#alexander pierce au

[sjsmith56]

The Flame Burns From Within, Part 1 - Negotiations

Summary: The arrival of three strangers at the castle of Ser Anthony of House Stark, signals the start of negotiations for the hand of his niece, Lady Arden Worth.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Lady Arden (OFC, described), Lord James Barnes, Ser Anthony Stark, Lady Stark, His Highness, the Duke of Long Isle, Steven Rogers, Ser Samuel Wilson.

Warnings: Age gap (OFC is 21 while Lord Barnes is 32. She would be considered old for her first marriage during this time period). Description of the status of women in the 15th century as property, description of the death of Lady Arden’s parents, arranged marriage.

Author notes: Set in the 15th century AU where America is a sovereign kingdom. Spain has only recently returned to Catholic control after some time of being a part of the Moors empire (they were Islamic). It would take some time for the remaining Muslims to leave or convert to Catholicism. AI image in banner created by author using MS Copilot app in Designer mode. Borders found at vecteezy.com.

Part 1 - Negotiations

Lady Arden

The gates to the courtyard opened and the delegation from the Citadel were welcomed into the keep of my uncle's castle. I watched their arrival from the window of my chambers, as my presence wouldn't be needed until later, after the three men who rode in were formally welcomed by my uncle and legal guardian, Ser Anthony of House Stark. Ever since my parents died of the wasting disease when I was still a child, he had overseen my preparation for life as the lady of a great lord. Unlike some of the fathers and guardians of other young women of my ilk, he had been rather progressive towards my education. Where others had been taught to walk and speak with grace, while learning the arts of needlework, music and art, my uncle had made sure I could do all of those, plus ride a horse, handle a sword, learn foreign languages, read and write more than just my name, and above all else, to carry myself as one who was as capable as any man. It was certainly not the usual life of a young woman.

My uncle had his reasons for my unusual upbringing; some of which he shared with me. Where other young women of my stature were being married off to whomever was politically in favour, in addition to receiving a generous dowry, my uncle was more interested in a particular man to become my husband. Lord James Barnes of the Citadel was his goal; a consummate warrior, well educated, able to speak several languages due to his travels, and the most powerful lord of our region. He had already been sought as husband for any number of simpering brides that didn't interest him. Rumours circulated by the unsuccessful families seeking to install their daughters as his lady said that he was a lover of men, or was damaged in body and spirit by his travels in dangerous lands, but my uncle had heard through unofficial sources that he preferred an accomplished woman to become his consort, as he saw value in intelligence above all else. By promoting my unconventional education, my uncle was certain that word of me would eventually reach the ears of those at the Citadel whose task it was to find a suitable mate for the great lord. That day had finally come.

That's not to say there weren't bumps in the road to this occasion. There are always men who want what they see as different or even exotic. Before I turned 14 my uncle was being offered great wealth for the promise of an engagement with any number of eligible sons. Several great houses in our land, Walker, Rumlow, Pierce, even Dreykov in the Russian region far to the east across the sea, had amped up the pressure for my uncle to accept one of their own as my future husband, but he wouldn't even entertain the offers that came over the years. It was some time before he shared that his goal was to align his house with the Citadel, and nothing less would interest him.

As I approached my 21st birthday, an age considered old for marriage, rumours began of my own shortcomings as a prospective bride. It was said I was vain, unattractive, too heavy, too thin, too unhealthy, defective in mind and spirit, even that I was barren due to the wasting disease that had killed my parents but had spared me. Knowing I was none of those, I always held my head high. At public occasions I was visible, open, and friendly with those around me. I acted as I had been taught; that I had a place in society, and it would be one of influence no matter if I were the wife of a great lord or not.

Thus, the arrival of the three men from the Citadel on that cool autumn afternoon was proof that my uncle had properly read the situation. It was clear that I was of interest to the most powerful lord, seen as an important counsellor for the next king himself. As the three men dismounted, they stood in their travelling cloaks, heads still covered, removing their gloves and, in the way of men of action, taking note of their surroundings. I could see that they assessed the guard complement in the keep, while searching the walls of the castle itself to see if their arrival had been noted. That is when one of them pulled his hood back, revealing a bearded man of dark-hair and eyes of blue like the ocean. He made eye contact with me from his place in the courtyard. A hint of a smile crossed his face then I stepped away from the window when he turned to his companions. His looks matched the description of Lord Barnes, but it was unusual for the head of a great house to personally attend the negotiations for a marriage. Until I was summoned for dinner, I wouldn't find out who he actually was.

My aunt, a strong and confident woman in her own right, sought entry to my chambers shortly after the arrival of the three men. She entered with a complement of maidservants, intent on preparing and dressing me in a way that emphasized my best features. With my tall build and red hair, that I was born with, the colour of which had only deepened over the years of my existence, there wasn't much else to be done to make me more visible. I had drawn attention from many sources my whole life. Even my name, Arden, was different as it meant "little and fiery." Although I was no longer little, I was often referred to as the Flame of the Forest, for I usually took my daily ride there with my hair unencumbered by coverings.

After much fussing over the various dresses, they chose a blue one, trimmed with lace and a brocade border. Its full sleeves ended at a wide brocade cuff. My hair, left long, was brushed until it gleamed, then a portion was twisted and fastened at the back of my head. My colouring was usually high, so no additional applications of powder, charcoal or berries were needed to accentuate my features. By all the accounts of my uncle's inquiries, Lord Barnes was known to prefer a natural appearance. Regardless, as my aunt regarded my appearance she smiled in approval.

"If they don't acknowledge your physical appearance, they are blind," she said, with authority. "You are a vision, Arden."

"Did you see their arrival?" I asked. "There were three and one fit Lord Barnes' description."

"Yes, but I was not presented to them when they entered so I cannot confirm that gentleman was him," she answered. "I will be presented to them in the great hall then you will be sent for."

"May I wait in the library?"

It was my favourite place in the castle. When my uncle first discovered me in there after taking me into his care, he could have sent me away but apparently, I offered him a book and asked that he read it to me. Seeing the title, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, my uncle took it as a sign of my innate intelligence and determined then that I would be educated in the same manner as any young man of high standing. In that sanctuary, I spent many hours reading of far-off lands, great heroes, and tragic loves.

With my aunt's approval, I relocated to the library and pulled out the copy of The Canterbury Tales, one of less than a hundred in existence according to the Bishop, as they were hand lettered and illuminated by monks who spent weeks or even months creating them. The time and effort it took to create a book meant the possession of more than a handful was a sign of great wealth. Our library had hundreds. This book was a favourite of mine and I sat down at a table in the late afternoon sun. I had only been there a brief time when I heard the door open. Assuming it was my aunt, I closed the book and stood up to return it to its proper place. Instead, it was the dark-haired man who entered, dressed in richly brocaded clothing. At his discovery of my presence, he bowed his head briefly.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady." He spoke in a voice that was deep and rich. "Ser Anthony did not say anyone would be in here."

I curtsied to acknowledge him. "He was unaware of my presence here," I answered. "I sought some comfort from Chaucer."

He approached and extended his hand to receive the book, looking fondly at the title.

"Which one is your favourite?" he asked.

"The Wife of Bath's Tale, of course," I smiled then spoke freely. "I have been raised to believe that I am equal to any man but not all men believe the same. It is my hope to be blessed with a husband who freely gives me my sovereignty."

He smiled warmly. "It is one that I enjoy reading as well, although I am not meek, or submissive. I take it that you are the Lady Arden. I am James Barnes, Lord of the Citadel. I am at your service, my Lady. It was you in the window overlooking the courtyard, was it not?"

"It was, sir," I replied. "I was curious about you accompanying your courtiers for the negotiations. That is why you are here, is it not?"

