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Mime En Blanche - Official Poster
This is the end of my "Mime En Blanche (MEB)" art project. Hope you enjoyed it!
Domino (middle) belongs to @nuclearmime, and Mute the Mime (right) belongs to @imrachets. The "eye" in the spaceship above is the insignia of Charn, a character that belongs to @spin-attaxx.
#mime en blanche#meb#official poster#OC + others' OCs#annalogue#agent mn#agent mnemonic#nuclearmime#domino#agent kn#agent knoll#imrachets#mute the mime#agent yv#agent yvonne#mime#mime girl#spin-attaxx#charn#poster#movie poster#poster design#graphic design#spaceship#ufo#technology#receiver#neuralyzer#art#artists on tumblr
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#about#aster draws#max.txt#our ocs#i cant share the full art but this is the important part. hes so fucking cute#juniper#will i put this kn the splatoon tags? sure#splatoon#agent 3
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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.
“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”
“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.
“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.
derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.
“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”
emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”
three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.
he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.
“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.
before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.
“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”
“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”
“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”
“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”
“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.
“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.
“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”
all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.
spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”
“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.
with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”
“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”
“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”
“i don’t like this conversation either.”
#erin writes#spencer reid#early seasons spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid x pregnant!reader
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With Neighbors Like These
Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)
Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present
Word Count: 2k
The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.
Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different.
The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.
He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”
You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.
“Feeling lonely, already?”
“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”
“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.
He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.
Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing.
“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.
“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed.
“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”
“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?”
“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.
“... so you’re a bad influence.”
The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly.
You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”
His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.
“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.
You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”
Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs.
Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again.
“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”
Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.
He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear.
“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.
You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.
“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit.
“Are you trying to make me lose control?”
You nodded in confirmation and he growled.
He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.
“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance.
“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”
His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”
You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff.
He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open.
“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.
“Better?!”
He whined again. “Not exactly.”
You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”
The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.
It was torture but he was damn good at it.
When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.
Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood.
He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.
When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.
With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.
“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.
He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs.
“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.
He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”
“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”
He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”
“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.
“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”
He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”
You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”
“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile.
“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”
NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner smut#post season 12 aaron hotchner#criminalminds#criminalminds fanfic#criminalminds fic#criminalminds smut#smut#mdni#minors do not interact#not beta read#my gifs#hotch is a dilf#also i hate the title but who cares we're here for the smut#milla writes n*s*f*w*#or rather... milla doesn't know why she's writing hotch stuff#i have a strong suspect someone is brainwashing me with all that talk about him#not naming names you know who you are
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(gets on both knees) I know your main gimmick is KN but I remember an old tweet about how you like MakaYuri,, bplease do you have any thoughts to share about them 🙏🙏🙏
YESSS I DO.... Makayuri headcanons let's GO... yuri/makarov is so real. Makarov is Yuri's significant bother [said with extreme fondness]
Makarov world's most possessive person maybe EVER. a billion times worse than Nikto. ticks every box on an "obsessive lover" red flags checklist to be honest
And if you ask Yuri WHY he's infatuated with Makarov he won't be able to answer. It's not that Makarov has a mental hold, influence or control over him either it's just that... simply Yuri loves Makarov.
Like. it has on paper everything to be a toxic relationship but it isn't
They have a lot of history, they know *exactly* how they work, think and react to things. like they have such an intimate knowledge and fondness about each other. It really a couple that can withstand anything because there are no dealbreakers...
...Yuri doesn't excuse Makarov's actions but it won't take anything else than a spoken, half-hearted disagreement because he WILL follow Makarov anywhere.
One (1) domestic headcanon: they have ridiculous matching enamel coffee cups with their surnames on it.
Their arguments are explosive when they happen, but settled quickly because Makarov is stubborn but emotionally intelligent, and Yuri's personality is very... adaptable? He's good at de-escalating things.
Yuri is a social chameleon and exceptionally good as a double agent. He is only genuine around Makarov, though.
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old college flame
pairing: tony dinozzo x ex-girlfriend!reader
summary: you and tony had dated in college. you were the only serious girlfriend he ever had. after going your separate ways, you got a job working at the FBI, which means you hadn’t seen tony since. until NCIS and the FBI have to collaborate on a case.
word count: 2.3k
“Agent Fornell, is NCIS aware that we are assisting them on this case? You’ve told me how Agent Gibbs doesn’t like other agencies to step on his toes.” You asked your boss.
You both were currently in the elevator, riding up to the NCIS squad room. You had never worked with NCIS in all your years at the agency, and you wanted to know what to expect.
“Yes, Agent Gibbs invited us on to this case.” He informed you.
The elevator doors dinged, and you both stepped out. You followed after Fornell, since he knew his way around NCIS headquarters. “Agent Gibbs, pleasure to work with you again.” Your boss said, walking into a room with four desks.
Gibbs stood up and shook Fornell’s hand. “You must be Agent L/N. Tobias told be about you. You’ve been at the FBI for six years now?” He asked. You nodded, politely, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” You said, simply.
Gibbs gestured behind you. “That’s Special Agent McGee, and this is Ziva David.” He explained. They both came over and shook your hand.
“I read your paper about using satellite images during investigations. I thought it was really interesting.” You told McGee. He was flattered. “I’m actually working on that now trying to analyze images around our crime scene. I can show you, if you like. I could use a second opinion.” He offered.
You quickly nodded and agreed. “Here, let me borrow my colleague’s chair. He won’t mind, he has a thing for beautiful women.” McGee said, wheeling the chair from the empty desk over to his own desk.
You took a seat, and he showed you the screen. “I’ve been looking at this radius between the two crimes because we think the suspect lives in the area.” He explained, pointing at the circles on the map.
“We have an unsolved case from a few years ago that I think might be related.” You said, pulling the file out of your bag and showing it to him.
“It matches the other two crimes, and it took place right around here.” You said, gesturing towards the map.
McGee glanced over the file before typing in the third location. “That narrows our search area down by a lot.” He said, glancing over at Gibbs.
“Up on the screen, McGee,” Gibbs said, gesturing at the tv. From behind you, you heard the elevator doors ding.
“Probie, where’s my chair?” You heard a loud voice ask. The voice sounded familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why.
You turned around to see who was talking. “It’s being borrowed by Agent—” McGee started to say, as you turned around and made eye contact with Tony.
“Y/N,” Tony said, almost at a whisper. He was standing completely still, just staring. You were also frozen in your seat.
“You two know each other?” Gibbs asked, curious as to why you both were just staring at each other.
“College,” you both said at the same time.
You and Tony had dated for two years in college. He was your first real love, and you were his. You broke up because you were moving to different cities. You both preferred having a mutual breakup instead of your relationship deteriorating from doing long distance and ending with a messy breakup.
Gibbs and Fornell both snapped to get you both out of your trances.
“McGee, you and Agent L/N go work with Abby on this map. Tony and Ziva start looking into the cold case.” Gibbs delegated.
You stood up from your seat and walked over to Tony. “Hi,” you said, giving him a soft smile. You handed him the file, and he returned the smile. “It’s nice to see you,” he responded, left just as speechless as you were.
“Right this way,” McGee said, showing you to the elevator. You followed after him, looking back over your shoulder and making eye contact with Tony.
You and McGee stepped into the elevator. “So, you know Tony?” McGee asked you. You nodded your head. “Yeah, you could say that. Or at least I used to,” you told him.
“You two haven’t seen each other since college?” McGee asked, curiously. He had never seen Tony as shaken up as he was when he saw you.
“Yeah, I think so,” you said, as though you didn’t specifically remember the last time you saw Tony.
It was when you brought Tony to the airport. He was leaving for DC. You both knew it’d be the last time you saw each other. It was the only time you’d seen Tony cry. You had a Hallmark-movie emotional kiss.
And you hadn’t seen him since.
You and McGee stepped out of the elevator and walked down a hallway. You both walked into Abby’s lab. Then, you noticed Abby.
She was typing on her computer, facing away from you both. “Hi, Abby.” McGee said as you both entered the room.
“McGee, did you hear? Ziva called me. Something about Tony acting weird around some girl. I was thinking secret ex-girlfriend, but that doesn’t really feel like Tony—” Abby started rambling, before McGee interrupted.
“Abby,” McGee said, loudly. He gave you a look of sympathy. Abby turned around, and her eyes went wide.
“Abby, meet Agent L/N from the FBI,” McGee introduced you.
Abby had a terrified look in her eyes. “See, you might think I was talking about you, but I was actually talking about someone else.” She lied, trying to smooth things over.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it,” you assured her. She looked relieved. The three of you discussed the map for a few minutes, and then McGee got a phone call.
“Boss wants me upstairs,” He said, leaving the lab.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” Abby apologized again. You gave her a polite smile. “You really don’t have to worry about it. Also, I thought you’d want to know that you were right.” You told her.
Her eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell from her expression that she was confused. “Wait, about what?” She asked you.
“Tony,” you said, simply.
She still looked confused for another minute, and then her eyes lit up. “You’re Tony’s ex-girlfriend? You two actually dated?” Abby asked, excitedly.
You could tell how shocked she was. She ran and grabbed two chairs for you both to sit on. You took a seat, giggling at her excitement.
“So, Tony actually had a girlfriend? Like a serious girlfriend?” She asked you. You nodded your head. “Two years serious,” you replied.
Abby was shocked. She’d never heard Tony talk about a girlfriend. There wasn’t even many girls that he took on second dates. He didn’t even try to seriously date anyone after you.
What you both had was special. Tony knew he’d never be able to replicate that, so he didn’t see a point in trying. That is what led to the long string of one night stands.
Abby’s expression shifted when she saw your disappointment. She was excited to learn Tony had a girlfriend, but reminiscing about your relationship just gave you regrets.
“When you said having a secret ex-girlfriend didn’t sound like Tony, what did you mean?” You asked Abby, curiously. She didn’t know what to say.
“Obviously, I didn’t know Tony in college, but now, I’ve haven’t seen him date anyone serious. It’s a lot of first dates that don’t go anywhere. What you both had must have been really special.” She said, giving you a soft smile.
You sighed, thinking back to your relationship. It was special. You both had the perfect fit, until you didn’t.
“I should probably get back upstairs. I wouldn’t say Fornell is the most patient boss.” You said, standing up from your seat. Abby giggled to herself. “Sounds like Gibbs,” she joked.
“What sounds like Gibbs?” You heard Gibbs as he walked into the room.
“I’m gonna head back upstairs.” You said, quickly walking out of the room. You waited for the elevator. When it dinged, you went to step inside.
You bumped straight into Tony, who was trying to get out of the elevator. You both froze. “Hi, again,” you said, softly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, scooting to the side to let you get in the elevator.
“I was just getting out.” He said, stepping into the hallway. You watched him as the doors started to close, when he quickly hopped inside the elevator.
He quickly flipped the off switch, turning the lights darker and bringing the elevator to a halt.
“Sorry, I just really needed to talk to you.” He said, turning to face you. You smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt.
“So you’re working with the FBI now?” He asked, not knowing how to start this conversation. You nodded, giving him an awkward smile.
“Have you, y’know, been doing good?” You asked. Even after all these years, you still cared about him. “Yeah, I’m doing better. What about you? You ever get married?” He asked, remembering how you had talked about your perfect wedding.
You let out half of a laugh. “Nope, not married. Not even close,” you said, honestly. He nodded along, and you knew he felt the same way.
“Trouble finding the right guy?” He asked. He knew he sounded jealous, but you were his first love.
“Nope, I had the right guy. Just the wrong time,” you said, taking a step closer to him. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. We tried to stop things from ending messily, but I don’t think it mattered. Having to say goodbye to the person you love the most is always messy.” He said, slowly grabbing one of your hands.
He was nervous, waiting for your permission. You gave him a smile and interlaced your fingers with his.
“You never did anything wrong, Tony. You were perfect. I know we both have regrets about everything, at least I do.” You told him, honestly.
