me pay for it this time!” You add, handing him your debit card. Chan chuckles, taking it from you and swiping it, before giving it back to you. You flash a bright smile, shooting him finger guns once again. “I’m excited for what you’ll make me this time.”

“You have too much faith in me…” Chan trails off as he doesn’t know your name, and you feel your heartbeat wildly in your chest as he waits for you to tell him. 

“Yn, my name is yn.” 

“Yn… that’s a beautiful name.” He mutters softly, and you feel heat rise to your face. You immediately turn around and walk towards an empty table, cupping your cheeks with your hands to try and make the warmth go away. Chan watches you walk away, a lovestruck smile on his face. 

“I’ll take over the register, you go make her drink.” Yeri says from behind him, snapping him out of his daze. Chan thanks her, patting her shoulder before walking over to the different tea assortments. He grabs the matcha green tea, officially getting into business.

You watch him from your table, the small smile never leaving your features as he makes your drink. You feel your heart skip a beat when he looks up at his coworker, letting out a laugh laugh at a joke he makes. You cannot believe that someone like him exists, being both handsome, cute, and sweet all at the same time.

i bet he even feeds stray cats. 

Chan turns and locks eyes with you, giving you an excited grin and pointing at the cup of milk he just frothed. Your small smile grows even bigger, lifting your hands up and making a thumbs up. Now satisfied with your reaction, he goes back to preparing your drink.

oh my god i bet he respects elders.

Chan carefully pours the tea into the cup, then the froth over the tea. He sprinkles a bit of matcha powder mixed with sugar over the frothed milk, before putting on the lid and the protective sleeve. He walks over to you, ignoring the stares you and him receive as he places it onto the table. 

“How come he never delivers the drink to me when I order?”

“Is this a new company policy? If so, I love it.”

“Ugh, he’s so cute.”

“Ooo, I saw you using matcha back there. I’m excited.” You tell Chan, and he grins down at you. You carefully take a sip, and your eyes widen once again at how tasty it is. You look up at him, giving him a thumbs up, and he smiles widely. 

“It’s so good! Thank you Channie!” His eyes almost bulge out at the nickname, and he turns and coughs into his elbow to try and hide the growing blush on his cheeks. “Y-you’re welcome yn.” 

“Really, this is so good.” 

“I’m happy you like it.” Chan says shyly, and you smile. He turns around at the sound of Soonyoung having trouble with the register, and he chuckles. “Duty calls!” 

You wave at him as he turns around and walks off, and this time he shoots finger guns at you, causing you to laugh. He grins happily, returning to register and giving a kind smile to the customer waiting to order.

“Hi! Welcome to Cafe Chuu, what would you like to order?”

Chan lets out a sigh, taking a sip of water as he hangs up his apron. It’s the end of his shift, and he’s ready to go home. At the same time, he doesn’t want to head home just yet, and that’s for one reason and one reason only.

You didn’t visit today.

It’s been a month since you first came to the cafe, and you’ve visited everyday since then. Or at least, every time Chan is on his shift. The two of you have somehow gotten closer. If the cafe was busy? Then he’d just write a cute note on your cup and deliver it to your table. If there weren’t many customers? He’d sit across from you after handing you a drink, and the two of you would get to know each other. 

Chan discovered that your favorite flowers are lilies, and you find the sky to be prettiest when the sun rises. Not when it’s a foggy morning and you can’t see anything, but when the sky has brilliant splashes of pink, orange, and sometimes purple as the sun rises across the horizon. It fills you with a sense of calm.

While you learned that Chan’s a dancer, and he works hard to master his craft. He goes to work during the day, then at night he goes to a studio and creates choreography. You also found out that Chan does, indeed, feed stray cats outside of his apartment complex.

the epitome of a good man.