He seemed amused. "You are correct that my travelling companions will undertake the negotiations on my behalf. I accompanied them to meet the Flame of the Forest herself. Word of your beauty has travelled far and contrary to the rumours which swirl around us both, I am pleased to find that the positive reports are quite true." He opened the book and glanced inside. "Your education appears to be superior to other women of your status if you find comfort in a library. Your skills on a horse and with a sword are also based on truth, according to my sources."

I could have been elevated by his declarations, but I wasn't, not completely. Even though it was proof of my uncle's contention that I would be of interest to this handsome and powerful man, there was still a part of me that remained wary. At that moment, the door opened, and a servant announced to Lord Barnes that Ser Anthony wished to present his wife and niece. He then announced that I was to present myself in the Great Hall. Looking at the shelf, Barnes immediately spotted the place where the book belonged and returned it to its spot. Then he bowed graciously to me and left. With a breath to calm myself I exited the space and stood at the top of the stairs for a moment before descending.

Lord Barnes was already at the bottom of the large staircase, with his travelling companions, a man with dark blond hair and a darker beard, and a man of Moorish descent, both dressed as he was, in fine clothing as befit their stations. Although I didn't know who the blond man was, the other was well known as one befriended by Barnes on his journeys in the Spanish peninsula. Taking the Christian name of Samuel Wilson, he had become famous throughout our kingdom for his chivalry. All three men watched me closely as I descended alone down the great stone staircase, no doubt to assess the grace of my movements. As the wife of a powerful lord, I would constantly be looked upon as a symbol of his house. My comportment would be seen as either a benefit to his stature or a hindrance to it. When I reached the bottom, my uncle smiled and extended his hand to me.

"May I present my niece, Lady Arden Worth," he said simply. "Lady Arden, may I introduce you to Lord James Barnes, of the Citadel, his Highness, Steven Rogers, the Duke of Long Isle, and their trusted friend, Ser Samuel Wilson."

The blond man was Steven Rogers, the Duke, grandson of the king and third in line for the throne. No wonder Barnes seemed amused when I described him as a courtier. That alone required a deeper curtsy than what I gave Lord Barnes in the library.

"My Lady," said Barnes, taking my hand to raise me from my lowered position. "The Duke is here as my closest friend and has agreed to act as a negotiator for the marriage arrangement. May I escort you to the dining hall?"

To refuse would have been considered rude so I placed my hand on his forearm and allowed him to lead me to the dining hall. The Duke escorted my aunt, which was puzzling, since he should have led us all, considering he was of the higher echelon of nobility. My uncle and Ser Samuel brought up the rear of the party. Footmen pulled our chairs out, then assisted in pushing them closer to the table as we settled. I noticed the arrangement of cutlery in our places, a knife and fork, specifically. Although I had been exposed to using them it was still surprising as most of the nobility thought that forks were an affectation of the Italians; a sign of hubris that they were too proud to dirty their fingers as they ate. In our nation most of the nobility dispensed with any utensils, other than using a knife to spear a portion of fowl, or roast, then bite into it with their teeth and allow the juices to run over their faces and onto their clothing. It was obvious by how our guests used their utensils to cut the meat into smaller bites, that they were well used to eating in the new fashion.

"You were successful in finding my library, Lord Barnes?" asked my uncle.

"I was Ser Anthony," he replied. "A fine library at that. You must spend many pleasant hours there."

"When I have the time. Lady Arden is there often. She has likely read everything in there at least once, even the texts in French or Latin."

"Is that true?" he asked me in French. "You are fluent in those two languages?"

I answered him in French. "Yes, in Spanish and Italian, also. My uncle invested a lot of money in language tutors."

He said nothing about our meeting in the library, but he looked at my uncle with a degree of surprise and approval. Apparently, four additional languages were more than he was expecting. The look exchanged between Lord Barnes, the Duke, and Ser Samuel was subtle but telling. I had the feeling that even with the reports they had commissioned about my attributes I was still something of a mystery.

After dinner, my uncle disappeared into the library with the Duke and Ser Samuel with the intent of beginning the negotiations. My aunt went up to help settle my cousins for bed. That left me and Lord Barnes alone.

"Is there a garden where we can walk before it gets dark?"

"There is."

I led him out to the formal gardens, walking along the gravelled path between the displays of hyacinths and mums which were still blooming. The trees, which were casting off their green colour, were displaying some yellow, red, and orange hues. As the sun approached the horizon, the golden light it projected lent a soft glow to everything. We stopped at a pond briefly, then the wind came up and I shivered. Although it had warmed slightly since Lord Barnes arrival, I wore only a shawl over my dress, not enough to stay warm as it darkened.

"We should return to the castle," he said. "I wouldn't want you to catch a chill on my account."

"As you wish, my Lord," I answered, mindful of his superior status. "There is a small conservatory in the castle, with a fireplace where we can keep warm and still enjoy the plants around us."

He agreed to go there and by the time we arrived a fire had been lit, and a tray with a decanter of wine and two metal goblets were on a table. As I sat, he poured out some for each of us, then joined me on a padded bench built into the wall near the fireplace.

"To your good health," he said, before sipping his drink

"And to yours," I replied, sipping my own. "You know this is unusual. Allowing us to be alone."

"I requested it. Too many of my peers have arranged their marriages through intermediaries without meeting until the wedding day. Both parties experienced disappointment more often than not. I vowed never to make that mistake." He gazed steadily at me. "If there is anything you wish to ask me, I am open to your inquiries."

"Where have you travelled?" It was something I was genuinely interested in, having never left the country myself.

"I have been as far east as Greece, to the northern shore of Africa, Italy, Spain, France and Brittania. There have been journeys north of our kingdom, but it is still mostly wilderness and those who have lived there for eons are not the friendliest, with reason considering how our ancestors first treated them. The Northmen still have settlements there and have a truce with the original inhabitants. We do have trading relationships with the Northmen, as you know. Most of my travels was accompanying the Duke as his Majesty desired to know those who have the closest relationships with our country. We met Ser Samuel in the portion of Spain that had recently thrown off Moorish control. He agreed to stay with us as we found each other's company engaging. Since his Arabic name of Saqr Sama Allayl or Falcon of the Night Sky, was often mispronounced by those who were unfamiliar saying it, he asked for a Christian name to go by while he travelled our lands. The name Samuel in Arabic means prophet and seer. Wilson was suggested as a common last name. It has made his travels here easier. When he returns ... if he returns, he will revert to his given name."

There was a lot of information in his answer, but he obviously found value in knowing about the people in other realms. Placing his goblet down, he picked up the poker and adjusted the wood in the fireplace, as if he were used to taking care of such things himself. He sat next to me again.

"Have you travelled?"

"Alas, no, although I have read many accounts of different journeys, such as those of Marco Polo, The Travels of John Mandeville, and others. I have great admiration for the women who journeyed with Eleanor of Aquitaine to the Holy Lands. I wish someone had thought to document their journey."

"As my wife I would request that you accompany me on my travels," he mentioned. "It would be your choice but the alternative would be spending a significant amount of time apart, which is not conducive to marital harmony."

"What about children? Travelling with an infant would be an issue, wouldn't it?"

"Depends on the destination."

We were quiet again, with only the crackle of the fire to listen to. When the moon's glow appeared through the window, Lord Barnes stood up and turned to me.

"I believe I will retire now. May I request the honour of riding with you tomorrow?"

I stood up. "Of course. I usually ride in the morning an hour after breakfast. If that is acceptable to you."

"It is."

He bowed to me and left, leaving me puzzled to his sudden and arbitrary departure. My aunt arrived shortly after, and we returned to my chambers where she questioned me on what Lord Barnes and I spoke about.