He could hear your hurt in your voice. He wished there was a way to go back and undo all the pain you both had been through.
“Trust me, you are not the only one with regrets. I am always wondering what would have happened if I fought harder for us. Maybe we would have survived long distance, or maybe I should’ve just taken the jump and moved to be with you.” He rambled.
He had never told anyone any of this. He felt so relieved to get it off his chest. “I guess we’ll never know.” You said. You were realizing for the first time that you both were living in the same city now.
Tony went to say something, but stopped himself. “Actually, nevermind. That’s stupid,” he said, dropping your hand and backing up from you. He leaned against the elevator railing, worrying he’d just messed everything up.
He went to flip the on switch, but you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “It’s not stupid. What were you going to say?” You asked him.
He took a deep breath, knowing he could blow everything up with what he was about to say.
“I was just going to say that I never stopped loving you.” He confessed, looking into your eyes with a look that made you melt.
You cupped his face and kissed him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. He spun you around, so your back was pressed up against the wall.
Your hands found their way back into his hair, like they had so many times before. It all still felt natural. He pulled you closer to him. He had missed you for years, and now he felt like he couldn’t breath without you.
He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to smirk. “God, I have missed you so much,” Tony whispered, pulling out of the kiss.
“Are we giving us a second chance?” You asked him. A giant smile spread on his face. “I have dreamed about having a second chance with you for years.” He said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.
Suddenly, Tony’s phone started ringing.
“Yeah, Abby, what’s up?” He asked. You heard Abby cheering loudly on the other side. Tony flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear.
“You got the girl back! You both are so cute together.” You heard her say, causing Tony’s cheeks to turn pink.
“Wait a minute. Abby are you spying through the security camera?” He asked, turning to face the camera. You heard the phone beep as she hung up.
You giggled to yourself. “Sounds like Abby is a fan.” You joked. He nodded, knowing what you said was an understatement. “She didn’t know it was you but she always knew I was hung up on someone.” He said, pulling you into a hug.
“We should probably get back before Gibbs and Fornell get suspicious.” You mumbled, into his shirt. You both pulled out of the hug, and he flipped the on switch.
You walked back into the squad room. You both were anticipating that Abby would have told the rest of the team already, but no one seemed to react.
“Boss is on his way up, he wants to talk theories.” McGee informed you both. You both nodded.
Tony grabbed your hand, which caught McGee and Ziva’s attention. They gave each other a quick look from across the room. They were both wondering what was happening.
Tony pulled his chair out for you, letting you sit down. Then, he leaned against the side of his desk.
“So?” McGee asked, looking at Tony.
Tony chuckled at his colleagues’ intrigue and curiosity.
“You may be seeing much more of Agent L/N” Tony said, causing both McGee and Ziva to smile. “We’re happy for you both,” Ziva said, smiling.
McGee walked over to you. “You’ll be needing this. I’m going to need to hear all about how Tony was in college.” McGee said, handing you his card with his phone number.
“We should all get drinks tonight. I’m sure you have lots of stories about Tony.” Ziva suggested. Tony knew he was going to be in for a long night.
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#tony dinozzo x reader#tony dinozzo#tony dinozzo imagine#tony dinozzo fanfiction#tony dinozzo fic#tony dinozzo ncis#ncis#ncis x reader#ncis fic#ncis fanfiction#ncis imagine#ncis fandom#michael weatherly
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ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ.
Pairings: ShieldAgent! Natasha x ShieldAgent!Fem! Reader
Summary: You're tired of always fighting with her, but you just can't help but feel an attachment to her. Even if it gets you hurt.
Warning: Y/N has powers like Venom, Angst, Fluff if you squint, Injury
Parts: 1 // 2 // 3
I dragged myself into the kitchen the next morning and poured myself some coffee. I hadn't got any sleep last night due to a certain redhead having the time of her life with a random guy she found on the streets.
"You look like shit." Tony remarked, also sipping on his coffee. Clint and Steve were also seated on the kitchen island with bags under their eyes. I guessed they couldn't sleep either, and that was saying something because they all slept on different floors than me and Natasha.
"Oh yeah? Blame that one on Romanoff." I quipped, taking a sip of my coffee.
"Blame what on me?"
Ah yes, the devil herself. The one responsible for the sleepless night. She walked into the kitchen as if she wasn't screaming the building down literally 5 hours ago. She had a baggy shirt on, definitely not hers, and boxers, also not hers. Her hair was a mess and she had the audacity to walk into the kitchen yawning.
"Uh, maybe the fact that none of us slept due to your screaming." Tony expressed. Natasha just simply chuckled and made herself a coffee.
"Tony, please soundproof her room." I suggested, turning to Tony, Steve and Clint.
"It already is soundproofed..." Clint muttered. Natasha laughed again. Is this woman serious?
"Okay then," I piped, turning towards Natasha. "The next time you decide to get railed, keep it down so the rest of us can sleep."
There was unadulterated venom behind my words, and I made sure she knew that.
"Since when does my sex life have anything to do with you?" She scoffed.
"Since we have a fucking mission Natasha! I hope you weren't fucked too hard because I am not slowing down for you!" I growled and slammed the mission file onto the kitchen island. Everyone in there looked at me in shock and Clint just smirked and took a sip of his coffee.
"She's got a point, you kn-" Steve began.
"Can it, old man." Natasha interrupted. Why is she mad? She literally kept the whole building awake and now she's mad? I don't understand her. I walked away, coffee in hand, and got ready for the mission.
☼
☼
☼
☼
Some time passed and we boarded the Quinjet, not before getting a lecture from Fury. Romanoff and I hadn't spoken a word to each other. Maybe that was for the best.
The mission was in another Hydra base. Although, this time it was to shut the place down. It was going to be more challenging because I had to do most of the fighting, due to Ms. Imgonnagetrailedbeforeamission limping everywhere.
After some walking, we got into the Hydra base. Using my powers, we slipped through corridors upon corridors of grey walls and floors. We were still avoiding communication, despite me literally carrying her through the halls. I don't know how we got to this position but she was on me with her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck and I was holding onto her with one arm, so I could use the other to shoot my gun. I mean sure, to turn both of us into a shadow I needed her off of the ground but it started with me carrying her, bridal style, and now it evolved into this.
We came across a hallway where there were some Hydra agents patrolling and I brought us out of the shadows and went to put Natasha down. Her grip on me just tightened and she took my gun from the holster on my thigh and aimed it behind her. She shot 3 bullets without looking and they hit the agents vitally.
"Turn around I can't see." She ordered, finally speaking the first words to me since the morning. I obliged knowing she's the better shot. Still, I was confused as to why she didn't want to come down.
Natasha fired 2 more bullets at the 2 remaining Hydra agents that were left dumbfounded by her sudden attack. Their lifeless bodies hit the concrete floor with a thud.
"Am I warm, Romanoff?" I teased when she placed my gun back into my holster.
"Put me down." She deadpanned.
"What? I was just joki-"
"I said. Put. Me. Down." She reiterated. I let her down and she rolled her eyes and stormed off in a random direction. I followed her closely, not wanting to compromise the mission. Through the bland halls we walked, only stopping when we believed that we heard something. The floor was concrete so it hurt to walk on for a long period of time and I could tell that Natasha was getting uncomfortable too.
This place, this hallway in particular, seemed all to familiar to me.
And that's when it hit me.
Something was wrong about this place. This was the place where my vision occurred.
Danger ahead, stop walking.
"Natasha, stop. There's something wrong about this place." I realised. She simply scoffed and kept walking.
"Natasha. I'm serious. Stop."
Still nothing. She held her head high and continued walking as if you hadn't said anything.
"Natasha! Would you please just listen to me-"
Stop her now.
I didn't waste time in debating whether or not the voice was toying with me and lunged straight for Natasha, pulling her backwards towards where I stood previously.
Stand infront of her.
In a matter of milliseconds I switched our places so I was in front of her. That's when we heard it
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Get down!"
I pushed Natasha to the ground and held my arms out, trying to create a shield with my powers in the very short time slot that I had. I decided to cover my head with it and cover Natasha with my body. She opened her mouth to protest but-
BOOM!
Natasha's P.O.V I watched in horror as Y/N's unconscious body collapsed onto mine after the explosion. I blinked a few times and looked around, only now realising that the place was rigged. We only got this far due to sheer luck.
How could I be so stupid? I was too occupied with being petty from our argument that I didn't think to check anything.
"Y/N?" I shook her body a little but she did not reply, not even a stir. I touched her back to move her but froze when I felt a warm liquid slip through my fingertips.
I panicked a little and tried to contact someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.
"H-Hello? Romanoff to S.H.I.E.L.D." I muttered into the earpiece, trying to hide the panic.
"We hear you, your earpiece seems to be working fine-"
"Y/N is compromised. We need emergency evacuation." I interrupted . My mind was racing as I glanced down at the unconscious body laid down on my chest. I took a closer look at the wounds on her back and realised that the bomb was a pipe bomb. Pieces of shrapnel were impaled into her back and she was bleeding pretty badly. My gaze landed on her right leg, where a chunk was missing and the muscle was visible.
An abundance of footsteps echoed through the hallway, towards us. I wrapped my hands around Y/N's waist and pulled her up with me to try and walk in the opposite direction of the footsteps. I put her over my shoulder and ran towards another hallway. Her blood dripped from her wounds and onto my body.
"Moving towards the east side." I huffed into my earpiece. I turned the corner to be greeted by a group of agents, ready, aiming their guns at me and the body on my shoulder.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Y/N groaned groggily from my shoulder and reached for her gun. A quick sense of relief washed over me before I pulled out one of my guns and began shooting, keeping my other arm wrapped securely around Y/N's waist.
We both started shooting at the agents, with her covering my blind spot and me covering hers. I killed the last agent and continued moving in the direction I was going previously. Y/N shuffled a bit and moved down my body to try and stand up. She wobbled so I put my arms around her waist to support her.
"Nat, I think I was shot." She whispered. The fear in her voice was evident, she was scared she was going to die. I didn't have time to stop and check her so we kept moving towards the east side.
"Hey, I think you got hit too." She voiced with concern, tracing her fingertips over the bullet wound on my shoulder making me wince a little.
I turned another corner and laid her down against the wall. By now, the alarms in the building were blaring and Hydra agents were scouring the area for us. I ripped a bit of fabric from my suit off with my teeth and ripped it in half. I wrapped half around her bullet wound tightly to limit the amount of blood she was losing and wrapped the other half around her leg.
"You're bleeding too." She told me even groggier than last time, pointing towards my shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. You're just my priority right now." I said, my voice wavering due to my fear. I tried so hard to keep a straight face but I couldn't. For the first time in a long time, I felt genuine fear.
Y/N was going to bleed out if we didn't get help soon. And it'd be all my fault.
"Hey...don't blame yourself for this," She whispered, her entire body limp and just her hand coming up to cup my cheek.
"I-It's okay...I'm not...going to die."
"Romanoff, cover your heads." Tony warned through the comms. I pulled Y/N into me and covered her ears and her neck.
Y/N's P.O.V Nat pulled me into her and I relaxed into the crook of her neck, just inhaling her scent. She covered my ears and head with her hands and I tried my best to stay conscious. Maybe resting wasn't the best option. The moment was pure bliss until a hole was blown into the wall.
There stood Tony and Steve looking, or trying to look, like total badasses. Natasha removed her hands from my head quickly and put them on my back, putting pressure on my wounds. My head was fuzzy and my vision was blurry. I was fighting consciousness as Natasha whispered.
"I'm so sorry."
I felt myself get lifted out of Natasha's grasp and into muscular arms. Probably Steve's because, let's face it, Tony is not that muscular.
"Stay with us Y/N." Steve said, although it sounded more like a command.
He set me down in the Quinjet and Bruce started grabbing everything he needed. I felt the consciousness slipping so I decided to spill.
"Natasha's hit too, don't let her tell you otherwise." I flashed a weak, cheeky smile at her before finally closing my eyes.