Chan likes you. He likes you a lot. Seeing you come into the cafe, whether it be in the evening after you got off your shift, or early in the morning before you go to the subway, just being able to witness your smile has him in a good mood for the rest of the day. He’s come to look forward to your visits, so you not coming today has him in a bit of a sad mood. Soonyoung and Yeri noticed, both letting out giggles at how upset he looks as he steps out of the backroom. Chan glances up at them, giving them a glare, before walking over towards the door. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow Channie!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mutters, stepping out of the cafe. He takes in a deep breath of the fresh night air, feeling a wave of relief hit him. He turns, beginning to walk towards his apartment complex as the stars begin to come out. 

Chan lets out a small sigh after a few minutes of walking, “I wish she came today.”

“Chan!”

“It’s like I can still hear her.” He says softly, simply coming to terms with the fact that he just imagined you calling his name. It’s not like you were running towards him from behind, trying to get his attention or anything.

“Channie!!” 

“Damn, it really is like I can still hear her.”

“Lee Chan!” Chan finally turns around at the third call of his name, realizing that he’s not just imagining it. His eyes widen when he sees you running towards him, a smile on your face when you finally catch his eyes. As soon as you’re a few feet in front of him, you double over, wheezing. 

“Holy SHIT. I haven’t ran that fast in like... three years.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just. Zoo wee mama.” You suck in another breath, before standing straight up, giving Chan an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just got out of my intern thing. Boss kept me a bit later to try and teach me a new program on the computer. Training stuff, you know the deets.” 

“Oh! It’s okay yn, don’t worry.” You let out another breath, trying to hold back your giggles as you recall Yeri and Soonyoung telling you that Chan was moping around during the end of his shift when he realized you weren’t coming. However, as soon as they told you he left, you ran in the direction they told you he went in until you finally saw him. 

whipped !!

“I, uh. Do you wanna go eat at the convenience store with me? I didn’t have dinner yet.” You offer, and Chan stares at you with the familiar awestruck expression you’ve gotten used to. He lets out a soft smile, nodding his head as he looks into your eyes with nothing but adoration. “I’d love to.”

You hold your hand out, and he glances down at it for a moment. Slowly he reaches out, intertwining his fingers with yours. You let out a breath, finding that your hand fits his like a glove. 

a perfect match. 

“Let’s go eat unhealthy ramyun!”

“How many are you going to eat?”

“Probably like, three.”

“Jesus Christ yn.”

“What else did you expect? I come to the cafe everyday and ask for a surprise drink with lots of sugar, this should be expected.”

“I hate how right you are.”

[after-avenging-hours]

Out of Time [2]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary:  After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 5766

Warnings: Major character injury, triaging a wound, blood, stitches, gets a bit feelsy at the end

“Whoa! Hang on!” He doesn’t quite have the strength to keep you standing. But he follows you down as you collapse to make sure you don’t hurt yourself even more. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your body into a frame much smaller than you’re used to.

The gun in your hand clatters to the floor and you then press that hand into your throbbing side.

Steve blanches when he sees the weapon. “Is that yours?” he questions.

You shake your head weakly. “No. It was one of theirs.”

His brows raise in surprise. He knows that dames carrying weapons were more likely to have them taken by their assailants, not the other way around.

You look down at the hand clutched to your side, peeling your palm back to see that it’s completely covered in red. “Shit,” you curse, gritting your teeth. You close your eyes tight and tilt your head back against the brick wall, attempting to will the pain away, so it’s not completely clouding your senses.

Steve follows your line of sight and pales when he sees your blood. “Oh my God… I need to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Your eyes snap open and you grip the collar of his shirt. “No hospitals,” You urge. You can’t be tied down to a hospital bed and potentially miss your window of opportunity. “I just,” you huff, your head dizzy now from the rapid movement. “Need to get someplace safe.”

“Miss… You’ve been shot. If we don’t get you-”

Your groan of pain cuts him off as you push yourself into a more upright position. “Is there blood on my back?” you question breathlessly.

“Wha-” Steve gapes for a second, before leaning over your body to check. “Yes…” he confirms. “A lot.” He leans back once more the look of concern returning to his eyes tenfold.