Lord Barnes

As I walked to my chambers, I reflected on the time spent with Lady Arden. Her beauty was unmatched by any other woman I had ever seen. How Ser Anthony had managed to keep her isolated enough to avoid a kidnapping and forced marriage I will never know but it was imperative that we formalize our marriage as soon as possible. Since I first glimpsed her in the window, then spoke with her in the library, I had been unable to think rationally of anything or anyone else. Steven and Samuel were already in my chambers on my arrival, having ceased the negotiations at moonrise, which prompted my departure from the conservatory. They both turned to me as I entered and bolted the door, then checked the hidden passageway for listening servants. Steven handed me a goblet of wine.

"Well?" I looked at both expectantly. Steven answered.

"She is the only survivor of the House of Forrest. Ser Anthony confirmed it. She was brought to him by the housekeeper of the House Forrest, after they were attacked by the forces of House Pierce. Of course, they were not wearing the insignia, but she recognized several faces as Pierce's men. Lady Forrest pressed her daughter into the care of that woman, and they escaped via a secret passage that let them out a mile away. Even in the passageway she could hear as Pierce's men slaughtered the entire family. You know he would have taken her to keep for one of his sons, or his nephews and cement his acquisition of their lands."

"It was he who said he made a social call the following day and found the family dead of the wasting disease. Then he burned their castle to purify it and took their lands for himself, although he calls it a stewardship until the missing heir is found." I was angry at such villainy. "She doesn't know the truth, does she?"

"No, upon the housekeeper's arrival, Stark swore her to secrecy and claimed the child was his orphaned niece. She believes she is the daughter of his sister, Lady Worth and Ser Louis of House Worth from a sudden bout of the wasting disease. His position as godfather to Lady Arden guided him in her upbringing. It was her father's wish she be given every opportunity to be as educated as well as possible. He is aware of the betrothal document which is why he indicated his preference for your favour. That was late in being made known as he was under the impression for some time that you were aligned with House Pierce."

I looked at Samuel for his opinion. "That is understandable. You feel his vow of fealty to House Barnes is now honestly offered?"

"I do. Ser Anthony is a rare individual. He is a man of truth and honour, and both he and Lady Stark love the young woman as much as one of their own. His dowry request is for her benefit, not his, so that she is independently wealthy in the event of your death. Otherwise, he only requests an alliance with the Citadel. It may be that he fears reprisals if Pierce realizes the true identity of Lady Arden so would require the strength of your garrison to protect him and his family."

"Accept his terms. We'll read the banns as soon as possible, then I will apply for a marriage license so that the normal time period can be waived. As soon as it is approved, I will send for her to come to the Citadel for the marriage ceremony. With luck, we can be married after a fortnight. If there are any objections, then I can produce the original betrothal contract between our parents."

Steven placed a hand on my arm. "It will come to pass, Buck. I have faith."

"I hope you're right," I replied, draining my goblet. "Now that I have seen her, I cannot think of ever marrying another woman. By the way, we're going riding tomorrow, so we'll have to stay another night since you'll be engaged in negotiations during the day."

"Alone?" Steven and Samuel smirked at each other. "Is that wise?"

"We were alone this evening when we walked in the garden and when we sat in the conservatory, drinking wine. I'm a changed man. No more brothels or courtesans for me. A woman of her quality deserves a husband who will remain steadfast and faithful. It is my intention to be that type of husband for her."

"If you say so," remarked Steven, draining his wine. "Come Samuel, let's leave Lord Barnes to have sweet dreams of the Lady Arden."

I gave him a rude gesture then locked the door behind them. As I disrobed, I felt encouraged by their report. When our spy in Pierce's castle brought us proof of his part in the death of Lady Arden's parents, I knew the day was coming for the man's part in many similar incidents. He amassed his wealth and power by undermining the rule of law we were all supposed to live under. Even if it wasn't his men who performed all his suspected crimes, his alliances with the Walker and Rumlow houses meant he had them as his accomplices and co-conspirators. With his end game believed to be an attempt on the throne, we needed to be careful not to tip our hand too soon.

The following morning, we took breakfast with the Stark family, and I met the younger children, three daughters. The oldest was dark, like her father, while the other two resembled their mother with their fairer features. They were very well behaved, and I observed Lady Arden's interaction with them, curious about her suitability as a mother. They seemed fond of each other, and it was obvious that they were also being raised in the same manner as Lady Arden had been, for they spoke extensively of stories they wrote for each other's pleasure. They spoke French and Italian easily, making each other laugh. Their commentary was enjoyable, even bringing grins to Steven and Samuel's faces. The oldest child, Morgan, dared to ask Samuel about his childhood in Spain, then listened with rapt attention as he told her about his first time hunting with a falcon under his control.

When the meal was finished, Ser Anthony and my two friends repaired to the library to continue the marriage negotiations. Lady Arden excused herself to prepare for her daily horseback ride, agreeing to meet me in the courtyard of the keep. With the order given to prepare both of our horses I returned to my chambers to change into something more suitable for riding. I went out to check my horse, and found the care given to Soldier since our arrival the day before was exemplary. His coat gleamed in the warm sunlight. As always, he greeted me with affection, brushing his head against mine, then searching for the apple I usually gave him. The stable master offered me one and I broke it in two, feeding the pieces to him separately.

"He is a fine stallion," said Lady Arden's voice, behind me. "It is rare to find a fully black horse without a white patch somewhere on his body. Have you bred him yet?"

"Aye, he has sired a dozen foals in the past two years," I answered, before turning to look at her. For a moment, no words came out of my mouth as I took in what she was wearing. "This is your usual riding attire?"

She grinned and looked down at the short knee length skirt, and knee-high leather boots she wore. On her upper body she wore a tunic under a jacket that was styled in the same manner as a man's. It was scandalous but it also allowed her to have greater control over her horse. Her hair was loose and flowing down her back, brilliant in its colour that reminded me of a sunset or a smouldering flame.

"Do you disapprove?" she asked, almost daring me to forbid her from leaving the keep.

"No, it suits you," I answered, truthfully. I gestured to her horse, a beautiful grey mare. "Do you require assistance to get on?"

"A hand up, please," she answered.

Lacing my hands together, I boosted her up after she put her boot into them. She easily mounted the rest of the way, and I realized the many folds of her skirt hid the fact they were cut like trousers. It gave her as much control over her horse as a man would have. I mounted my horse and signalled to her to lead the way. With a nod to the stable master, we left the keep and began with an easy canter towards a wooded area. She slowed up once we were well out of eyesight. Looking back at me, she waited for me to ride beside her.

"You go out on your own?" I asked. "Are you not afraid of being accosted?"

"I can defend myself," she answered, then reached into her boot and pulled out a long knife, flipping it over in her hand before reinserting it. "Minerva is fast and can outrun almost any horse in the area."

I wondered if she would be so unconcerned with her personal safety if she knew who she really was, but it wouldn't be my place to tell her until we were married, so I kept my observation to myself. As we rode, I took time to scan our surroundings. It was evident why she chose this area. There were many trees already covered in the finery of autumn. The reds, golds, and oranges were everywhere. Whenever a breeze came up, we were showered with the leaves pulled from the branches. It was peaceful and, in her company, I found myself relaxing just enough to forget the affairs of state.

At one point, she glanced at me then nudged her horse into a gallop. I watched with admiration as her hair flew behind her, proving the moniker Flame of the Forest. She was beautiful and magnificent, and if I had my way, she would be my wife in just over a fortnight. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would be safe from those who wanted her for their own purposes.

Note about The Wife of Bath’s Tale. It recounts the story of a knight who is accused of rape. He is given a year to find out what it is women most desire, in order to spare his life. An old crone says she will tell him if he agrees to her request. He agrees and she tells him that women desire sovereignty over their own lives more than anything. When he offers the answer to the courts he is spared and he returns to the old crone to fulfill her request. She demands that he marries her. Since he is a knight and is bound by his oath he agrees. In bed on their wedding night she asks if he would like an old ugly wife who is faithful or a beautiful one who is faithless. He leaves the decision to her, declaring himself bound to it. For his honesty and concession to her she becomes beautiful and faithful, and they live happily as husband and wife.