#natasha romanoff#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha x you#marvel cinematic universe
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dark star johnny hatefucking his gf/bf over the balcony in his mansion, and acting like he’s gonna drop them off of the balcony if they misbehave in any way
this one has been SIMMERINGGGG in my inbox ive been too excited to write it LOLOL, also i changed this prompt just a smidge
dark star!johnny cage > fall for me
warnings: SMUT AS FUCK, UR LIFE IS BEING THREATENED BUT UR INTO IT LOL, again ds!jc is just literally insane !! also exhibitionism !! and also cnc !! jesus this man needs hella warnings!
notes: IM SORRY U GUYS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG YOU ALL HAVE BEEN SO PATIENT SO IM REWARDING YOU
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6*
[ masterlist ]
• dark star!johnny has a short temper, one he enjoys putting out on you. oftentimes, you didn't actually do anything, he's just mad at the idea of you going against him and that's typically enough to rile him up alone.
• this time around, you were a whopping ten minutes behind getting ready for one of his A-List parties. something about your makeup just didn't feel right no matter how many times you applied your eyeshadow or concealer, so adjustment after adjustment left johnny tapping his foot outside of the bedroom door.
• "baby~," he'd sing-song shout from the crack of the door. "this party is a big networking deal for me, and you're already fucking it up~!"
• "i didn't fuck anything up," you reply from the vanity seat, trying to focus on your lip liner. "we'll be on time, you baby."
• "don't you talk back to me!" he slams his palm again the wood, making you jump and, yet again, smear your liner. your lower your head to the vanity, bumping your forehead against the surface with a sigh.
• he eventually unlocks the bedroom door using his master key and ushers you out of the door with the temper of a toddler. his hand grabs your upper arm as you're placed into his luxury car and he drives off with a huff.
• johnny refuses to speak to you the entire time you're at the party, mostly ignoring you to bump shoulders with directors and writers. he wouldn't ever publically admit it, but roles were running dry as his agent turned up with no jobs, so he brought it up to himself to make some damn money.
• will probably call you the "ball and chain" or "the missus" in a super objectifying way as he gestures at you, trying to make the older higher-ups laugh. you had enough of it.
• deciding no longer to be his personal punchline, you wander away from the bustling, hot celebrity room and find a balcony. you were always the one to prefer fresh, open air and city skylines while johnny would rather be the one in the midst of the aforementioned city. you took advantage of this independence and leaned over the glass, savoring in the way the wind cools your damp skin.
• you only get to enjoy a few minutes in the quiet bliss before you hear the door slide open. at first, you expect it to be another partygoer hoping to squeeze in a quick smoke break, but you're horribly disappointed to be ripped from your tranquility by none other that your boyfriend.
• johnny stands at the door, fists clenched and jacket swirling in the wind. his eyes look dark, his brows furrowed.
• "where'd you go?" he asks, crossing his arms.
• you look at him like he's stupid (because he is). "the balcony?" you reply. johnny shakes his head.
• "that's not what i meant."
• "well, i left your side because i was tired of being shit on for an hour straight."
• "nobody's shitting on anyone!" johnny throws his arms in the air at your admittance, like he had no idea how cruel he was being. "they're just jokes! you're being dramatic. i thought you loved attention."
• "johnny-" you pinch your nose. "i have literally never said that."
• "but you show it! through your actions!"
• "oh my god, you're delusional," you turn away from him with a groan, trying to ignore the whiny bastard behind you. that proves a hard task when you hear his boots step up behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and head buried in your neck.
• "you know i want you here," he mumbles into your skin, rocking you gently. you turn your face away from him, not falling for his charm.
• "you don't show it," you mutter in response, trying to take a step away from him but his grasp only strengthens.
• "i could," he hums, pressing his front to your backside. "or i could punish you for making us late."
• you swivel your head, craning your neck to glare at him. "seriously? now?" he breathes into your neck, agreeing breathlessly. "no, johnny. not here. people will see."
• "isn't that the fun part?" he grunts, grinding his hips into your ass. "don't be boring. you've been boring all night."
• his hands hike up your skirt hungrily, exposing your nearly-naked ass to the cold air. you shiver and yelp out, which only makes you jump back against him even harder. he shudders at the contact.
• "come on," he whispers, hands snaking up to squeeze your chest. "don't make me be mean. you know i don't like being mean to you." his fingers find your hardened nipples, massaging them with pinched fingers.
• attempting to crane your neck to ensure the balcony's doors are locked, johnny notices your diverted attention and holds your jaw, angling it out toward the city.
• "you see that?" he breathes, now fully grinding against you. "that's my city, baby. i'm the king of hollywood, isn't that right?"
• "i guess," you reply, gasping at his erection sliding against you.
• SMACK! johnny didn't like that answer. you lurch forward from the hard slap to your ass.
• "say it," he growls, biting your neck. "or i'm gonna make you."
• "you're the king of hollywood," your voice is comically flat, exhausted from always having to gas him up for the dumbest things. johnny picks up on your unenthusiastic tone and spins you around by your hips, sitting you on the balcony ledge. his lips latch onto your throat, sucking and biting hungrily.
• his fingers danced on your panties, sliding them aside. as much as you wanted to be annoyed with him, he is so unimaginably fine. and you're the type of person that likes to be manhandled. both traits he ate up.
• before you could say anything more, johnny's fingers dove into your mouth, collecting a good amount of your saliva before using it on your pussy, shoving two fingers inside making you cry out in surprise.
• "not here, right?" he breathes, savoring the way your breathing gets heavier and your skin warms from his touch. "then we'd better be quick. and quiet." his fingers scissor inside of you, making you moan with a hand shut over your lips.
• johnny was impatient, not finding any joy in fingering you, so he glanced behind him to ensure the coast was clear before whipping his dick out, holding his shirt up by his teeth. he lined himself up, eyes focused on your bodies merging rather than your expressions.
• didn't matter how many times you get it on, you will never be fully ready for how long his dick is. while not the thickest, it just feels seemingly endless as it's embracing your walls.
• he spins you around again, throwing your front over the balcony ledge and holding you by your hips. surely, if he were to let go, you'd fall. and it wasn't a short drop.
• "fuck," he hissed as his tip met your entrance. "i control you, isn't that right?"
• a distant "mhm" slips from your lips as johnny shoves himself inside again with a slapping thrust. his gasp slides into whimper territory as he bottoms out.
• "fuck yeah i do," he growls, now going at an unholy pace. he hated the progression of sex - it was either all or nothing. "could drop you right now."
• you're pulled from your lust when you look down, noticing the rocky way down to a small river. damn these celebrities and their hillside mansions. you swallow thickly, hoping he was joking.
• "please don't," you beg in a whisper, interrupted by gasps with each thrust. "please don't let go."
• johnny could only laugh loudly at your plea, bruising your hips with his grip as he ruthlessly pounded. he was sticking true to his word about being quick, because his breakneck pace was making your cunt flutter.
• "nobody would even notice," he moans, his shirt dropping from his teeth and falling back down his front. "i'm the star."
• "you're the star," you parrot in a sick mix of lust and fear. "you're my everything."
• "i could fucking throw you off for making us late. could drop you — haah — you like it when i play god, don't you? you wanna fall for me, baby?"
• his brows knit and eyes screw shut as he finds his release inside of you. you try hard to not laugh at the fact that his own dirty talking is making him close. his grip loosens as he concentrates, and you fearfully try to hold yourself against the balcony so you don't topple forward.
• "joh— john—" you worriedly look down again, your stomach flipping as it nears an orgasm - and potential death. "johnny, please—"
• "hmm?" johnny tilts his head, a cocky smirk on his lips and exposing his beautiful pearly white teeth.
• your brain feels torn in half. you want to beg him to hold on, but you also want to cum so badly. unable to decide on an outcome, your voice sputters out pathetic begs, not entirely coherent as your mind grows foggy with an overwhelming amount of emotion.
• thankfully, your body decides for you. your knees buckle inward and his hold on you tightens. you cry out, cumming around his dick as your voice echoes through the hills. you swear a flock of birds takes off from how loudly you orgasm.
• "haah — don't fucking fall—" johnny's hands pull you impossibly closer. "not when i'm clo— ngh —"
• you find no peace after finishing, just johnny's hips slamming into your ass as his pants grow uneven. it's not long before he spills inside of you, holding you there as you're filled up.
• johnny's the first one to pull away, pulling out and making you whimper from the emptiness. you turn around to face him, your ass still bare, red, and spilling with semen. his phone's in his hand when he snaps a couple photos of this puppy eyed look.
• "you look so pathetic," he laughs, the flash of his camera making you shield your eyes. "i bet hollywood heard those moans. all thanks to me."
• you pull up your own panties and johnny visibly twitches seeing a droplet of his cum seep through. shockingly, he places a quick, chaste kiss to your lips.
• "and you're welcome for not dropping you," he winks with a toothy grin, thinking it was some kind of joke. a deep, dark part of you knew he probably genuinely considered dropping you. you were just lucky you were only ten minutes late, who knows what he'd do if you were an hour late.
• as you're pondering your life and near-death experience, johnny returns to the party, waiting for you at the door. it would be best if you stuck by him for the rest of the party.
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat x reader#mk1#johnny cage#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage smut#mortal kombat smut#marley writes ☆
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Back and Forth - prologue
Prologue: Flash Forward
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 800
Series summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.
However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other... and then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?
Series masterlist
Warnings: canon-typical violence, allusions to death, pain, blood, hurt/comfort-ish, language
A/N: prologue to a new series with enemies-to-lovers-ish vibes and inhuman reader; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader's appearance
The exhaustion was coming and going in waves, alternating with pain, concern and fruitless determination.
You wondered if Steve felt the same; you assumed he did. Asking would feel a little silly though; you didn’t see the point and frankly, you and Steve had never been close enough to just sit down on a couch and share your feelings, keeping them close to the vest except for the heat of your occasional arguments. So you stayed quiet, alone in your wondering.
The pulse of pain in your legs dulled a while ago; you let your head lull back against the wall you were leaned against, the thud sounding just as dull.
The irony wasn’t lost on you; you and Steve had been colleagues, reluctant friends as best, guarded and unsure about the other most times despite him being one of the most honest people you had ever encountered. It was true that you stood by his side and he did by yours, but there had always been an invisible wall between you. By the irony of fate, now, when an actual wall separated you, you could feel the figurative one crumble down.
It was surreal and frankly scary; which was just as ironic, given your circumstance that should feel much more terrifying. And yet… you couldn’t help the little warmth spreading in your chest, knowing your back was aligned to the same wall Steve’s was, mere inches apart, and while admitting certain things to him hadn’t been pleasant, in hindsight, it felt good. No matter the outcome, you had no doubt that if you survived, you’d remember these moments fondly, at least to some point.
And yes, it probably made you a masochist; but what else was new.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the files?” Steve’s low voice snapped you out of your musing, making your heart jump a bit in fright.
It shouldn’t have surprised you he asked one of many questions you didn’t want to answer. It was another of his annoying and endearing talents – and you rarely gave him the satisfaction of replying fully, just for that. But what the hell, right? Maybe you were about to die here. And you had just thought about how telling the truth, while embarrassing, felt liberating too.
“Would you have listened?” you questioned him back anyhow.
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
You heard him shift, the clank of metal and a low hiss escaping his lips making you gulp. You weren’t the only one battling pain.
“I would have heard you out. I admit I was angry at that time and I wasn’t… behaving as I should have and I’m sorry. But I would have heard you out.”
A brief barely-there smile curled your lips as he apologized again. Steve Rogers, ladies and gentlemen, unable to bear the fact he himself had been less than a gentleman. You might have been far from a friend and even farer from being able to tell you knew him and understood him despite having screamed at him the opposite, but you understood enough. Even if you sometimes wished you didn’t.
“But would you have listened?”
He didn’t reply.
You both knew the answer: no. He wouldn’t have, because he was the damn Captain America and he believed he knew the best, blindly following his inner compass pointing the true North even should all hell break loose, and those files weren’t a real concern anyway, were they?