“That’s actually a good thing.” You tell him. “Means it’s a clean shot. Through and through. A hospital’s not going to be able to do anything that I can’t do myself with a bit of first aid.”

Steve finds himself only wanting to ask more questions, but he knows if you don’t start applying that first aid quickly, then you really will need a hospital. “My apartment is just around the corner,” he offers without thought.

More likely to run straight into trouble rather than think things through, it doesn’t even cross Steve’s mind that maybe he shouldn’t get mixed up in whatever this is. He grabs the gun, knowing that it wouldn’t be a good idea to just leave it behind. He looks around the alley to make sure there aren’t any other witnesses.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asks, almost wishing Bucky was around to carry you, but he knows Barnes would have his head over this.

You nod once, shifting one arm around his shoulders while removing the one from your side to grip the brick wall for purchase. You mentally count to three before pushing yourself up, Steve trying to do what he can to help. You release a guttural cry of pain with the movement and your vision goes black for a second. You hold still, keeping your grip on Steve and on the wall while you huff for breath.

You wait for your vision to clear and for your head to stop spinning before you give Steve a nod. “Okay. Let’s go.” You bite your lip to keep your whimpers in while you limp along with Steve holding you up.

It’s slow progress to make it down the alley and into a small courtyard area surrounded by apartment buildings. “I’m on the second floor,” Steve gives you an apologetic look when you reach the base of a set of metal stairs.

You release a long breath and grit your teeth before taking them on. Each step feels like an icepick getting jammed into your side. You nearly pass out after reaching the top but managed to keep it together a few more steps to reach his front door.

Steve is immensely grateful that he remembered his key this morning and doesn’t need to fumble around looking for it. The door opens with a push and he quickly shuffles you inside. He helps to lower your body onto the modest brown couch in his living room that Bucky got from him at a yard sale. The cushions are a little stained, no matter how he’s tried to clean them, the pillows are mismatched, and there’s a soft floral perfume scent permanently attached to the thing from the previous owner.

You give yourself a second to catch your breath before you begin pulling your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your skirt and start undoing the buttons. Steve’s eyes widen and his ears turn pink when you completely remove your top. You catch the way that he stares and would laugh if you weren’t in so much pain. You mentally pat yourself on the back for getting the vintage lingerie set for Steve’s birthday a few years ago. It certainly came in handy to keep your whole outfit authentic.

“Do you have clean linen and hot water?” you ask, needing to give him something to do for a quick moment.

He snaps out of it and nods. “Yeah,” he confirms before disappearing deeper into the apartment.

You wait for a second to make sure he’s really gone before hiking up your skirt to unclip the small pouch you have attached to your thigh holster. Opening the pouch, you turn it over to dump the contents onto the couch cushion next to you. A slim metal case, about the size and shape of a smartphone, falls out first, followed by what may appear to be a series of Barbie doll accessories. There’s a tiny red bag with a white cross that you pick out from the items.

Everything else goes back into the pouch before you open the metal case and reveal the series of discs inside. The ones on the left have red in their center, while the ones on the right have blue. You take a blue disc and throw it at the miniature first aid bag, allowing it to grow back to normal size.

“Thank you, Scott Lang,” you mutter under your breath, closing the metal case and returning it to the pouch. You clip the pouch back to your thigh holster and pull your skirt back down.

You have the first aid bag open and are rifling through the various compartments when Steve comes back into the room. He stops short and looks at you with confusion. “…Where did you get that?”

You turn to see him standing in the doorway, a few hand towels draped over his shoulder while he carries a large ceramic bowl. “Oh, that’s perfect.” You indicate for him to bring the items over. Ignoring his question.

Pulling a packet of painkillers from your kit, you rip open the foil and take them dry. You follow that up with a drop of hand sanitizer into your palm and work the liquid gel over your hands and between your fingers. Steve places the bowl of water at your feet and kneels down next to it. You then hand him the bottle of sanitizer.

“What is this?” he questions.

“Isopropyl alcohol mixed with aloe gel. It will disinfect your hands. You just need a small drop.”