Saqr Sama Allayl or Falcon of the Night Sky - From Google Translate

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[braveclementine]

New York

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

They landed and Tony watched Steve as he headed out first, his shield on his arm. "All right, we all have our assignments. Two stones uptown, one stone down. Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock."

They all watched suddenly as a Hulk leaped down, smashing an alien with a wrecked car. Steve turned to look at Bruce, "Maybe smash a few things along the way."

Bruce ripped his tank off. "I think its gratuitous, but whatever."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

"Better hustle Cap, things look like they're just about wrapped up here." Steve heard Tony said into his com.

"Got it. I'm approaching the elevator right now." Steve replied.

"Mr. Rogers I almost forgot that, that suit." Tony chuckled. "Did nothing for your ass."

"No one asked you to look, Tony." Steve sighed.

"It's ridiculous." Tony responded.

"I think you look great, Cap. As far as I'm concerned, that's Americas ass." Scott said next.

The elevator doors opened and Tony took up another position to watch as Natasha handed the scepter over to Sitwell.

"Who are these guys?" Scott asked.

"They are S.H.I.E.L.D." Tony said in a low voice. "Well, actually, HYDRA, but we didn't know that yet."

"Seriously? You didn't?" Scott asked, but Tony was more watching Y/N as she laughed with 2012 Tony and watched his old self wrap an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek, before touching her stomach which contained not even born yet Everleigh. "I mean, they look like bad guys."

"You're small, but you're talking loud." Tony muttered.

"On my way down to coordinate search and rescue." 2012 Steve said, hurrying past. Tony smiled a little, watching Loki turned into Steve and repeat, "On my way down to coordinate search and rescue." Then he turned back to himself. "I mean, honestly, how do you keep your food down?"

"Shut. Up." Thor said, slapping the gag over Loki's mouth. Tony felt a little sad, watching the cheetah that was Elizabeth rub her head against Loki's leg. He wondered, not for the first time, if it had been a good idea letting her go to Asgard.

"Ooh. All right. You're up little buddy." Tony said. "There's our stone."

"All right." Scott sighed, "Flick me." He flicked ant man, then back up and fell out the window.

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"All right Cap I got our scepter in the elevator." Steve listened to Tony in his ear. Steve already had a bad taste in his mouth from what came next. "Just passing the eightieth floor."

"On it." Steve said, pressing the elevator button. "Head to the lobby."

"All right, I'll see you there." Tony said.

Steve watched as all of the Agents in the elevator gave a start upon seeing him. He said not a word, simply stepping into the elevator.

"Captain." Sitwell said. "I thought you were coordinating search and rescue."

"Change of plans." Steve said, getting next to Rumlow. He remembered when the piece of filth had put his hands on Y/N. . . multiple times.

"Hey Cap." Rumlow said.

"Rumlow."

He knew everyone's hands were reaching for their guns.

"I just got a call from the secretary. I'm gonna be running point on the scepter."

"Sir? I don't understand." Sitwell said, turning to face him.

Steve looked around him and then said, "We got word there may be an attempt to steal it."

"Sorry, Cap." Rumlow said. "We can't give you the scepter."

"I'm gonna have to call the director." Sitwell said, pulling out his phone.

"That's okay. Trust me." Steve said in a loud voice then leaned in to Sitwell, who leaned into him. He bit back all of his pride and then said, "Hail HYDRA."

And then he walked out of the elevator with the scepter.

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"Thumbelina do you copy? I've got eyes on the prize." Tony said, dressed like a security guard. He watched himself walk out with Y/N's hand in his. "It is go time."

"Bombs away." Scott said. "Is that Axe Body Spray?"

"Yeah, I had a can in the desk for emergencies. Relax. Y/N didn't care." Tony muttered. "Can we focus, please?"

"I'm going inside you. . . now." Scott said.

Tony watched as Alexander Pierce stopped them, "Um, maybe I ask you where you're going?"

"Um bit of lunch and then Asgard. I'm sorry, you are. . .?" Thor asked, clearly done with everything happening at the moment.

"Alexander Pierce." 2012 Tony said. "He's the man above the folks behind Nick Fury."

"Oh." Thor said.

"My friends call me Mr. Secretary." Pierce said. Current Tony wondered why Past Tony hadn't picked up on that when it came to HYDRA. But then again, HYDRA had been more the Captains' forte. "I'm gonna have to ask you to turn that prisoner over to me."

Elizabeth growled at Pierce and Pierce glared at her.

"Uh, Loki will be answering to Odin himself." Thor answered.

"No, he's going to answer to us. Odin can have what's left. And I'm gonna need that case. That's been S.H.I.E.L.D. property for over seventy years." Pierce continued.

"Hand over the case Stark." Another guard said.

"All right, move it, Stuart Little." Tony said urgently, hearing Y/N join in, her voice sounding rather angry though he couldn't make out the words. "Things are getting dicey out here. Let's go."

"You promise me you won't die?" Scott asked.

"We're only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia." Tony muttered.

"That doesn't sound mild."

"I need the case." Pierce demanded.

"Do it, Lang." Tony growled.

"Get your hands off me." 2012 Tony snapped.

"Window's closing. Pull my pin."

Y/N shoved one of the guards away from 2012 Tony angrily. Elizabeth growled threateningly, snapping at a guard that got to close to her.

Suddenly, 2012 him dropped, falling on his face on the floor.

"Medic!" Tony called lazily and the call was repeated.

"Stark is it your chest machine?" 2012 Thor asked, leaning over him.

"Tony?" Y/N begged, cupping his cheek, looking worried.

Scott kicked the suitcase away and Tony scooped it up. "Nice, meet me in the back alley, I'm gonna grab a slice-"

He went flying as the door he went to go through smashed into him, Hulk rushing out. The case skirted out of his hands and he watched as Loki looked down at it, looked around, and grabbed the cube. Elizabeth touched him and the two were whisked off. Tony felt his heart drop.

"No stairs!" Hulk snarled.

"That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?" Scott asked.

"Oh, we blew it." Tony mumbled.

"Loki?" Thor shouted.

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

"Tony what's going on?" Steve asked as he turned another corner in the hallway. "Tell me you found that cube." He stopped, looking in front of him. "Oh you gotta be shitting me."

He watched himself raise a hand and say, "I have eyes on Loki. Fourteenth floor."

"I'm not Loki-" Steve said. "-and I don't want to hurt you."

His younger self charged at him. Their shields started to clash together and they started to fight. The younger Rogers kicked him and Steve landed on his side.

"I can do this all day."

"Yeah, I know." Steve sighed, getting to his feet. "I know."

They threw their shields at the same time, which clashed with each other, their shields falling down over the catwalk they were standing on. Whose stupid idea was it to build this cat walk with literally no way of safety. Either Tony or Y/N and he could only imagine it being Tony.

The scepter fell below as well as they kicked out the glass siding. He went to flip himself over, but thrusted to far and the two of them fell off the catwalk as well, crashing through another glass ceiling, and then tumbling down a flight of concrete stairs.

Steve got to his feet and saw that the younger one had his compass in his hand, "Where did you get this?" He growled. It fueled his rage, making it possible for him to wrap his arm around Steve's neck, bring him to the ground.

The two of them rolled, but Steve knew that his younger self had a hold over him. "Bucky. Is. Alive."

"What?" the other Steve let him go.