Damn him.
And yet. As you challenged him further, you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest humming louder, because yes, that was who he was, and you liked him that way, even if he was driving you mad at the same time.
“Or would have you just waved it off, because you are invincible?”
Silence stretched again.
You closed your eyes and tried to focus on hearing his breathing through the wall, still startled and relieved at how easy it was to do so. It was a good distraction from the pain still radiating from your wounds; and it kept your hope alive.
Dum spiro spero, right?
Despite the situation – or maybe out of spite, given both yours and Steve’s nature – you were still breathing and so was Steve. As infuriating as he was, you knew your heart would break to pieces if he stopped. Unable to walk or not, you’d find a way to break through the wall in mere seconds if he stopped talking to you.
Which he did just now.
Something in your ribcage contracted painfully, your voice shaky when you spoke his name, praying he was only offended at you calling him out. After all, being shot really fucking hurt, so you’d rather not move at all, let alone try to crash through concrete; that was the sole reason for your prayers. Liar, whispered a breathless voice, but you ignored it, your heart hammering against your sternum.
“…Steve?”
Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
Well, well, well... I'm leaving - to a certain point - the realm of fluff to dip my toes in action and angst. Should end well too, right? Anyway. I hope you enjoyed this little tease😇
I admit this fic really is just a baby for now, even as the outline is done, but I simply had to share - too excited not to... oops?
I'm fairly confident this should be around 7 parts including prologue and epilogue, but I'm also me, so the number might slightly rise.
Thank you for reading 💕
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#steve rogers#captain america#agent reader#captain america x you#captain america imagine#captain america x reader#shield agent reader#avenger reader#back and forth#anika ann#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#captain america fanfiction#captain america fanfic
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hiii!!! Congratulations on 2k! Can i request a wandaxfem!reader where r feels like wanda doesn't love her the same way she does. then r gets terribly injured in a mission and all her insecurities washes away when she wakes up in the med bay with wanda holding her hand... “i’ll be fine for tonight with you by my side, but don’t you know you’re my lifeline) - (lifeline, joshua bassett)
lifeline [wanda maximoff]
warnings: stab wounds, explosion, mentions of breathing tubes, mentions of hospitals, slight mention of throwing up, a few curse words, tried to be accurate, but probably inaccurate medical terminology and scenarios
pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
*not my gif*
“Nat?” Wanda asks. Her phone pressed against her cheek as she stirred dinner for the rest of the team.
She could hear the sounds of beeping and mumbling from the other line. The ex-assassin clears her throat, “Wanda something happened on the mission,” her heart dropped into the pits of her stomach. “Y/N got injured…really bad, actually. Her injuries are so severe that Fury recommended we go straight to the hospital. We had to take her to hospitall. I think you should fly out here as soon as you can.”
There was a pause of silence. Neither of the two girls really know what to say. Wanda’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as she tried to find words. Nat cleared her throat again, “You may want to hurry. Doc said she may only have twelve hours.” Natasha’s voice cracking rings in the witch’s ears.
All of a sudden the phone felt heavy, like she was holding the weight of five elephants in the palm of her hand. The phone crashed onto the floor with a soft thump, catching the attention of Clint and Steve who were setting up the table for dinner. Their eyes land on the distressed girl, “Wanda? What happened?” Steve asked, stepping hesitantly closer to her. His blue eyes searching her green ones, trying to read what had just happened.
The girl couldn’t form words though. Her throat felt tight as tears started to build like towers. Clint picked the phone from off the floor, hearing Nat’s voice speak muffled against the line, “Nat? What’s going on?” His confused expression slowly turns into an urgency as he looks at his Captain. He hangs up the phone quickly, “Steve get the quinjet ready, we need to go. Now.”
Clint wrapped the younger Avenger into his arms, holding her tighter than ever before, “She’s going to be okay.”
It was a simple mission, really, to stake out the Hydra infested warehouse, once it's empty, get in there and steal intel. A mission you and Nat have done countless times. You should’ve known that it would end in disaster when you thought to yourself ‘Oh this is easy! I could be home for dinner!’ Whenever someone says that, it never ends well.
The warehouse was set up in a series of buildings, so it was hard to tell if it was fully cleared. Maybe that’s how you should’ve known it wasn’t going to end well. But honestly, during the stakeout you were falling asleep at the wheel. Your best friend’s arm nudged your side with her elbow, “Usually you’re bouncing off the walls, annoying the crap out of me. What gives?”
You rub your eyes, pinching at the bridge of your nose, “Wanda and I had this huge fight before I left,” you let out a soft sigh, crossing your arms over your cloth and spandex mashed suit.
Natasha’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “But you never leave each other on a sour note before a mission.”
You nod, letting out a soft sigh, “I know hence why I could not get any sleep on the way over here.”
“Are you guys okay?”
“No, I don’t know. I hope so. It was a pretty rough one. So rough that we didn’t even say goodbye to one another before I left. ”
She squeezes your shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it?” Which you just merely shook your head in response. It wasn’t something you wanted ingrained in your head as you were about to fight loads of Hydra agents, “Alright, well, let’s just hope you don’t have a web block when we’re in there. I know how you get when the two of you fight. Now c’mon let’s get in, so we can get home for dinner!”
You throw on your mask, opening your arms up for the Russian, “C’mon little spider,” she rolls her eyes at you. Muttering under her breath about how your powers are literally ones of a spider before she clung onto you, as you swung the two of you onto the roof of the warehouse.
The warehouse was huge, as you and Nat snuck in through the air ducts. You and Nat glance at each other, already discussing earlier how you want to split up the search. She extends her hand out for the two of you to do your secret handshake, in your own way telling one another to be safe, before she splits in the opposite direction from you.
Towards the back of the building, there was one of these hallways leading you into the next building over, so you quickly made your way through. You froze in your spot, your spidey senses tingling, and you could feel someone’s presence around you. Before you could dodge out of the way, the HYDRA agent launched himself at you, tackling you into the crates behind you, pain shooting through your spine. The shock of the attack paralyzed you for a second, before your spidey senses kicked in and you dodged the punch that was coming. You kicked the agent square in the chest, lifting yourself up in the process.
From the corner of your eye you could see a bomb strapped onto one of the SHIELD agents who recently joined, pressing your finger to your ear piece, “Nat! There’s a bomb! They knew we were coming! You need to get out of here!”
“There is no way I am leaving you!” She shouts, “Where in the warehouse are you? I’ll get to you!”
A sharp pain shot through your body, as the HYDRA agent pulled a knife out your side. You let out a yelp in pain before you webbed him onto the wall, “Y/N! What was that noise?!” Nat yells.
You shook your head even though she couldn’t see you, “Never mind that! Call Fury, tell him we need someone who can disarm this. There’s an agent strapped to it,” you rushed over to the panicked agent with his mouth covered in duct tape. Inspecting the wires and the time that read 4 hours, you didn’t notice the way he was thrashing about, like he was trying to warn you about something.
Suddenly, a loud buzzing noise filled your ears, causing you to flinch back. The red numbers, quickly turning to 30 seconds. Your eyes flickered to the trapped HYDRA agent who had the explosive trigger in his hand and a smug smirk on his face, “Hail Hydra,” he repeated, resting his head against the wall as he accepted his fate.
“Nat! You need to go now! Run! Please!” you frantically looked at the wires, trying to figure out how to disarm it. The SHIELD agent in front of you sobbing as he shook his head, looking at the time.
“You need to go too, Y/L/N!” Nat screamed into your ear piece., “Please, Wanda will never forgive me if you blow up right now! I will never forgive you!”
You pulled off the agent’s duct tape, “Hey! I need you to take a breath for me!” you rushed out, trying to get his attention, “Do you know how to stop this thing?” He shook his head frantically.
20 seconds.
“Alright, well I’m going to get this off of you and we’re going to get out of here together!” you quickly tried to untie the ropes that surrounded his wrists, mentally cursing yourself for not bringing a weapon other than your webs. Your side became more and more painful, but you needed to get both of you out of here.
15 seconds.
You frantically start to rip off all the duct tape that strapped the bomb to his clothing, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” you muttered to yourself over and over again.
“Y/N! I’m coming to you! Where are you?!” Nat’s insistent screaming in your ear piece only causes your heart to race more. You rip the bomb off of him and he exhales out a sigh of relief, as he stands up next to you, but immediately falls onto the ground.
You didn’t even notice the way his legs are bruised and broken, most likely from all the torture he endured from HYDRA. You wrap his arm around your shoulders, lifting him up with all the strength you can.
10 seconds.
In the corner of your eye, you notice how fast the clock was trying to tick down. The pressure of him leaning against your little wound caused you to hiss out in pain. You scramble towards the hallway, desperate to try and get out of this side of the warehouse. Your vision slowly became more blurry, yet the sight of your own blood staining your torn suit was so vivid.
4 seconds.
You hadn’t been able to get very far, even though it felt like you were miles away from the secluded corner. You had barely made it out of the room it was trapped in. It was as if a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped in your tracks. “What are you doing?!” your fellow agent yells at you, “Why are we stopping?!”
“There’s no way we can escape the bomb in time, but I can try and limit the explosion,” you tell him, trying to explain as calmly as possible.
You turn your bodies around, extending your wrists toward the bomb in the corner. You shoot your web…but nothing comes out. You flick your wrist again and again and again. Each time growing more frantic.
“You’re joking!” you exclaimed.
3 seconds.
“What?! What’s going on?!” the agent yelled.
You shook your head, “Forget that idea! We need to leave now!”
The two of you turned back around and you tried to run towards the end of the hallway as fast as you could. Ignoring the burning pain in your side and the weight of his body against yours. But it was too late.
It was the loudest thing you had ever heard. The echoing boom rang in your ears, as you collapsed onto the other side of the warehouse, as debris started falling all around you. Everything felt too bright as a hot stinging pain ripped through your whole body. You tried to get up, but felt a sharp sting in your leg. A piece of rubble that was on fire rested on the top of your leg, too heavy to move it out. Your eyes fluttered open and closed, slowly becoming heavier and heavier. A thick liquid pooled from underneath you. Nat’s red hair came into your blurry view.
Nat let out a soft gasp as she noticed how part of your face was burnt, “Hey Y/N, come on keep your eyes open for me, okay? The ambulance and the fire department are here. They’re gonna get you out of here,” she whispered, brushing your hair out of your face. But her rare soft voice did the exact opposite as it made your eyes grow heavier and heavier.
When the firemen got you out of there, you were hardly alive. Your breathing could barely be seen or felt, your throat and lungs burnt that you could barely inhale any air. Your heartbeat was irregular and often skipped. Your spandex suit was burned into your flesh and it was surprising that you could even be recognized by how severe some of your burns are.
Honestly, it was a miracle that you were still alive. Something the paramedics and firemen could barely understand.
Nat could barely look at you, she tried her hardest to stay strong, but an overwhelming sense of fear seeped into her bloodstream. While the paramedics struggled to keep you stable on the helicopter, Nat let tears fall onto her lap, looking out at the view. Only looking at you when a deafening beeping sound could be heard, right before you landed.
Your heart stopped beating.
Wanda’s knee bounced up and down all throughout the flight in the quinjet. Natasha hasn’t been giving them updates, there wasn’t much to give after she called you.
They managed to stabilize you, but it was all about if you were going to survive the night. Joining the Avengers came with loads of paperwork. One of them being, what would you want if you had extreme injuries. Basically a DNR form. You were indecisive, so you wrote out what you wanted. If something were to happen to you, you give the doctors 24 hours to do all they could, and if it didn’t work, well that’s when you call it quits.
SHIELD actually follows it very well, like the agent you saved? He wanted them to do everything they could to keep him alive. Everything. He did not want them to stop trying. So, after the doctors managed to stabilize you, they tried to take you off the ventilator to see if you would breathe on your own, but you crashed. You couldn’t do it. That’s when the countdown began, if they couldn’t get you off and breathing by yourself in 12 hours, per your request you want them to pull it.