“Okay…” he looks a little unsure, but follows your lead and drops some into his palm. He hands the bottle back and mimics your earlier movement to spread the gel. He then drops a towel into the bowl, letting it soak up the water before he wrings it out and folds it into a neat square.

You thank him softly when he hands it to you and you then press it to the wound on your front. “Can you get the exit wound?” you ask.

He nods once, wringing out a second towel and then presses it firmly to your back. He tries his best to keep his focus on the task at hand, despite having your breasts, pretty much at eye level. Before this, the closest he’s ever been to seeing a woman dressed in only a brasserie is the mannequins at Macy’s. What in the world would Bucky think, if he found out there was a half-naked woman in Steve’s apartment right now? The bastard would probably congratulate him, honestly.

“That should be good enough.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Just clear the dried blood from around the wound.” You’ve gone back to rifling in your kit and pull out a small aerosol canister. The cap comes off with a pop and you quickly aim and spray directly onto the wound at your front. The substance inside comes out as a sort of gel spray, but soon begins to froth and bubble where it makes contact with the wound. “Here,” you give the can to Steve.

He takes it hesitantly. “That looks like it hurts.”

You laugh dryly. “It’s a gunshot wound. It already hurts.”

Can’t argue with that. Steve aims the canister and sprays the mystery substance onto your back wound. You take the canister back, cap it, and put it away. You can already feel the gel beginning to work its magic. Given to you by Shuri during one of your visits with Steve to Wakanda, the gel was a coagulant to stop bleeding, but also could promote cell regeneration to expedite the healing process, and even worked as a numbing agent to dull the pain. It certainly helps when getting to this next part.

“How are you with needles?” you ask, pulling out a curved needle and some stitching thread next.

He gulps audibly before he slowly nods. He and Bucky have had to stitch each other up, more than a few times, but neither of them were surgeons by any means.

Seeing the worry on his face, you try to ease his fears. “It doesn’t need to be perfect, just enough to keep the wound closed. The gel will be able to take care of the rest.”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking the needle and thread from you.

With the gel and the painkillers beginning to take over, you finally have a clear enough head to actually be able to take him in. It’s a little strange seeing him like this in person. You’d seen the photo that gets taken at Camp Lehigh and your Steve had eventually opened up enough to paint his own picture of what his life had been like pre-serum. But you never thought you’d see it with your own eyes.

His clothes hang loose around his frame, nearly engulfing him. The air of stoic confidence you’d grown used to is nowhere to be seen. His shoulders are rigid, back tense, and he almost looks a little uncomfortable to be so close to you. That’s certainly different. The Steve you knew had always been comfortable around you, even from the day you met.

You had been working at the SHIELD Headquarters in New York when Steve’s body was found in the Arctic. You didn’t actually get a chance to meet him at the point, and after the Battle of New York, you were relocated to the other side of the country. Then, after SHIELD fell, you ended up moving overseas. It wasn’t until after the whole Ultron fiasco that you were recruited by Natasha to check out the Avenger’s compound in upstate New York.

You’ll never forget the look on his face when Nat stepped out of the way to introduce you. His eyes had lit up like the sun peeking out behind a cloud and when he smiled your heart had stopped. You’re also pretty sure you may have swooned a little. He shook your hand and held it tight. You remember how he had looked deeply into your eyes like he was seeing into your very soul, and then his gaze flickered all over your face like he was painting your picture in his mind. He then welcomed you to the Avengers, without even giving you an initiation test.

You try to find hints of that Steve in this one. The more you look, the easier they are to find. The eyes are obvious. Highly expressive that he has a hard time concealing his emotions. His brows still furrow the same when he’s trying to concentrate. His ears are still red, which is a good sign. This means he’s not completely unaffected by you.

“My name’s Vic, by the way,” you introduce yourself just as he’s finishing up the stitching on your front wound.

His gaze lifts up to meet yours. “Steve. Though, somehow you already seem to know that.”