Steve grabbed the scepter, pointing it at his own chest, and he fell unconscious. Steve panted, grabbing the compass and standing up. He looked down at his unconscious self for a moment and then said, "That is America's ass."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Steve landed in the alleyway that they were supposed to, scepter in hand, shield in the other.

"Cap." Tony said. Steve turned to see him and Scott sitting in a ruined car. "Sorry buddy, we got a problem."

Scott laughed, "Yeah we do."

Tony explained what had happened to the tesseract, "And so yeah. Loki has it and him and Elizabeth are off god knows where."

He wondered more if this was going to affect his future/present with the Elizabeth he knew. If she had gone with Loki. . . and that hadn't happened before.

"So what do we do now?" Steve asked.

"You know what? Give me a break Steve." Tony snapped, angry. But more at himself most likely. "I just got hit in the head with a Hulk."

Meanwhile, Scott was freaking out, "You said that we had one shot. This was our shot. We shot it. It's shot. Six stones or nothing. It was six stones or nothing."

"You're repeating yourself." Tony said. "You know that?"

"You're repeating yourself, you're repeating yourself." Scott snapped.

"Dude. Come on!"

"You know! No! You never wanted a time heist, you weren't on board with the time hesit-"

"I dropped the ball."

"You ruined the time heist."

"Is that what I did?"

"Yeah!"

"Are there any other options with the Tesseract?" Steve sighed. He was also wondering if when they went back- if they went back and lost again- if Elizabeth would still listen to him, or if she would think he was just saying it to stay with her because she was the rebound. Second hand. He wanted to kick something in frustration.

"No, no, no, there's no other options." Scott scoffed. "There's no do-overs. We're not going anywhere else. We have one particle left. Each. That's it. All right? We use that, bye-bye, you're not going home."

"Yeah, well, if we don't try- then no one else is going home, either." Steve said sharply.

"I got it." Tony said, scrambling out of the car. "There's another way to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. Little stroll down memory lane. Military installation, garden gate." Tony said, only talking to Steve now.

"When were they both there?" Steve asked.

"They were there at a time. I have a vaguely exact idea."

Steve gave him a look, "How vague?"

"What are you talking about? Where are we going?" Scott asked.

"I know for a fact they were there." Tony said slowly.

"Who's they? What are we doing?"

"And I know how I know." Tony finished.

Steve looked around.

"Guys, what is it? What is it?"

"Uh looks like we're improvising." Steve said, though he felt a little weird about it.

"Great." Tony said.

"What are we improvising?"

"Scott, get this back to the compound." Steve demanded, shoving the case that had the scepter into his hands.

"Suit up." Tony said.

"What's in New Jersey?" Scott asked.

"0-4."

"0-4." Steve repeated.

"Uh, 0-7."

"0-7."

"Hey! Excuse me."

"1-9-7-0."

"Are you sure?"

"Cap? Captain? Steve? Sorry. America. Rogers. Look, if you do this. . . and it doesn't work. You're not coming back."

"Thanks for the pep talk Pissant." Tony said. He turned back to Steve, "You trust me?"

"I do."

"Your call."

He thought about it in seconds. Get Bucky back. Keep Elizabeth and his daughters. Or go home now and possibly lose literally everything over insecurities he didn't realize Elizabeth had. It was an obvious choice.

"Here we go." 

[skyler10fic]

Lightning Strikes Twice Ch. 12

Summary: The battleplan commences as Pierce tells Natasha of Yon Rogg's impending arrival.

Read on Ao3

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

“Ms. Romanov!!!” Alexander Pierce shouted from his office.

“Yes, sir?” The redhead walked in, dressed in her typical office blazer, blouse, and pencil skirt. With her tablet in hand and hair in loose waves, no one would suspect she was any more lethal than the average intelligence agency secretary.

“Mr. Rogg is arriving in one hour. Ensure he gets his usual treatment. None of this rigamarole with the line at registration. You will escort him directly to my office.”

“Very good, sir.” Natasha waited. “Anything else, sir?”

Pierce considered her carefully. It held his leering—that, she was used to—but also respect.

“You have a keen sense of judgment, Ms. Romanov. What do you think of this Mr. Rogg? Do you think we can trust him?”

Natasha was genuinely taken aback. “In what way, sir?”

Pierce turned his office chair to the skyline view of LA. “Mr. Rogg may have a special opportunity for us. A mission only I can complete. And I’d like your assistance, if you don’t mind a little field work. We’ll have to get you a new uniform, of course.”

“A uniform, sir?”

Pierce chuckled. “Shopping, Ms. Romanov. Something that you can travel in. Put it on your company card.” He winked. He often referred to the agency as his “company”—a habit that secretly grated on everyone’s nerves.

“Thank you, sir. You know how we girls love our shopping.” A more perceptive man would have caught her playing directly into his bias, but Pierce’s ego was too inflated this close to victory.

Pierce turned to her and stood. “I have one more task for you, Ms. Romanov. There’s a new enhanced recruit downstairs. Carol Danvers. We will need her on this mission as well.”

Natasha feigned concern. “A recruit, sir? Has she even completed her field testing?”

Before Pierce could answer, his computer dinged with a notification. “Ah. Mr. Rogg is heading over early. Fetch Ms. Danvers and send her up before he arrives, won’t you? We’ll meet for an initial briefing in one hour.”

Natasha turned to leave, stomach knotting with anxiety about the rushed timeline but outwardly as cool as a cucumber.

“Oh and Ms. Romanov?” he paused as Natasha turned back to face him. “Just tell her I have picked her for this mission on her demonstrated merits and accomplishments under Agent May’s guidance. No reason to bring Mr. Rogg into this; it’ll just confuse her. I’ll explain all she needs to know in the mission briefing.”

Natasha nodded in obedience. “Yes, sir.

“One hour, back here, field work ready.”

“Yes, sir.” Nastasha set off in the direction of the elevators down to the training center, but she made a pit stop at Phil’s floor first. She knocked at his office door.

“Come in!” he called. “Ah, Agent Romanov, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Phil wore his reading glasses and a plaid shirt, with a navy blazer draped across the back of his chair. Typing away at his computer like that, he almost looked like an average history professor rather than a chief strategist at an intelligence agency so secret that even other intelligence agencies considered it an enigma.

“Director Fury would like to see you in his office. Something about Project Pegasus. I think its planning deadline is coming up soon.”

Pegasus was their code word for their effort to protect Carol, namely because she could fly in ways others could only dream of. If Natasha or the others heard of Yon-Rogg and Pierce putting their kidnapping plan into motion, or any danger to Carol, they could work the code word into the conversation and meet in their secure conference room.

“Thanks, I’ll head up. Oh, and have you seen my daughter around today?”

Natasha frowned. “Sorry, I haven’t seen her. If I do, I’ll send her your way.”

In other words, Skye didn’t know that Pierce was on the move to take Carol. With luck, Skye would be at the training center with Melinda, Carol, and the enhanced recruits, but between her status as an enhanced agent and as a cybersecurity prodigy, Skye could feasibly be working anywhere in the building.

Phil typed on his computer. “Thanks. She is definitely around here somewhere according to her phone location.”

Natasha smirked and leaned against his doorframe. “Be honest, did you ever put a tracker on her before she worked here with a Shield phone? Or get tempted to?”

Phil relaxed for a moment and chuckled with fatherly affection. “Oh yeah, I wanted to. From the day she arrived. She was always running off after her own curiosity and wonder, faster than we could keep up. Given how she arrived, though, Melinda thought it was too much of a risk, in case someone came looking and hacked the tracker.”

“Wise woman.” Natasha stood up straight. “I better get going, Agent Pierce has a visitor arriving soon. In about an hour, I’m supposed to find out my first field assignment.”

“Ah. Good luck.” Phil understood exactly what she meant. In reality, of course, Natasha had more field experience than nearly anyone, but coded as office chit-chat for the sake of anyone who might be listening or simply overhearing, she was giving him the urgency of the timeline for their plan.