A muffled sob escaped Wanda’s lips as she thought more about it. In 12 hours, she could lose the love of her life and the last time she saw her ended poorly.
Wanda takes the elevator up to the tower. Her breath smelling slightly of alcohol from her spontaneous night out with Vision. The two have been on mission after mission lately, so Vision thought it would be nice to have a break. She was going to go straight to her room, but she figured it would be best to get an Advil and water in her before she regretted the drinks in the morning. The elevator dinged and she stumbled through it and to the kitchen, where she found you. You were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon through the window sill. A couple plates of food sat in front of you as you sipped slowly on a glass of wine.
“Love? What are you doing? It’s late,” Wanda asked, snaking her hands around your neck from behind. She flinched back as you stood up, looking at her with a hard glare that she has never been on the receiving end of, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Last week, you promised that we would have a date night for my birthday. You and I have been so busy with missions and training, so when you didn’t show, I just assumed that you were running late with training. Then hours ticked by, and our teammates would come in and look at me with such sympathetic eyes because they knew how much this meant to me because that was all I would talk about for the last week. Peter even came by with a cake and sad eyes because he heard about what happened,” you ranted to her and Wanda looked to the ground in shame. “Yesterday was my birthday Wanda. Yet, you go out with Vision! Of all fucking people! You didn’t wish me a happy birthday, you didn’t kiss me, you didn’t see me all day! All because you were with Vision! And we all know how much you love his attention!”
The words fell from your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying, Wanda’s shame quickly turned to defensiveness as she stared at your tear stained cheeks, “I may have forgotten your birthday and I’m sorry, but is this really about forgetting your birthday or is this about Vision? It’s like you’re jealous or something!”
“Yes, I’m jealous Wanda! And I have every right to be! You and Vision have some sort of connection because of a fucking stone implanted into his head!” You scream.
She shook her head, “He’s my friend, Y/N! Am I not allowed to have friends?”
“I never fucking said that you can’t have friends! Jesus Wanda do you hear yourself?” you bring your voice down to a softer tone, realizing that a screaming match isn’t gonna help fix this, “You forgot my birthday…the Wanda I fell in love with would have never done that. I don’t ask much of you. I just want to spend a couple days with my girlfriend and for her to remember my birthday. All I wanted was a kiss from her and for her to tell me that she loves me, yet you haven’t said that to me a lot recently. Look, I’m going on a mission with Nat in a couple hours. While I’m gone, I guess just think if you really want to be with me still.”
And you walked away without another word.
Of course, Wanda loved you. It was just the fear of the unknown that has made her put a wall up between the two of you. Everything and everyone she has loved, she has lost. Her parents, Pietro, it was only a matter of time before she lost you too. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she loses you.
Wanda bursts into the waiting room, met by several confused eyes from the staff and patients. Steve and Clint followed right behind her, the two of them more rational than she was. They ask for your room number and as soon as she hears the answer she sprints down the hallways and straight to your room.
Natasha sat in the corner of the cold room, watching distantly, like she was off on another planet. She didn’t even notice the Sokovian bursting in. Wanda’s eyes flash to you, your frail body lying in bed. All the color was drained from your face and a burn lingered along your cheeks. She inspected you further, noticing the burns that lingered all over your body. The beeping from the machines echoes in her ears as a wave of nausea overcomes her at the sight of a tube stuck in your throat. All she wants is to hold you, but she’s afraid that if she does you’ll crumble.
She took a seat next to you carefully reaching for your hand. She wanted to tell you that she loved you, that she needed you, and that she was sorry, “Hey Wanda,” Nat finally came to her senses, noticing her teammate sitting next to you.
“I didn’t know it was this bad,” her voice cracked, as hot tears blurred her vision.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t-“ Nat took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I couldn’t find her in time. I was trying to find her, to help her save the other SHIELD agent, but before I could, the bomb went off and she…I’m so sorry Wanda. I should’ve protected her. I couldn’t protect her.”
Wanda reaches for her hand, squeezing it, “It’s okay, Nat. You couldn’t have known,” Clint and Steve finally burst into the room. Clint immediately goes over to console his best friend, while Wanda turns her attention back onto you.
The doctor knocks on the door, giving all of you sympathetic smiles, “Hello everyone. Agent Y/L/N is in very critical condition. The injuries she endured have taken an enormous toll on her mental and physical health. It’s an absolute miracle that we were able to stabilize her. However, the burns and the stab wound are the least of our worries. The smoke inhalation caused her vocal chords to swell which may cause some permanent damage, but we had to do a tracheotomy to help her breathe.”
Wanda’s heart stopped, the reality and severity finally catching up to her. All of the things she dreamed of doing with you. The life you wanted to share with her. Another wave of nausea hit her like a freight train, “And per Agent Y/L/N’s paperwork with SHIELD, later tonight we’re going to try and see if she could breathe on her own and if not, she has asked us to pull the plug. If there’s anyone who’s not here, who you guys think would love to see her, I suggest calling them now,” he clears his throat, trying to stay professional. “I recommend trying to talk to her, coma induced patients tend to be more responsive when they hear their loved ones.”
With that, he leaves the room, a tense air filling the room once more. Steve clears his throat, ignoring the tears trying to swim in his ocean eyes, “I’m going to make some calls and ask if anyone would like to see Y/N. Tony will get them here as soon as possible.”
And just like that Avengers started swarming in like wildfire. Clint called Laura and brought the kids along with her, whenever Clint and Laura needed a date night you’d be there to help babysit the kids. So, to say you were an important part of the family was an understatement.
Tony and Pepper showed up with Peter. Tony and Bruce tried to talk to the doctor as much as they could, asking a million questions about what they’ve tried and what they haven’t tried to help your condition. Thor and Valkyrie even showed up from Asgard, just in case this was the last time they’d see you.
Wanda took a step back, allowing everyone who came to visit you to talk to you, to possibly say their goodbyes. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to you just yet. She watched as some people weren’t afraid to shed a tear, retelling some of their favorite memories with you. While others tried their best to stay strong, demanding you that you’d breathe on your own.
She watched as your room piled up with flowers in the worst way possible. Peter even brings you a small stuffed spider he got at the zoo. Her breathing became more uneven as she watched a usually strong Yelena shed a few tears for her chosen sister, Kate and Natasha, even having to console the younger Russian.
Wanda needed an out, she needed to get some air. Luckily, Bucky came around, “C’mon, let’s go for a walk. I think you need it.” The witch didn’t even hesitate as she just followed him through the door and out of the hospital. As soon as the cool air hit her face, she ran as quickly as she could to the nearby bush and started to empty whatever she had in her stomach.
Wiping the corner of her mouth, she sat next to Bucky on a nearby bench. Neither of them said anything and honestly it's what Wanda really needed. All Bucky did was rest his hand on her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, before they sat and watched the cars zoom by.
They didn’t know how much time had passed before someone cleared their throat behind them. Steve had a sympathetic smile on his face, “Wanda, it’s almost time doctor said. If you wanna say something to her, now is the time.” Wanda turned to Bucky and he merely nodded in encouragement.
The Sokovian followed back to your room. Everyone must’ve gotten the message that Wanda was coming back, so they were all waiting in the waiting room when she walked in. She took the seat next to your bed, grasping your unusually cold hand.
“Y/N…” she trails off her voice immediately cracking, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve remembered your birthday. If you wake up, I promise I’ll remember everything. I’ll remember your beautiful eyes looking into mine, like we have our own secret club. I’ll remember the way you turn up the music on the weekend when I’m trying to sleep in and the way you’d jump on the bed and dance to wake me up. I’ll remember the way you’d squeeze my hand three times whenever you realize how anxious I’m getting or to just tell me that you love me.”
Her emerald eyes met the sea as tears filled them. She cupped your cold cheeks, smiling sadly, “I should’ve been honest with you and I should’ve just told you I was scared. I was scared to fall and lose you. But that does not beat how petrified I feel right now, Y/N. I prayed, Y/N. I never pray, I prayed to a God I stopped believing in when my parents were killed. I’m not saying goodbye to you, just yet. I just need you to know that no one else could ever save me, like you did. Not Vision. Not anyone else. You. You saved me and I can’t do this on my own. So, breathe Y/N. Please. You’re my lifeline.”
Yet another knock interrupted her thoughts as the doctor walked in. He smiled sympathetically with Steve, Clint, and Natasha right behind him. “It’s time,” he walks over to your bedside, throwing on gloves as he gets ready for extubation, “Just to explain what we’re looking for, if she can breathe on her own her breathing will look like she’s just sleeping. If her oxygen levels are normal, it means she’s okay. On the other hand, if she isn’t breathing on her own, she’d be gasping for air, and her mouth will be opening and closing like a fish out of water. Her oxygen levels will also be very low.”
All four of them nod, Nat grasping on to Wanda’s free hand, squeezing it tightly. The doctor slowly starts pulling out the tube and Wanda squeezes your hand three times, muttering a quiet please under her breath. All of them hold their own breath, which is ironic. Each one of them watches your chest rise and fall in anticipation.
For what felt like an eternity, the Sokovian felt a weak three squeezes come from your hand, causing her head to shoot up to look at your face. Your eyes flutter open as you stare into the eyes of the love of your life, “You made it,” she whispered under her breath and a tiny smile crossed your lips as you ran your thumb over the back of her hand.
“Hi Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you,” your doctor introduced himself. “We’re gonna recommend you can’t talk until directed to. We’re working on reducing the swelling in your vocal chords.”
You gesture for a pen and paper, your hands shaking slightly. He nodded, handing you a pen and a piece of paper before promising to check up on you later. In the scratchiest of handwriting, Wanda watched as you wrote a little note. A small gasp leaving her lips as you showed her, ‘You’re my lifeline too.’
Wanda rested her hand against your stomach as she cried happily into it. Your free hand that she wasn’t grasping reached for her head, running your fingers through her messy hair, in hopes to let her know that everything will be okay.
“I love you,” Wanda whispered to you.
And all you did was squeeze your hand three times.
#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff imagines#a mediocre 2k party
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Cold as Ice Pt. 1
Ghost Yan. X Gn Outcast reader
Tw: suicide mention, yandere themes, non consensual touching, nsfw mention.
There was a reason people avoided you in the town. I mean who would want to get close to someone destined to die? Well maybe that was just superstition but still, you were a walking bad omen no one wants that around. And hey it’s not your fault the real estate agent should have told you what happened in the house. Not that it would matter if you found out soon enough.
It started with small things such as your items getting misplaced, and the temperature dropping quickly at random times. But soon it escalated, clothes that you wore daily were going missing and suddenly there was a lack of your lip products. You decided to ignore it you got the house for a damn good deal maybe whatever ghost was there would be willing to cohabit in the space.
But now little notes were being left around the house. ‘You look so delicate when you sleep’ ‘You always smell so good I could just eat you up’ which were easy enough to brush off Sure a ghost was in love with you Yada Yada what’s new. You managed to ignore the notes no matter how increasingly weird they were getting.
However, It seems that whatever was here didn’t quite appreciate being ignored. So it stepped it up yet again. You would randomly feel feather-light touches on your body at random points of the day. Brushing over your stomach and chest, pinching your thighs if it was feeling bold. And every time you didn’t make a comment they would only grow to be more confident. Feather-light touches soon turned into gripping and squeezing your body while you cooked or finger trailing dangerously low while you were reading. If you ever bent down a harsh slap was felt over your ass.
You had eventually had enough and decided whatever was happening needed to be stopped. In hindsight, an Ouija board and a shady spell off some random pop-up websites may not have been your smartest idea but you were desperate at this point. You were going to keep this house ghost or not.
You followed the instructions to a T and looked around. Things didn’t seem any different, maybe you did it wrong or something. Then suddenly there was an overwhelming pressure in the room you could hardly breathe as you looked up.
There it was well He was fairly tall maybe just reaching 6 feet yet a bit more on the leaner side. His hair seemed fairly long reaching the bottom of his neck, it was quite messy though. His eyes looked tired and were an eerily shade of grey and they were looking at you with such adoration it made your body freeze in terror.