You give him a look of confusion, trying to understand what he means, but then you recall saying his name when he first reached you in the alley. You quickly try to come up with an excuse. “I didn’t, actually. You look like someone I know. His name is also Steve,” you try to play off. Badly.

“Huh. Small world.” The corner of his mouth tilts up into the barest hint of a smirk. It’s still enough to make your heart race.

Even 95 pounds soaking wet, you’ve still got it bad for this man.

You hand him a pair of small surgical scissors to cut the thread. While he gets to work on stitching up your exit wound, you grab the supplies you need to finish triaging the front wound. You apply a small amount of disinfectant cream over the stitches before packing it with sterile gauze and taping the gauze to your skin. Steve helps you do the same on your back once he’s finished with the stitches there. After that, you take a long strip of self-adherent bandage tape to completely wrap your torso.

“That should do it. Thanks, Steve,” you send him a smile as you begin to pack up and close your first aid kit.

“Is that standard-issue?” Steve askes, nodding to your kit.

You breathe out a soft laugh. “Not quite,” you respond cryptically. “But a girl’s gotta be prepared.”

He raises a brow. “Do you often find yourself running into men with guns in back alleys?”

You mimic his look. “Do you often find yourself running toward the sound of gunfire rather than away?”

He blinks once, then shrugs, his shoulders relaxing a little. “More often than I should, if Bucky had anything to say about it.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing outright. “This Bucky sounds like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Maybe you should listen to him more often.”

He scoffs. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Trust me when I tell you that getting shot really isn’t high on the list of things I’d consider fun,” you tell him with a grimace.

That sobers him. “No, I imagine it wouldn’t.” He drops his gaze and busies himself by rinsing your blood off his hands with the water in the bowl that has started to turn pink. “So, what does ‘Lady V’ mean?” he asks, the curiosity getting to him.

He looks up and catches the confusion in your eyes before his gaze drops to your chest. You realize he’s talking about the tattoo written in a curling script below your right collar bone, the letters framed on either side by a pair of small wings. Your Steve had actually been the one to design it for you.

“It stands for Lady Victory,” you explain. “It’s my code name.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You’re an agent?” he questions like he can’t believe it. His cheeks then flush as he attempts to backtrack. “I mean- not that you couldn’t be. It’s just you’re so beautiful, you could have been anything. And not that there’s anything wrong with being an agent, it’s just-”

“Steve…” You say his name gently, trying to get him to breathe, while a smile of amusement creeps onto your face.

“Sorry,” he mutters, dropping his gaze once more and releases a long breath. “Just, why go for something that’s so high risk?”

You take a moment to compose your thoughts, trying to figure out how best to answer his question. “We all have things that call to us. Be it duty or a sense of purpose… I don’t know. It just always felt like the right path for me. And believe it or not, looking like just another pretty face can actually be advantageous in this line of work. People will often underestimate you.”

Steve releases a long sigh. “The underestimating part I could handle. Been dealing with that my whole life. But I can’t even get enlisted. They take one look at my medical record and write me off before even giving me a chance. How did you do it?”

You realize where he’s trying to steer the conversation. At this point, he would have already tried to enlist and thus been rejected, four times. “Just because it’s the right path doesn’t mean it’s the easiest. Keep trying. Keep moving forward and eventually, you’ll end up where you’re meant to be.”

He shoots you a wry smile. “You make it sound so simple.”

You huff out a laugh. “Oh, it’s definitely not. But if it were, it wouldn’t be quite as satisfying when you finally succeed.”

He releases a low hum, letting your words sink in. “So, Lady Victory…” he says like he’s tasting the words in his mouth. “Is that where ‘Vic’ comes from?”

“It is,” you confirm.

He nods like he’s pondering over something else. “A guy takes you in off the street, then helps you patch up a bullet wound, and you don’t even give him your real name?”

You can’t help but grin at his cheekiness.

“I mean, Bucky probably won’t even believe the story to begin with.”