“Thanks. See you around.”

As soon as she was gone, she knew, he’d head to the secret conference room. She just had to get to Melinda and Carol before Yon-Rogg arrived. If Pierce planned to take her to space with him as his assistant, she’d have to show unwavering loyalty to go along with her undercover ruse so she could keep Carol safe and return her to Earth. The point of Project Pegasus, however, was that it didn’t get that far, metaphorically and astronomically.

—---------

Natasha changed clothes into more flexible material, and she alerted Melinda and Carol that it was go time. With Melinda’s clearance level, they were able to bypass all other floors on the elevator ride up from the training center to the secret conference room. Skye was waiting for them with Phil and Maria Rambeau when they arrived.

“This isn’t going to work.” Carol fiddled with the communications equipment Fitz had brought in. “I don’t know the codewords they are using to verify their identities, and they are already waiting for us for the mission briefing.”

Fury and Maria Hill popped up on the conference room screen. Fury announced, “I have a plan B if you’re taking suggestions.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Maria Rambeau began as Maria Hill screen-shared an image of a shiny new spaceship. “Welcome to Saber.”

[wellwhatnowlove]

Raise your hand if you want more Rhonna and Calloway content in book 6 BOOK 7

[laiqualaurelote]

chapter five - don’t love nobody, it’s not worthwhile

The snare drum hissed as raucous laughter spilled from the audience packing the Arc. Wanda rolled a shoulder, the spotlight catching every glinting crystal of her ruby-red chemise, and winked. “All right, that’s enough jokes. It’s Saturday night, Soho, and I want to see you shake this floor till you break it.” She nodded at the bandleader. “G minor, maestro, and put a little heat under it.” To the saxophonist she said: “Ready to blow, honey?”

“I am Groot,” replied the saxophonist.

“And don’t we know it.” Wanda cocked a hip and snapped her fingers. “A-one, a-two, a-five six seven eight—”

In Jazz Age New York, aspiring artist Steve Rogers, in search of his missing friend, enters a glittering underworld of speakeasies, gangsters and spies, presided over by the maddeningly enigmatic Tony Stark. 1920s Prohibition era!AU

[buckets-and-trees]

Now That I Saw You

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Finally home from the work trip to Norway where things changed with your boss, you are uncertain about what the future means exactly, but eager to see him again. Sequel to What You Want.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, body reverence/worship, use of "plum" as a term of endearment, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: My August entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the BODY WORSHIP prompt and week 3 of Hot Bucky Summer hitting up that SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE prompt.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Normal breathing, you thought to yourself as the driver pulled up the drive of the massive estate of Alexander Pierce, one of the senior partners of the law firm where you worked. This was your first time attending the firm’s New Year’s Eve party since you’d only begun working for Bucky in the early spring, and although you were only Bucky’s assistant, you had heard enough directly and indirectly to know that making an appearance here mattered. Bucky had insisted that you didn’t need to feel obligated to come – especially since he’d kept you away from your family over Christmas when the weather had made it impossible to fly home from the business trip to Norway. He had even insisted on paying for flights for you to go straight home instead of making the long drive to your hometown.

What he didn’t know was that you had called and changed your return flight from January 2 to December 31.

Bucky was close to making partner, and you wanted to show that you were one of the small but dedicated team he had in his office that took their work supporting Bucky seriously.

And while being home for some delayed holiday time with your family had been nice, the longer you were there, the more you were itching to get back to New York and figure out what life was going to look like with your boss post-Norway.

Five days of normal business followed by the three “stranded” days of Nordic adventures, shopping, sightseeing, dining, spoiling, and so much sex. So much sex.

With Bucky.

Your boss.

A valet stepped up to open your door as the Uber driver stopped in the circular receiving area of the driveway at the front of the mansion. As you stepped out and began walking up the steps, you were glad you went with the modest heels rather than the strappy high heels your best friend had tried to coax you to pick when you FaceTimed her while getting ready. Since you were nervous about enough other things, you didn’t need to worry about your shoes tonight.

Things like the bolder shade of lipstick you’d put on, or the sexiest dress you’d ever worn, or simply the fact that you didn’t know where everything that happened in Norway left you with Bucky Barnes.

Minor things to trifle over, really.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

As you approached the coat check, you couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding you. The foyer was a masterpiece of marble and gold, with a grand staircase sweeping upwards and crystal chandeliers twinkling overhead. You were enveloped by a pleasantly thick scent of gardenias and champagne, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and tinkling laughter from the rooms beyond.

You slipped off your coat, revealing the dress you'd agonized over for hours. It was a deep emerald green, hugging your curves before falling in a silky waterfall to your ankles. The neckline dipped low, and the back was even lower, leaving you feeling both sophisticated and slightly exposed.

The attendant handed you a small golden ticket in exchange for your coat, and you tucked it carefully into your clutch. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead. The butterflies in your stomach were performing an intricate ballet, a mix of excitement and nerves that left you feeling slightly lightheaded.

As you turned to face the grand ballroom, you were immediately enveloped by the soft glow of candlelight and the gentle tinkling of champagne glasses. The room was a vision of elegance, with towering floral arrangements adorning every table and shimmering gold accents catching the light. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversation and laughter, the tinkling of champagne flutes, and the soft strains of a live orchestra.

You took a tentative step forward, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The sea of designer gowns and tailored suits was intimidating, and you found yourself second-guessing your decision to attend. Just as you were considering a hasty retreat, a warm, familiar voice called your name.

"Hey there, stranger! I was hoping you'd make it tonight."

You turned to see Steve Rogers, Bucky's best friend and fellow lawyer at the firm. He approached, moving with a swift grace as he always did, his broad shoulders filling out an impeccably tailored navy suit, a glass of champagne in each hand. He’d be intimidating if you hadn’t forged a wonderfully warm friendship over the past months working in the office. You admired how much he wanted to take care of those around him, unafraid to speak up whenever needed, and equally ready to make someone smile.

Even now, the tension in your shoulders eased at the sight of him and his bright smile.

“Bucky will be happy to see you!”

You ducked your head a moment, taking a sip of the champagne he offered. “He will?”

“I don’t think he could tie his shoes anymore without you,” Steve exaggerated, but the compliment warmed your insides anyway.

Steve offered you his arm and then led you further into the party.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the event. Everywhere you looked, your eyes drank in more exquisite details infusing the atmosphere. You passed by a magnificent ice sculpture of the firm's logo, its edges glinting in the candlelight. You passed by tables laden with delicacies from around the world - tiny caviar-topped blinis, glistening oysters nestled in beds of ice, and delicate pastries that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Waiters in crisp white jackets glided effortlessly through the crowd, their trays balanced with flutes of golden champagne and jewel-toned cocktails.

You couldn't help but feel a bit like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Each new sight was more wondrous than the last. To your left, a living statue covered in shimmering gold paint posed gracefully atop a pedestal, her movements so subtle you had to blink to be sure she was real. To your right, an aerialist in a glittering silver bodysuit performed breathtaking feats on silks suspended from the vaulted ceiling, twirling and spinning in mesmerizing patterns.

Near them, a group of women in shimmering gowns laughed melodiously, their jewelry catching the light with every gesture. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking. You noticed Alexander Pierce himself holding court near a grand fireplace, his silver hair gleaming as he regaled a captive audience with what was surely a riveting anecdote.

As you and Steve wove through the crowd, your eyes continued to roam, searching for one face in particular. The anticipation built with each passing moment, your heart quickening its pace. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, your gaze was pulled across the room to finally land on Bucky Barnes, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was newly trimmed since you last saw him, sleek in a way that made your fingers itch to rake through it and over his scalp. He was engaged in conversation with a small group, his head thrown back in laughter at something someone had said.