He reached out a long bandaged finger to trace over your cheek. “It actually worked” he whispered in disbelief his face lighting up in a lovesick way. He let out a soft laugh tilting his head to the side allowing you to see the red mark wrapped around his neck. He fully grabbed your face seeing your eyes focused on it. “Interesting isn’t it” he hummed “Seems that there’s always a reminder of the choices I’ve made”
He smiled pulling your frozen form closer to him. allowing his nose to nestle into your hair inhaling deeply before a shiver wracks his body.
“Not like I regret it, wouldn’t be able to meet a pretty little thing like you if I hadn’t” he whispers into your ear. His hand starts to wander across your body with a sudden vigor that brings you back to your senses.
“Wait let go of me, you were supposed to be gone now” you cry out as you struggle in vain. His grip tightened around you as he brought his hand down to tilt your face up. “Oh cmon don’t be like that love, you seemed perfectly fine with me doing it before” he leaned in a bit closer “I didn’t even make comments when I saw you taking care of yourself afterward” he laughed his head tilting to the side again.
“Don’t tell me it’s the appearance now love, and here I thought you were a kind soul” he smiled down at you letting out a soft hum before resuming his ministrations. “But of course, I know you’re better than that I’ve been watching you for a while” he let out an airy sigh letting his fingers run through your hair. “Now why don’t I show you just how much I love you, 25 years leaves you quite pent up you know”
His laugh echoes through the house as you think about whether the price of the house was worth this.
—————————————————————————————
There will be a part two it’s already drafted up I just wanted to get this off my brain.
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Mime En Blanche - Back in Blanche
I'm even more late than I was with the Easter-Terrestrial, but hey, it's still the Easter season. So here are the three agents, who are, well, back in blanche.
Domino (middle) belongs to @nuclearmime, and Mute the Mime (right) belongs to @imrachets.
#mime en blanche#meb#back in blanche#OC + others' OCs#annalogue#agent mn#agent mnemonic#nuclearmime#domino#agent kn#agent knoll#imrachets#mute the mime#agent yv#agent yvonne#mime#mime girl#bunny girl#bunny suit#holiday art#easter#fanart#men in black#mib#back in black#men in black 2#still frame#art#artists on tumblr
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Moonlight (Leon x Reader)
a little one shot that came to my mind while listening to "Moonlight" by Kali Uchis (what a queen..). it's a light smut, apologies in advance for any errors, and feel free to share your thoughts ;) enjoy your reading ladies!
After meticulously applying her gloss, enhancing her luscious lips with a touch of shine, (Name) cast a final glance at her reflection in the mirror.
You look absolutely stunning, she thought to herself, blowing a kiss towards her reflection.
She was confident in her appearance. Clad in a sumptuous long black satin dress that delicately hugged her feminine curves, she exuded an aura of self-assurance. The strapless dress accentuated her bare shoulders and her smooth, sun-kissed skin. The sweetheart neckline enhanced her cleavage, adding a touch of sensuality to her outfit. She felt like a goddess, ready to step out and dazzle anyone who had the chance to cross her path.
A few months had passed since her mission in Spain to save the President's daughter, and she had been invited to a private party organized by the White House. She knew she would be surrounded by important personalities, and that elegance was a must, but most importantly, she knew that her former mission partner, Leon, would be there.
And she was heading to the event with a clear goal in mind.
As she entered the building where the party was taking place, she arched an eyebrow as she noticed several heads turning at her arrival. The gazes seemed unable to look away from her. (Name) was a woman of breathtaking beauty, even in her everyday life. Her piercing eyes, enchanting smile, and mesmerizing lips made it seem like she descended straight from the heavens, and she was aware of it.
As a talented special agent, she excelled in her work, but outside of it, she took particular pleasure in going out and impressing the people she met.
She spotted Agent Kennedy sitting at the back of the room, near the bar, and their eyes met.
There you are, she thought in her head.
He appraised her with his gaze, swirling his glass of whiskey in his right hand, before turning back to the bartender. A slight glimmer of interest flashed in Agent Kennedy's eyes, but he showed no visible reaction.
You know, what was unique about Leon was that she felt irresistibly drawn to him in a way different from all the other men she had met. She was intrigued by his mysterious personality, his aversion to talking about himself or his past. Yet, she could see in his eyes every day that he had suffered greatly.
But it was precisely this aspect that made her feel intense emotions for him. Beyond his attractive physical appearance, she admired his strength, courage, and determination to always complete his missions, no matter how difficult, without ever being discouraged by his tumultuous past.
When they had been sent on a mission together in Spain, Leon and she hadn't had much opportunity to exchange about their lives, as both were preoccupied with the dire situation and their mission at that time. But she had felt several times his lingering gaze on her, and it was not a look filled with concern related to the situation they were in. It was a gaze filled with desire. A few times, their eyes met, locked for a few long seconds without a word being exchanged. But everything was in that stare, and (Name) had clearly felt it.
Leon heard heels echoing behind him as he finished his last sip of whisky.
"Good evening, handsome," said a feminine voice behind his shoulder.
"(Name)," he replied calmly without turning around.
The young woman took the stool next to him and also ordered a whisky from the bartender in front of them.
"Isn't it going to be too strong for you?" he continued with a teasing smirk.
"I didn't know you knew how to smile," retorted (Name) playfully.
"Hard to smile when you've lived my life," Leon replied, letting his suffering show through his eyes.
That gaze. That gaze that spoke volumes about his pain, and it deeply touched (Name). She knew that pain, she had felt it too. But that night, she wanted to try to replace that sadness with ecstasy.
She gently placed her right hand on the face of the special agent, forcing him to meet her bewitching gaze.
"You would like to think of something else, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" she whispered.
Leon was accustomed to the different nicknames that this woman called him, even during missions, he had already heard them. Unlike Luis' teasing attitude, whom he had met during this mission, (Name)'s nicknames never bothered him, and he had never made a remark asking her to stop.
He finally turned towards her, facing the young woman and staring straight into her eyes. She felt her heart race in her chest, overwhelmed by excitement. Her mind got lost in the deep blue of his eyes, and no words were exchanged for a few seconds. The look said it all between them. It was that way.
"Here you go, miss," said the waiter, breaking the silence as he brought the drink that (Name) had ordered.
She gave her partner a slight smile before turning to take a sip of whisky, maintaining that captivating attitude that could have made anyone swoon. Leon's gaze shifted to her lips, wondering if the taste of the drink would still linger if he decided to kiss her, then discreetly descended to her neckline, giving rise to naughty thoughts in his mind.
"I don't think we have time for any smalltalk " (Name) continued, deliberately placing her hand on the top of the government agent's thigh.
She leaned in slowly towards Leon's ear and whispered the following words: "I think we've spent enough time here. You should take me back to my place. I don't think the president would have a problem with the two agents who saved his daughter leaving early."
Leon's gaze instantly transformed, giving way to a burning desire. "You must be right."
.
(Name) had brought Leon to her place, and now the two of them were on the balcony of her apartment. The moon promised an enchanting reflection on the top of the buildings.
Kali Uchis' song "Moonlight" played in the background, creating an atmosphere charged with excitement, tension, and obvious desire. As usual, Agent Kennedy was not very talkative, while (Name) took a cigarette out of her pocket and brought it to her lips.
"I'm not offering you one-
Before she could even light it, she felt a strong arm pull her into an embrace, causing her to drop the cigarette to the ground in surprise. A wave of heat spread through her body as she found herself inches away from her soon-to-be lover. The moonlight danced in their eyes, and she felt her heart race with excitement.
"I thought we said no time for smalltalk" Leon said.
She let out a small laugh in response, followed by a slight gasp as Leon firmly grabbed her ass.
That wasn't expected from him. (Name) thought as Leon's fingers didn't hesitate to slip between her legs, sending a hot sensation through her lower body.
Their lips barely brushed against each other, and they could feel their breath quicken in mutual excitement as it only took one question before both of them succumbed to their primal instincts.
Leon finally captured (Name)'s lips, wasting no time in delicately sliding his tongue into her mouth, now dancing with his partner's. This kiss was filled with burning desire, reflecting the longing they felt for each other.
He wasted no time and abruptly lifted (Name) in his arms to carry her inside the apartment, their lips still sealed against each other.
My God, this kiss was something she had never been able to share before.
She needed him, needed to feel him close to her, skin against skin. She was so desperate to feel him inside her.
And as she wished, the night progressed, and they lost themselves in each other, exploring each other's bodies with passion, satisfying their primal instincts and mutual desires.
The only sounds in the apartment were their ragged breaths and moans, expressing intense pleasure. The night turned into a mix of emotions and intense sensations as they made love under the moonlight.
They let go of each other, putting aside all the bad memories and dreams they might have had at some point.
#resident evil smut#resident evil#resident evil remake#resident evil 4#re4make#re4 leon#leon x reader#leon x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#leon smut#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut
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who follows the rules anyway?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
complete
pairing : anthony lockwood x reader
word count : 6.7k
warnings : language ig?
content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan
taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara
note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)
She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.
“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.
“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”
She made a move to get out of bed.
“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”
George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.
George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.
They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.
“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.
“I had a nightmare.”
“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.
“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.
A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.
“What girl?”
“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”
“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.
“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”
“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.
“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”
“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.
“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”
“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”
“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.
“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”
They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.
“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”
He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.
“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Lockwood really I’m fine.”
“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”
She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.
Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.
She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.
“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”
She stared at him wondering what he meant.
“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”
“Oh, right.”
“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”
“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”
“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”
“I’m not a child!”
He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”
“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.
“You have to ask for help sometimes.”
“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”
He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.
When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.
It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.
“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.
“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”
“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”
“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.
“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.
“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”
“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.
She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.
“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”
“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.
She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.
When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.
“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”
“You never listen to what I have to say!”
She pushed the door open.
“What’s this all about?”
“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”
“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”
He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”
His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”
“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”
“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”
“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.
“Well, I know I’m right!”
“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”
It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.
“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”
“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.
“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.
Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.
---
“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.
“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”
He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.
“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”
That got a laugh out of him.
They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.
“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”
“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.
“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”
It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.
They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.
Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.
“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”
“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”
“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.
“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”
“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.
“Norrie? What are you doing here?”
“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”
“Actually, you could help us a lot!”
y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.
“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”
“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.
Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.
---
“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”
Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.
“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.
“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”
“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”
“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”
“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.
“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.
“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”
He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.
“What happened?”
It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.
“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.
“We met Lucy today.”
She was met with a questioning stare.
“The girl from my dream.”
This triggered more frowning.
“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”
George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.
“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”
He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”
“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”
“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”
He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.
“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.
“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.
“What do you think y/n?”
“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”
“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?
“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”
George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.
A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.
“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.
“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”
He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.
The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:
“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons
TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock
One fundraiser organized each year
Strong link to M&S rapier supplier
Funds from Fittes?
No financial records or official information available”
She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.
Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.
They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.
A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.
They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.
“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.
They looked up at him expectantly.
“We go after the financial records.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.
“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”
“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.
They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.
“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”
“But what about the records?”
“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.
---
“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”
Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.
After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.
“Lockwood stop.”
“Is there something wrong?”
“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”
“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”
“Just shut up Lockwood!”
George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.
“They had just started to get along!”
y/n ignored his comments.
“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”
Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.
“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.
She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’m… sorry…”
“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”
Her heart sank.
“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”
“What was I doing?”
“Faking compassion to get what you want.”
“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”
“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”
“I can actually.”
There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.
“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”
“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”
He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.
“Just don’t be mean to me again.”
“I won’t.”
He turned to enter the kitchen.
“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.
“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”
She smiled.
“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”
He smiled back.
“Tea?”