That promptly wipes the grin from your face. “Steve, you can’t tell anyone that I was here. Not even Bucky,” you urge desperately. You’re already terrified that there are going to be ramifications from this interaction, you have to try to prevent it from rippling out even further. “I… I should go.”

“Go?” he repeats, startled.

You turn to grab the first aid kit and your blood-soaked shirt, wincing when the movement tugs at your wound. “I’ve already put you in enough danger as is.”

“Do you think those men will come back?”

You shake your head, feeding your arm through the sleeve of the shirt on your injured side, and pull it up onto your shoulder with your good arm. “I don’t know. They might.”

You feel Steve’s hand settle over yours, stopping your movements. You pause and meet his gaze. “Well then, all the more reason you should stay. They won’t find you here and I can’t send you back out there injured and into the night.”

“Steve…” You know you shouldn’t. The longer you stay, the more you’ll risk messing up the timeline. But looking into his eyes, you can’t find the strength to pull away. The image of your Steve laying in the hospital bed looking steps away from death’s door pops into your head. Comparing that to the one in front of you; alive, breathing, vibrant… It makes you want to grab onto him with both hands and never let go.

“Stay,” he repeats once more.

“Okay,” you find yourself breathing the word out without thought.

His eyes soften and his hand gently squeezes yours before he pulls back. “And I promise not to tell anyone about you as long as you give me your real name.”

You huff out a laugh, dropping your head and shoulders. “You’re a sly one, I’ll give you that much.” Lifting your gaze back to his, you tell him your full name.

He grins victoriously and you can feel yourself falling in love with him all over again. He holds his hand out for you to shake. “Steve Rogers.”

You find yourself matching his grin as you place your hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you, Steve Rogers.”

Your hands shake once before he pulls back and moves to stand on his feet. “Now, how about I get you something to wear that’s not covered in blood and bullet holes?”

You look down at the shirt you only have half on, your cheeks flushing with heat. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He moves deeper into the apartment once more, leaving you alone. You pull your shirt back off and lift it up to take in the damage. It’s pretty bad. Even if you could get the bloodstains out, the two bullet holes didn’t really help matters. Huffing, you toss it into the bowl of water and do the same with the two damp towels, also covered in your blood.

You grunt quietly as you attempt to push yourself up and off the couch. The pain killers may have dulled a majority of the pain, but movement causes a sharp sting to push through. You kneel onto the floor and try to keep your torso as straight as possible as you lift the bowl into your arms and straighten back up. The movement is a bit awkward, but you manage successfully without pulling your stitches.

You follow Steve’s direction to head deeper into the apartment in search of the kitchen. It’s not difficult to find, as the apartment is fairly small. A short hallway separates the living room from the remainder of the apartment, with the hall opening into the kitchen on the left and with the bedroom and bathroom doors on either side to the right. There is light pouring out of the open bedroom door and the sound of Steve rifling through various drawers and his closet.

You turn into the kitchen and set the bowl down into the sink. Tipping out the bloody water, you open the tap from the faucet to fill the bowl once more. There’s a bar of soap on the edge of the sink next to the faucet, which you grab and start rubbing into one of the towels to work up a lather.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind you.

You glance over your shoulder to see him standing there, some folded, striped pajamas in his hands. “I didn’t want to stain your towels,” you tell him.

He moves in next to you. “I’ll take care of that. You just worry about healing your injury.”

You set down the soap and towel, rinsing your hands clean. There’s a fresh hand towel by the sink, which you use to dry your hands before taking the offered clothing. “Thank you, Steve,” you tell him, holding the clothes to your chest. He nods once, dipping his head to avoid your gaze. He never was any good at accepting gratitude. “Really.” You insist. “I don’t know many people that would take in a complete stranger and help them the way you’ve helped me.”

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “Bucky is always telling me that I’m reckless in my pursuit of doing what I think is right.”

Isn’t that the damn truth…

“Besides,” he continues. “You’re also pretty trusting of a complete stranger that offered to take you in.”