Suddenly, Bucky's attention shifted to you, his eyes locking onto yours across the bustling room. The laughter died on his lips, replaced with a bit of wonder and an impossibly charming grin. Immediately heat was pooling in your stomach, nerves somewhat calmed, but a different itch pitching inside you.

The world seemed to slow down as Bucky excused himself from his group and began making his way towards you. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him approach, his eyes never leaving yours. The crowded room seemed to part for him, or perhaps it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

As he drew closer, you could see the slight widening of his eyes as he took in your appearance. His gaze traveled slowly from your face down to your toes and back up again, lingering on the curves accentuated by your dress. When his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your skin tingle and memories of your time in Norway together flash vividly through your mind.

"You're here," Bucky said softly as he reached you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I thought you were still with your family."

You smiled, trying to keep your voice steady. "I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's okay?"

"More than okay," he murmured, his eyes still roaming over you appreciatively. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself," you replied, taking in his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

Steve cleared his throat beside you, reminding you both of his presence. "I'll leave you two to catch up," he said with a knowing smile, giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Suddenly alone with Bucky, you felt the air between you crackle with tension. The noise of the party faded into the background as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze.

"Can I get you a drink?" Bucky asked, gesturing towards the bar.

You lifted your half-empty champagne flute. "I could use a refill," you said with a smile.

Bucky's hand found the small of your back as he guided you towards the bar, the possessive heat of his touch sending flames radiating across your skin. You were acutely aware of every point of contact between you, rejoicing and regretting over choosing the dangerously low and exposed back that allowed him skin to skin access in this moment.

As you waited for your drinks, Bucky leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Since Norway, you’ve been on my mind constantly.

Your heart raced at his words, memories of passionate nights, morning, afternoons, and so many stolen kisses streaming through your mind. "I couldn't stay away," you admitted softly. "I needed to see you."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze dropping to your lips. For a moment, you thought Bucky might kiss you right there, in full view of everyone. But he seemed to catch himself, remembering where you were. Instead, he reached past you to collect your drinks from the bartender - a flute of golden champagne for you and a tumbler of amber whiskey for himself.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice husky and filled with promise. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he led you away from the crowded ballroom.

Your heart raced as you followed him down a dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the party fading behind you. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. His fingers tightened around yours as he glanced back, a roguish glint in his eyes.

At the end of the hall, he paused before an ornate wooden door. With a quick look around, he turned the handle and drew you inside. You found yourself in a luxurious study, shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls and a grand desk dominating the center of the room.

Bucky took your glass and his and set them on the desk. Then his strong arms encircled your waist and drew you to him. "We shouldn't be in here," you whispered, even as excitement coursed through your veins.

"Shh," he replied, pulling you closer. His lips found yours in a searing kiss that made your knees weak. You melted against him, hands roaming over the broad planes of his shoulders.

As Bucky's lips moved against yours, all thoughts of propriety and caution melted away. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers curling into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, pent-up longing and desire pouring out between you.

Bucky's hands roamed your back, tracing the exposed skin left bare by your daring dress. And the way he touched you? Reverently worshipping the curves and plump flesh you were usually so insecure about? This was why you dared to show more than you typically did. He made you believe you were gorgeous. His touch ignited sparks along your spine, each caress stoking the fire building within you. You gasped as he nipped at your lower lip, using the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth.

The taste of whiskey on his lips mingled with the lingering champagne on yours, creating an intoxicating blend that left you dizzy with want. You pressed yourself closer, desperate to eliminate any space between your bodies. He slipped a finger beneath the strap on your shoulder and pushed it down, tugging until he freed one of your breasts. He hummed as he began to palm it with his large hand, and you arched into his touch.

Suddenly, Bucky broke the kiss, and spun you around. You gasped and brought both hands out to steady yourself on the edge of the desk.

Bucky's lips traced a burning path down the curve of your neck, pausing to nip gently at the sensitive spot where it met your shoulder. You shivered as his warm breath ghosted across your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. His kisses continued their southward journey, open-mouthed heat following the elegant line of your spine.

Each press of his lips felt like a spark igniting your nerve endings. The cool air of the study contrasted sharply with the heat of his mouth, creating a delicious tension that had you trembling. As he moved lower, his hands skimmed down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips with reverent appreciation.

As Bucky sank to his knees behind you, his hands slid down to your hips, his breath now teasing the small of your back. The anticipation built, your heart racing as you felt him gather the silky fabric of your dress in his hands, lifting it inch by tantalizing inch. The whisper of the material against your skin was electric, heightening every sensation. When he reached your hips, he paused, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your panties.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Slowly, reverently, he began to peel your panties down. The delicate lace clung to your curves before giving way, sliding down your thighs.

You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed skin, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Bucky's hands caressed your thighs, urging them apart, his touch both soothing and electrifying. You could feel his hot breath against your most intimate areas, causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky groaned, his voice husky with desire. "Missed tasting you."

Without further preamble, he leaned in and ran his tongue along your slit, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter as he began to explore you with his mouth, his skilled tongue alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, acutely aware of the party continuing just down the hall. One of his hands snaked around to caress your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations had you panting, struggling to keep quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. The thought of being caught only added to the intensity of sensations swirling through your body.

Bucky's tongue worked magic between your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. Your legs trembled as the pleasure built, threatening to overwhelm you. You bit down on your lip, desperately trying to muffle the moans that threatened to escape.

"Let me hear you, plum," Bucky murmured against your heated flesh. "I want to know how good I'm making you feel."

His words sent a shiver through you, and you allowed a soft whimper to escape.

Encouraged, Bucky redoubled his efforts, his tongue circling your clit with increasing pressure. One of his hands slid up your inner thigh, and you gasped as he slowly pushed two fingers inside you.

The dual sensations of his tongue on your clit and his fingers curling inside you had you seeing stars. Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his face as you chased your release. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Just as you were about to tumble over the precipice, the sound of approaching voices in the hallway made you freeze. Panic mingled with arousal as you realized how exposed you were, bent over the desk of what had to be Alexander Pierce’s private study.

But Bucky was undeterred, and you bit your lip to stifle your moans, acutely aware that you were in a semi-public space. The thought of getting caught only added to the thrill, your arousal only surging more, lapped up by his wicked tongue. He worshipped at the altar of your sex with so much devotion, you weren’t quite ready to think about the implications of yet.

Bucky's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The voices in the hallway grew closer, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"Bucky," you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. "Someone's coming."

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. "Then you better come first," he murmured, his voice muffled but determined.

The voices in the hallway grew louder, and you could make out snippets of conversation about quarterly reports and market projections. Your heart raced, torn between the need for release and the fear of discovery.

Bucky, however, seemed to relish the added excitement. His ministrations became more intense, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive bud while his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. The combination of pleasure and danger pushed you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," Bucky whispered against your heated flesh, his breath sending shivers through your body. "Let go, plum. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. The tension that had been building inside you finally snapped, and you came with a silent scream, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. Bucky's touch gentled, his fingers slipping out of you as he pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs. The voices in the hallway faded, moving past the study door without pause.

With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, your breath still coming in quick passes. Bucky helped drop the fabric of your dress back down to the floor and rose to his feet behind you. He turned you back around to face him and brought you back into his arms. You could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against you, but he seemed unconcerned over seeking his own relief.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "So beautiful when you come undone for me."

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your still exposed breast before then bringing your dress back up and over your shoulder, setting it completely right again.

Your hands slid up to loop around his neck. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly swollen from his ministrations.

"That was…" you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Amazing," Bucky finished for you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you.

But before either of you could be tempted into anything else, the voices in the hall returned.