#who follows the rules anyway#ukuwrites#lockwood and co fic#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x y/n#lockwood and co imagine#anthony lockwood#lockwood & co#george karim#lucy carlyle#norrie white
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⋆˚。⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑺𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑻 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑶𝑪𝑶𝑳 ˚୨✧୧⋆。˚⋆
Ch2: Stubborn Agents
Series Masterlist
It was a new week, a new day, and a new strategy. You had practically been scheming all weekend because you definitely wouldn't let him get fired if you had something to say about it. Of course you were slightly scared; it’s not every day you go up against an experienced agent in a very prestigious governmental operation, but right now not even the interns regarded him with an ounce of respect. Besides, you’d be losing your job anyway; what more can you risk?
It starts when he asks for his first errand of the day, the typical beer bottle, and snacks. You give him your best smile and go to his desk, grabbing one of his open ones and another of his closed bottles. “What the hell are you doing?” His eyes follow the bottle as your fingers clasp around the neck of it, tucking it into a plastic bag for later.
“Who? Me? I’m taking one for reference. How will I know I got the right one?”
“When have I ever cared about what brand? Just get one—“
“Oh, but I'd hate to disappoint my agent.”
With another grin, you’re off down the corridors until you reach the bins, throwing all of the bottles away. If you were going to make this plan work, you needed to rid of the core problem here and introduce some incentives. He catches you by the wrist when you return later empty-handed, narrowing his eyes down at you. “Where the hell is my stuff?” You slap down the twenty dollars back into his hand, give him another innocent smile, and shrug. “I was just looking for you! I’m actually not allowed to leave the building during work hours anymore.” This was the biggest lie you’ve ever told, and it’d be caught out almost immediately if he just asked Chris about it. That’s exactly why it works out perfectly though—he wouldn't dare go talk to him willingly. At least, not in the state he is in right now. You watch as he grits his teeth at you, his hand scrunching the twenty dollars before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “So what the hell are you useful for then?”
You had thought ahead obviously; if you had kept confiscating his things, you’d get absolutely nowhere, and he’d just end up buying more and still have done no work. The innocent facade returns as you tap your chin thoughtfully, almost as if every word has not been thought out the night before. “Well, I suppose if I left the building on business, then I could go.”
“You want me to write you an imaginary business slip every day? That won't work, idiot.” He scoffs, and you have to mentally stop yourself from glaring at him right there. “Well, that report I handed to you on your desk needs to be given to the department that happens to be closest to the convenience store.” He gets the gist immediately and huffs his way back to his desk to grab the papers, filling them out quickly before handing them to you. “Fine, but be quick.” He grumbles, shoving the twenty dollars back into your hand again, and you relent, smirking in satisfaction as you walk back down the corridors to deliver the documents and grab his beer for the day.
By the end of the week, he starts to just drop off the finished documents at your desk as a part of his routine, of course still with the dollar bills since he’s not quite stopped his drinking habits yet. You know damn well that it’d be impossible to stop him from drinking altogether, so trying to get rid of any more of his alcohol was a no go, but what you have noticed even more is how lazy he is. You mentally scold yourself for judging, but you have practically never seen the man do any sort of training, and he’s an agent for damn’s sake. He catches you staring at him one day as he places the finished papers onto your desk, raising an eyebrow at your confused stare.
“What’s wrong now?”
You stand, the little hand on your watch ticking closer to the time for his meeting, all the necessary paperwork held in your hands.
“You asked me if I was really your escort. Well, how do I know you’re really an agent? You don't look like one.” You shrug your shoulders at him as the pair of you walk down the corridors, and he lets out a small snort, almost egotistical.
“Yeah, very funny escort, and what do you know about being an agent?”
“Well- I.. I’ve seen plenty around here, and you don't compare to any of them—at all. In fact, you’re not even cool like the ones in the movies.” You feign disappointment, a frown tugging at your lips as you let your shoulders sink, shaking your head in despair. “Oh well, I guess when people ask me who I’m escorting, I won’t tell them. I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing escorting someone who doesn’t even take part in the missions anymore.”
The meeting is barely over when you’re dragged through the corridors and soon perched upon a stool in the DSO’s shooting range, fumbling to keep all the paperwork still in your hands. “Might want to cover your jaw before it drops, sweetheart.” He says cockily, ready to prove you wrong. He only slacked a little; he was just taking it easy these days— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.
That was half an hour before he had promptly missed about sixty percent of his shots. “Yeah… my jaw dropped for the wrong reasons. I’m sure even I could do better than that.” You say, eyebrows knitting together in horror, having never seen an agent lack that much coordination. Suddenly he turns, and you feel the tiniest bit of guilt settle, wondering if you had really just put him down like that. Damn, you knew he was struggling as it was; why rub it in? You’re supposed to be encouraging him to be better. “Don't give me that look— I'm going to prove it to all of you.” He says gruffly, his gun now reloaded as he aims at the targets once more, ready to go at it for as long as he can. Even so, you just go through the paperwork, slowly filling out boxes or checking requirements for upcoming missions and other things. That’s your job aside from being his escort, basically just getting the database in check. It’s boring—extremely boring—but absolutely necessary so you’re not too angry about it.
Despite being a mere escort with barely a year of work to her name, it turns out he takes your words seriously. Very seriously. To the point that for the next week or so, he’s dragging you to the shooting range every chance he gets to prove that he can hit every single shot. At first, you thought he had forgotten all about it since you didn't see him until two days later, when he started randomly popping up out of nowhere and claiming he got better. So you lugged your paperwork there every single day, sitting on the same stool that people even began to leave for you. After a few more of your dismissals and light advice to try increasing his stamina, he even starts working out a little more, making sure you’re watching intently.
But you don't, because you have bigger fish to fry.
Such as the fact you cannot afford this job at all— a weird but true statement. They said it’d be added to your overall pay once the trips are over, but that doesn't mean you can afford it now. I mean, an extra $1000 over the original $500 you’d normally pay for the economy ticket—that has to be a crime. You’re broken out of your thoughts as Leon pokes your forehead.“Oi- you forced me to do all this—”
“—Yeah yeah, I know you got 90% of all the shots. Go try again.” You mutter before eventually lifting your eyes. When you see the scoreboard on the opposite side of the room, damn, he really has gotten them all this time.
“I got all the shots— don't worry, I'll let you brag to the other interns free of charge. Now you owe me something.” He has a smug look on his face, arms crossed, as he wears the stupidest grin—well, at least someone here is happy, you think. Though his face falls as he realises you’ve already returned to your work, and he wanders off for a few moments, pissed at the lack of response to his act. He should’ve just put you in your place; how dare you force him to do all these things to prove himself, and then you just don't care?! His stamina has improved so much, as has his accuracy and himself! He’s even feeling better! This is all your fau-
Oh. Oh.
Now that he thinks about it, you hadn't really done anything; his own ego had driven him. If anything, you sat through uncomfortable 3-hour sessions on a stool just to make sure he would actually get ready for the next mission. He has to admit, you actually won this time.
Unfortunately for you, you’re not even two months into the job, and you’re packing your things away into moving boxes. You tried talking to one of the senior agents, but no one really cared about the situation enough; they needed an escort for Leon, and they didn’t give a crap about how well you were qualified if it meant the other girl could pay for the position. You ended up giving it up rather quickly; even if you had asked everyone in your life for some money, it likely wouldn’t add up, and you didn’t feel like asking money just for a business class seat. So much for taking charge of your career and pushing yourself far in life; money really does buy happiness. At least Leon’s been looking a little happier, you think..?He’s not as grumpy as usual either. Occasionally you even catch him in the gym— a thin layer of sweat on his forehead as he uses the bench press— and he even forces you to spot him sometimes. You’ve told him plenty that there’s no way you’d be able to lift the weight if it even fell on him, but he just snorts at the thought of you being dragged down by a weight. Though, Chris’ acknowledgement of Leon’s improvement is what stopped you from being too upset about this. You made a small change, and that’s what matters. .
“Why the hell did you quit your position as my escort?”
You hadn’t expected a confrontation, especially from him, yet here he stands before your desk, having just forced a loud creak out of the cheap wood when he slammed his hands onto it. He practically grabs his annoyance sheer from the borderline, eyes narrowing down at you before he moves his arms to cross over his chest.
“Some things just changed; it’s fine.” You just shrug, knowing you can drop the perfect assistant demeanour now that you won’t ever be at this building again. Maybe a job in a call centre was a better idea than this. He watches as you pick up your moving box in your arms, about to walk to your car and leave for good. “You could’ve at least done this before you made my life a living hell.” He says, the glare evident even if it doesn't seem as sharp as it should be.
A part of him is hoping you’re just kidding, or had he really pushed away yet another person in his life. He didn't mean it now; yes, before maybe, but this was too far. Was it his fault? He needed answers, and he needed them desperately.
Despite the burn in his chest, you’re already walking away, and any words he had are dead on his tongue, your figure disappearing as you leave the building to get to your car. He can convince himself all he wants that he won't need you as he walks back into the building, but when Chris pats his shoulder, asking him to join him on the next op, all he can feel is an existential dread.
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#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy#resident evil infinite darkness#resident evil fluff#resident evil fanfiction#re fanfic#re4 leon#resident evil 4
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Mints & Movie Stars
Sanji X OC || 2.9k words
Summary: Movie star Vinsmoke Sanji and his personal assistant, Peridot "Peri" Winters, head out to a known pirate island to film his next big movie. Will Sanji be able to keep his feelings for Peri hidden? Just how many mints can one man ask for before it gets suspicious?
notes: I am very much thinking about all my favorite kdrama tropes and business romances while writing this. Just light, angsty fun :)
Also on AO3!
CH 1
Peri stares across the table at the woman interviewing her boss, her blood roaring in her ears. Sure that, this time, she'd misheard this same asinine question she's been hounded by ever since she took this job position.
Who would've known that being the personal assistant to one Vinsmoke Sanji, movie star, would immediately relegate her to an existence where questions like “Tell me Sanji, has your new assistant made any romantic gestures towards you?” and “Sanji, have you been able to set boundaries with your new assistant?” were the only acknowledgement she warranted. And the questions weren't even directed at her! She'd be hovering right there in the background, standing just behind Sanji as he faced down a line of reporters. And no one had asked her once if she was busy swooning over Vinsmoke Sanji instead of doing her job, it was just assumed she was. Peri wouldn’t even be within eyesight of reporters if she had any say over how she did her work. But Sanji insisted upon her constant presence wherever he went. Gods forbid she not be nearby to address his every request. So, the reporters spotted her and directed their salacious questions to Sanji, looking for juicy gossip that didn’t exist.
Because she was not, by the way, swooning over him. As far as she was concerned, Vinsmoke Sanji could keep his dashing good looks and debonair charm all to himself. It was enough that her job meant she had to deal with his persnicketiness, his constant demands on her time, his chaotic schedule. She had no room to add a crush on him to her already extensive list of responsibilities.
Peri never even would've taken this job- despite the fact she was a damn good personal assistant- if her last job hadn't imploded and if her friend, Tak, hadn't gotten her the referral.
***
“Come on, it's perfect!” Tak pleads with her. “You'll move up the career ladder from pigheaded, rude as hell businessman to movie star.” Tak fans her hands through the air theatrically as she says this. “And we'll get to work together all the time! Perfect!”
“I don't know, Tak,” Peri groans, face shoved into a pillow on her bed. “There's no way I'm getting a reference from that bastard. How am I gonna get past a background check to work for a celebrity?” Peri groaned into her pillow again, for emphasis.
“Don't worry about that, Peri. I'm the only one Sanji will let touch his hair and Rachel loves me. I'll talk to her about your situation- generally, no details, so stop glaring at me- she'll give you a chance, I promise.”
Peri held onto her glare for a few seconds longer, before dropping her head back to the pillow, smushing her cheek against the plush material. She knew Tak was right and she needed to capitalize on the immense benefits of having a best friend who was the sole hair stylist for the premier celebrity of the East Blue. Peri had even met Sanji's agent, Rachel a handful of times through Tak towing her along to posh social gatherings. Though she hadn’t done more than see Sanji from afar across a crowded room of VIPs.
“What would I do without you, Tak?”