Your sweet laughter reminds him of springtime. “I’m a pretty good judge of character,” you tell him, smiling brightly. It lightens your heart to see him relax just a bit more around you. Your fingers fiddle with the fabric of the clothes in your arms. “Well, I should probably go get changed. Thank you, again, for these.”

“Oh, sure,” he sweeps his arm to the side, gesturing for you to walk past. “They’re actually Bucky’s, so I hope they fit okay. I figured my clothes might be too small…”

You catch the slight shift in his demeanor when he brings up one of his biggest insecurities, pre-serum.

Reaching out, you gently touch a curled finger to the underside of his chin. You guide his face back up until he meets your eyes once more. “Chin up, Rogers. You’re looking far too glum for a man that’s got a half-naked woman walking around his apartment.”

You grin teasingly when his whole face goes red. “Oh, I-I didn’t look!” Almost instinctively, his eyes dip down the length of your body, before they widen in horror when he realizes what he’s just done.

You giggle girlishly. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.” You then turn and step out of the kitchen to head for the bathroom.

With the door firmly shut and locked behind you, a long breath slips past your lips. “Girl, what are you doing?” you whisper to yourself.

Stepping over to the sink, you muster the courage to look at yourself in the mirror. You look a little worse for wear, but that certainly comes with the territory of getting shot. Your lipstick is smudged and your hair is a mess. You can’t do much about a shower right now with your freshly tended to wound, but hopefully, by the morning, the healing gel will have had enough time to make at least that possible.

Removing your thigh holster, you open the pouch again and use another particle disc to bring your toiletry bag back to size. You run through your night routine as quickly, yet carefully as possible, feeling the tension of the day beginning to weigh on you, and now all you want to do is sleep. With makeup removed and teeth brushed, you manage to track down and extract all the hairpins from your hair. From there, you move on to shedding the remainder of your rumpled uniform, including your stockings and heels. The sight of blood down the back of your skirt makes you grimace when you realize it’s probably gotten onto Steve’s couch, too.

Unhooking the back of your bra is a bit difficult to manage while injured, but eventually, you get it. You slide the garment off, letting it pool to the floor. Checking in the mirror, you find that your undies didn’t make it unscathed either from all the bloodshed. With a sigh, you push them off your hips and down your legs.

You dig through the cupboards and drawers under the sink until you find a clean washcloth. After soaking it and wringing it out, you use the damp cloth to remove the last bit of dried blood from your skin before sliding into the pajamas. God, they’re so vintage. Baby blue and white vertical stripes with a pocket square on the left breast. You make the adjustments you need to feel a little more comfortable in them; rolling the cuffs and pants, and tying the drawstring.

You run both your undies and skirt under the tap, rinsing as much blood as you can out of them, but anything more than that will need to be dealt with in the morning. You fold the skirt in on itself, leaving the dry side out and the damp side in, with your undies tucked inside as well.

You then find a place to hide your toiletries, not wanting to use a particle disc just yet, since you’ll need them in the morning, along with your first aid kit. Gathering your clothes and holster into your arms, you venture out of the bathroom. You can look into Steve’s room from across the hall and find him standing next to his closet, buttoning up the shirt of his own pajamas.

Like a moth to a flame, you find yourself entering the space. His scent hits you and it brings tears to your eyes because he still smells the same. Walking into his room here smells exactly like walking into his room at the compound. It smells like coming home.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, noting the slightly distressed look on your face.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and force a smile. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Well, you should lie down, then.” He indicates to the full-sized bed, with a corner of the covers pulled back already.

You move toward it, setting your clothes on the bedside table next to a small lamp and reach out to finger the covers. You turn and take a seat on the mattress. It’s a bit lumpy, but the fatigue is really starting to settle in, so you’re sure it won’t matter.

Steve watches you for a moment before turning to leave the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask.

He stops, turning to you in surprise. “I was going to sleep in the living room,” he states like it’s obvious.

The distressed look comes back to your face. “Will you stay?” you ask, your vulnerability cracking through. Last night, while he lay dying in the infirmary on the other side of the compound, you’d struggled to sleep by yourself in a room that smelled like him. No matter how exhausted you felt, you know you won’t be able to sleep comfortably if you had to do that again.

He looks a little conflicted. “Are you sure?” he questions.

You hold his gaze when you nod.

“Okay…” he relents, though he still sounds unsure.

As he begins to head over, you turn to push the covers back and shuffle toward the other side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he questions, stopping his movement as he was preparing to walk to the side you’re currently settling into.

“Moving, so you don’t have to sleep by the window,” you respond automatically as you settle under the covers. It’s one of his weird quirks that you’ve grown used to. He’d explained once that before the serum, sleeping near the window would make his asthma worse if there was a slight draft. After the serum though, he still didn’t like it, because he’d grown more sensitive to lights and sound. So, you always took the window side wherever you both slept together.

You pat the empty space of the mattress and grin, “Come on, Steve. I don’t bite. I promise.”

He reaches to turn off the bedside lamp before he slowly lowers himself down onto the mattress, legs tucking under the blanket. He looks like he’s ready to bolt at a moment’s notice as he lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling. You lay on your side, so you won’t irritate the stitches on your front and back while you sleep. You tuck your hands under your pillow and close your eyes.

A few moments of silence pass. “Steve, you’re never going to fall asleep if you keep your muscles tense like that,” you whisper in the dark.

You feel his body shift around slightly beneath the covers. “Sorry… I’ve never done this before,” he admits.

You want to laugh because he’s freaking adorable, but you hold it in. “Turn on your side,” you encourage. He hesitates a moment before complying and turning onto his side to face you. “Close your eyes.” There’s just enough street light coming in from the window to be able to see him. He holds your gaze for a second before his eyes close and he releases a long breath.

You untuck one of your hands and reach up to gently run your fingers through his hair. He tenses up even more with the first touch, but your nails scratch at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver. Your hand slips down the back of his head and curls underneath his ear before you move back up to his forehead and do it again.

The longer you keep doing that, the more the tension eases from his body, until he’s completely relaxed. Just a few more passes of your fingers through his hair and soon his breath evens out as he falls asleep. Your hand curls around the bottom of his ear one more time before your palm settles on the edge of his jaw.

He looks the same when he sleeps here as he does in your time. His features soften, that pinch no longer between his brow and the stern tilt of his mouth eases up. He gains an air of innocence and loses the weight of the world that he carries on his shoulders.

You watch over him for a minute. Memorizing his features before you shift closer. You dip your head down, tucking it beneath his chin to bury your face into his chest and you gently wrap an arm around his waist. He stirs a little but doesn’t awaken.

He feels different, but you’re still able to draw comfort from his closeness. A huge portion of the weight he normally carries has now fallen to your shoulders, and God, are you feeling it. If you fail in getting a sample of the formula, or if you take too long and the components break down before you’re able to get it to Dr. Banner, then these may very well be the last moments you’ll get to share with Steve.

If there’s any hope of salvaging the timeline, you’ll disappear by morning and be nothing but a dream to him. If you forsake the timeline and stay, not only could you mess up your chances of getting the serum, but there will also be the potential for a domino effect to spiral out and shift the entire course of Steve’s future. Could you really risk that just for a few more days of basking in his presence?

On the flip side, do you really have the strength to walk away? Sure, you’re terrified of failing the mission, but you’re even more terrified of losing out on your last few moments together, should you fail. And what if, by some tiny miracle, you could have your cake and eat it too? What if you could succeed and still spend time with him.

If there’s one thing you know for certain… you’re not ready to let him go.

Just as that thought crosses your mind, Steve’s arm curls around your waist, pinning your body against his.

Taking that as a sign, you push all remaining thoughts out and settle comfortably against his chest. You’ll stay till morning and then see how the rest pans out. For now, you’re safe in his arms and you’re going to cherish this as much as possible. With eyes closed and legs tangled, it doesn’t take long for you to join Steve in the realm of sleep.

Part 3