Her best friend shivers, wiggling her shoulders and holding her palm up. “Please, Peridot, don't make me think about it. Your life without me is too bleak to contemplate.” Tak winks at her and Peri laughs.
Maybe things would be okay.
***
Wrong. Things were not okay. Those were the catalyst (catastrophic?) events that led her to sitting across from an eager-eyed reporter, staring at Sanji hungrily as she asked, “Sanji, the readers are dying to know. Your assistant is always close at hand these days-” a suggestive eyebrow raise, “Is she a fan of yours?”
Peri is sitting right here. At the same table! Because she's an outstanding professional, she resists rolling her eyes (and throwing her coffee at the woman, though her fingers twitch against the mug menacingly).
Sanji smiles good-naturedly at the reporter. “Ah my assistant is with me today because-” Peri tenses as Sanji drapes his arm around the back of her chair though he doesn't touch her, leaning in towards the reporter as he takes on a conspiratorial tone. “We're waiting for some important news today. I didn't want Peri too far away when it came.”
This piques the reporter's interest. “Oh? This wouldn't have anything to do with rumors about a new Smith Stiegal film in the works, now would it?” Peri didn't miss the way the reporter eyed Sanji's hand lolling near her shoulder. Her eyes hawkish, like she didn’t want to miss a suggestive brush of Sanji’s fingers against Peri’s shoulder. There wouldn’t be one.
“Now Miss Asher, I couldn't possibly say could I, darling?” Sanji smiles smoothly at the reporter, withdrawing his arm and any acknowledgement that Peri is at this table drops away.
Miss Asher attempts to get Sanji to dish out a few morsels regarding the rumored newest action adventure film in the works from renowned director Smith Stiegal (which Sanji obviously cannot confirm or deny). All the hard work she put in to make these interviews even happen, brushed off and replaced with greedy hopes that some lucky reporter would catch her blushing at the movie star. Peri stews, recounting the earlier conversation that landed her at this table- being treated as if she's a fan waiting for her turn to take a picture with Sanji instead of the person responsible for him even being at this interview.
***
“My darling periwinkle,” (not her name) “I need you at that table with me today! Please, love, understand! The call about the role could come from Rachel at any moment. I want to be right there when you get it.” Sanji's pleading smile was irritatingly puppy-dog-like (and very annoying, not at all adorable).
“Sanji,” she said, shaking her head. “I don't know. This interview is with East Q magazine. They're a big deal. I'm not sure it's appropriate for your assistant to be at the table. I'll be nearby. You'll be the first person to know if Rachel calls.”
Sanji pouts. “Come on, Pear-” (also not her name, but Sanji had taken to calling her that and occasionally producing an actual pear to gift her with, which she braced for now and, oh wait-) Sanji produces a single pear-green rose from behind his back. “Please stay with me? This is a big moment for me, Pear. I need-” He broke off abruptly, looking down at the rose extended in his hand, then back up into her eyes. “I need my assistant at my side. I'm afraid I can't budge on this, Peri.” (that was her name, and an indicator that Sanji has slipped into serious, boss mode).
Peri sighs, taking the proffered rose out of Sanji's hand and lifting it to her nose, letting the delicate floral scent soothe her. “Okay, Sanji. I'll be there.”
Sanji's answering smile is gorgeous, just like everything else about him. A large part of her hated letting Sanji get his way, which was rather bothersome when her entire job mostly centered around making sure things went exactly Sanji's way.
***
Sanji's previous assistant- an older gentleman named Harold- had decided to take an early retirement. Or, had he been forced into it rather than suffer through one more pandering socialite conversation, Peri thought darkly as the interviewer continued to lavish praise on Sanji. Peri mostly tuned them out. They’d talk about her like she wasn’t there anyway, she might as well pretend not to be.
A half hour after the interview with East Q wrapped, the call from Rachel finally came. Sanji and Peri were still seated in the private room at the cafe where Miss Asher conducted her interview, the remnants of lunch spread on the table before them.
At the first ring of Peri’s phone, Sanji drops his fork, bouncing out of his seat. “Bloody hell, Pear. What if they didn't pick me for the role!? What if this is the beginning of the end of my entire career!?” He runs both hands through his hair, mussing it to match his distress.
“Sanji, calm down, you're going to get the role,” Peri says, rising from her seat as she presses accept on the call. She was very confident she was right. Everyone wanted a piece of Sanji right now. She had to admit (begrudgingly) that he was an excellent actor. Electric on screen. Smith Stiegal would be wild not to capitalize on Sanji's talent and popularity.
“Rachel, hi!”
“Peri, is Sanji with you? Are you alone?”
Peri resists another eye roll. Of course Sanji is with her- Sanji's always with her these days. “Yes, Rachel, I'll put you on speaker. We’re alone.”
“Great! Sanji?”
Sanji rakes an anxious hand through his hair again. “Rachel, yes, what did they say?”
“You've got the part, Sanji!”
Sanji blew out a relieved breath and even Peri couldn't help the grin that broke across her face. Sanji stares at the phone in Peri's hand held between them, speechless as Rachel gushes about how excited they are to work with Sanji. Then, before Peri can compute what's happening, Sanji's arms are around her, gripping her waist tight, lifting her off her feet as he spins them in a circle.
“We did it, Peri!”
A laugh sneaks out of her before she can stop it. But Sanji's joy is infectious and soon she’s giggling.
“A Smith Stiegal movie, Pear! I can't believe it! This is huge!” He finally stops spinning them, setting her down on wobbly feet. His arms loose around her waist, her arms (phone still in hand) dangling around his shoulders.
She feels a little breathless as she says, “I told you that you'd get the part. Congratulations, Sanji.”
Sanji coughs, taking a step back, his arms falling away from her. “Thank you, Peri.” His smile is sheepish.
“Hello? Hello? Peri? Sanji? Are you listening to me? What’s going on?”
Peri remembers the phone clutched in her hand. “Rachel! So sorry, what was that?”
“I need you and Sanji down at the office asap. The lawyers are on the way to review the contract and the schedule for shooting.”
“Of course. We'll be there right away.” Peri ends the call, looking up to a smiling Sanji, his cheeks tinged with pink.
***
Peri is left to her own devices (literally as she types away, responding to scheduling requests for interviews, photoshoots, etc. for Sanji) while the contract negotiations take place. Her mind wanders back to Sanji's surprise hug.
As aggravated as Peri gets with Sanji's demands on her time and requests for particulars, he's never inappropriate with her. Or, rather, not inappropriate in a way that made her want to break his nose and shatter her employability in the entirety of the East Blue. Sanji was charming, he was flirty. She was used to this. He generally directed it towards her at a lower wattage than he dialed it up for his fans and professional contacts. Sinfully suave and wickedly beautiful- that's just the way Sanji came.
But during her stint as his assistant, he had always been respectful of her. Sure, there were the nicknames and the occasional gifted fruit (and that single rose today), but Sanji never made her feel uncomfortable or worried for her safety with him. And the nicknames just felt so…Sanji. Integral to who he was. He’d slipped into using them with her slowly and so naturally that she’s actually not sure how long it took her to notice it. It’s hypocritical, she knows, to not be offended by it because it’s Sanji. When she would be offended if it were someone else. She’s decided not to investigate this too deep though- it just doesn’t fit in her packed calendar. -=a3NB A
He had never hugged her before. His anxiety and relief today had been so genuine, so human. And of course, Peri knew he was a person too. Albeit an obscenely famous person, but still, human, like her. It was just that, today, it almost felt like they were friends. If hadn't felt like her boss crossing an inappropriate physical boundary with her. It felt like a friend receiving life changing news and celebrating that with her. Peri didn't know what to do with that bizarre realization.
“Peri, we need you in here!” Rachel pokes her head out of her office, waving Peri inside as the team of lawyers file out.
“What's up?” Peri asks, settling into the chair beside Sanji.
“Pear, love, do you have any of those mints I like?”
Peri rummages around in her tote bag for the mints in question (the only brand, Sanji insists, whose minty flavor isn't disgustingly artificial). She drops one into his open palm, her attention on Rachel.
“So here's the deal, Peri darling, the schedule for the movie is full steam ahead. They want to begin table reads on location in two weeks. So-”
Peri interrupts, picking up on a couple keywords. “On location? They want us where in two weeks, exactly?” Narrowing her eyes at Rachel’s clearly placating tone.
“Well, you see darling, Stiegal wants a very authentic feel for the movie, so it's not going to be filmed here in Vennport. Stiegal’s crew is already all set up on Crow Island, so you'll just need to get Sanji’s affairs in order and head on over.”
This was theoretically fine. Movies filmed at a location outside of Vennport is common enough, though Peri hadn't yet traveled outside of the city with Sanji for any filming. What really made her aware that Rachel was asking for something challenging was the way she clacked away on her keyboard and took on an air of nonchalance as she delivered this information. Rachel was not nonchalant. She was direct, sharp, no nonsense but in a decidedly theatrical way.
“Is this fourteen business days Rachel or…?”
Rachel huffs. “Next Friday. They need Sanji there by next Friday.”
“Okay, that's ten literal days from now.”
“Yes, dear. So you'd better get to planning, chop chop.”
“Rachel. That's like a five day trip at sea to get to Crow Island! Also, isn't that a known pirate port?”
“The movie is about pirates, Peri. Hence the authenticity.”
Peri was authentically losing her faith in Smith Stiegal's organization and planning skills. Seems like they could’ve given Sanji and the agency a bit more time to prepare for a trip. But this was the industry, demands moved fast and she was expected to keep up.
“So, to summarize, I need to plan and prepare for a months long trip that we need to leave for in five days?”
“I knew you'd understand, you're a peach.”
“Pear,” Sanji muttered. At first she thought he was requesting her attention, but when he didn't look at her or go on, she realized he was simply correcting Rachel's fruit name of choice. Peri shakes her head, bemused.
There was really nothing for it. Peri would start with plans immediately. She was already running through her mental rolodex of travel companies the agency worked with.
“Oh and Peri, don't worry about the security detail. The production company has a whole team over there and the agency will of course send a few personal bodyguards along to look after Sanji. Just connect with Sal and he'll make sure you're set.” Rachel waved her hand in a dismissal.
Peri hadn't been worried about security. Everywhere Sanji went, agency-provided security guards came along. It was protocol. Necessary for Sanji's safety. Peri wasn't afraid of pirates- at least not in theory. But the way Rachel casually mentioned the production company's security detail made her wonder if she ought to be. Crow Island was well known in this part of the East Blue for it's breathtaking vistas (not that Peri had ever been) and it's rowdy pub scene (rumored to service many a pirate partaking in leisure activities). Honestly, most of the stories about Crow Island she'd heard involved debauchery, not dodgy pirates. Then again, maybe Rachel was just worried about Sanji getting into a different kind of scandal. The press will certainly look for anything to sensationalize (for example, a P.A. doing her job).
She turns to Sanji. “Can you get home on your own today? I'll call the car for you. But I need to speak with Sal and start booking accommodations.”
Sanji stood to follow her. “It's okay, Pear, I'll wait for you.”
High seas forbid, Sanji find himself without her and in need of a mint. Leading the way out of Rachel's office, Peri allowed herself an eye roll Sanji couldn't see. Once the door closed behind them, Peri turned.
“Sanji, honestly, it's going to be hours. I've got so much to get done and you've got the rest of your afternoon free, for once. Go enjoy it! Rest.” Peri claps her hands together. “Oh! Pack! That would be helpful. You can get started on the basics.”
“When are you going to pack?” Sanji asks. Peri shrugs dismissively, already moving down the hall to find Sal.
Sanji jogs to catch up, surprising her for the second time that day with a hand at her elbow, stopping her.
“I'll go home.” Sanji pauses. Long, slim fingers still wrapped around her arm. “Ask Sal to send Elle and Robbie with us. They're both excellent at their job.” With that, Sanji releases her arm. “See you tomorrow, Peri.” And walks away, leaving Peri's skin tingling where his hand had been.
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