"I'm telling you, Alexander, the Ultron account is a goldmine waiting to happen," a booming voice declared footsteps drew closer.

Bucky quickly reached for the drinks on the desk, pressing your champagne flute into your fingers. The he dipped to the floor, snatched up your panties, and pocketed them. You bit your lip, and he smirked at you.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Wilson, but I'm not convinced the risk is worth the potential reward," came Alexander Pierce's measured reply as the door opened.

"Barnes! There you are," Alexander Pierce's voice boomed as he entered the study, followed by two other senior partners. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure everyone could hear it.

Bucky turned, his body language relaxed and confident despite almost being caught in a compromising position.

"Mr. Pierce," Bucky greeted smoothly, his voice betraying none of the tension you felt. "I was just showing my assistant the impressive library you have here. We both share a passion for rare first editions."

You nodded. "It's truly remarkable," you managed, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

Pierce's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between you and Bucky, but his expression remained neutral. "Indeed it is," he said, moving towards one of the bookshelves. His hand swept over one of the shelves. "I'm particularly fond of this Hemingway collection. However, I’m afraid I can’t entertain you with its history and how I had to hunt them down presently. I’m actually glad we found you, Barnes. We have some urgent matters to discuss regarding the Stark Industries merger. I’d like to bring you in on it, if you’re game."

"Of course, sir,” Bucky nodded, his professional mask slipping for only the briefest of moments, but you saw the excitement there for the opportunity presented.

"Excellent," Pierce said, clapping his hands together. "Gentlemen, have a seat." He turned to you, his smile polite but dismissive. "Thank you for your interest in the collection, and, please, enjoy the rest of the party."

You nodded, understanding the clear directive. "Of course, Mr. Pierce. Thank you for your hospitality."

As you moved to leave, Bucky caught your eye. His gaze was intense, filled with unspoken promises. "I'll find you," he mouthed silently, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you slipped out of the study, leaving Bucky to his impromptu meeting. Your mind was reeling from the events of the last few minutes - the passionate encounter with Bucky, the near-miss of being caught. Mostly, though, you were happy you had come after all and were eager to spend the rest of the evening with Bucky. At a party like this where business and pleasure stood side by side, you knew the host couldn’t be gone in his study for long, and then Bucky would return to your side, and you’d be able to ring in the New Year just right.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

It's been SO LONG since we've seen these two! I hope it was a nice return to them.

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - XIII

�� summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 3,325.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 13

Time turned into an indistinct blur, while your breath seemed to freeze in the air. Before you, the man emanated an intimidating aura, his presence filling the small space of the tent with palpable tension. Every detail of his face, sculpted by shadow and dancing light, seemed like a macabre work of art, a mixture of mystery and imminent danger. His dark eyes, deep and penetrating, held yours as if they had the power to probe your soul. And you, paralyzed in front of this spectrum of strength and mystery, could barely utter a single word.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He chuckled, watching you with interest shining in his dark eyes. Those words, tinged with a touch of humor, echoed in your ears like a distant echo of a distorted reality. Was he mocking you?

"It's because I'm seeing one." You scoffed, your tone laced with disdain as you stared at him firmly, barely able to contain the fear from spreading through your body. He clicked his tongue in disgust at your tone.

The man looked inside the tent, his interest piqued by the surrounding environment. "You look good." He commented, his voice carrying a casual tone, but his expression still enigmatic and impenetrable.

"Why did you bring me here?" You finally asked, your fists clenching as you stared at the man with disgust and a slight fear shining in your gaze.

"All in good time, my dear." He hummed in response, his relaxed tone contrasting with the tension that hovered between you. He approached you, his imposing presence filling the space between you as you struggled to maintain your composure in the face of the uncertainty of what would come next.

"Do not play with me." You spat, your voice filled with suspicion and a hint of suppressed anger.

He arched an eyebrow, a subtle smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm not." He replied seriously, his dark eyes boring into yours with piercing intensity, "I'm not messing with you, sweet girl. Everything I've done has a purpose." His voice echoed in the tent, filled with a conviction you struggled to understand, as the mystery around you seemed to deepen even further.

You felt even more suspicious and uncomfortable with the man's words.

Who was he? Or rather, what was he?

"Who are you?" You finally asked, your jaw clenched in a mix of nervousness and defiance.

"I have several names." He purred in response, a chilling sensation running down your spine as he circled around you like a wary predator, "But you can call me Aslan for now."

Aslan? For now? The name echoed in your mind, loaded with a meaning that you could barely begin to understand.

"What do you want with me?" You frowned, your voice thick with tension and distrust.

“What I want doesn't matter, but what you want does.” He replied calmly, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that made you uncomfortable.

What do you want?

"Are you mocking me?" You rolled your eyes, frustrated with his evasive answers, "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Aslan." Your words were spoken firmly, a mixture of irritation and determination evident in your voice. You were going to get answers one way or another.

He laughed darkly, and involuntarily, a chill ran down your spine at the laugh that escaped the man's lips.

"Be patient, my dear. I'll explain everything to you, but for now..." He stopped talking when he heard a commotion outside your tent.

''Finish speaking.'' You ordered, your voice firm and determined, demanding answers in the face of the growing intrigue and urgency of the situation.

He smiled, a mysterious gleam dancing in his eyes, "You're learning to act like a Queen."

You looked him straight into his dark eyes, ''I am one.'' Your statement was delivered with unwavering confidence, your identity and position clearly defined, even amidst the confusion and uncertainty that surrounded you.

You were a Queen. You were the Queen of Macedonia, and as strange as that title still sounded in your ears, it felt right when it left your lips.

Aslan smiled widely, his features softening with the confidence of your words, ''You are.'' He confirmed, his voice filled with respect and recognition, as he slowly headed towards the flap of the tent.

''Where are you going? We're not done talking!'' Your words came out in a rush, your gaze narrowing with each step he took towards the exit.

''Duty calls me.'' He sang, his voice filled with mystery and promise, ''But I'll be back soon. We have plenty of time to talk, (Y/N).'' Aslan bowed slightly and left before you could utter another word.

''Aslan...'' You uttered his name, or one of his names in this case, and was strangely pleased with the sweet way it fell from your lips. Why did he look so familiar? Your fingers gripped the hem of your traditional Persian dress, your nails digging into the soft fabric.

You would have the answers soon, you were sure of that. But for now, there was something more pressing to deal with. You needed to meet Darius in person, a meeting that promised to be crucial to your future.

Darius's tent was exactly as you expected it to be: extravagant. Even in the middle of a war camp, the Persian King did not give up his luxuries and comforts.

As you observed the opulence around him, you couldn't help but reflect on how that very extravagance may have been one of the reasons for Darius' downfall. His excessive indulgence and disconnection from the reality of the challenges he faced as a leader may have weakened his rule and undermined his authority among his people and his armies. Vanity and ostentation can be double-edged weapons, especially in times of conflict and political instability.

As you carefully observed Darius and a man who resembled him, your eyes wandered to the king, whose luxurious attire made it clear that he was Darius. You took in every feature of his features: his dark skin glowing in the golden light of the fire, his long black beard that complemented his face firmly. A faint smile curved his lips as you bowed respectfully before him, and his dark eyes softened slightly.

The similarity between Darius' imposing presence and Alexander's was remarkable, and you couldn't help but find it intriguing. Both possessed an enviable charisma, capable of attracting loyal followers and soldiers, even in the face of defeat and adversity. It was as if an aura of authority and leadership surrounded them, inspiring admiration and respect wherever they went. They were similar in that way.

Perhaps it was this magnetic charisma that allowed Darius to maintain a large number of loyal followers and soldiers, even after suffering defeats in battle. His commanding presence and ability to inspire confidence may have been crucial factors in maintaining his power and influence despite the challenges he faced. That was something admirable, and even though he was technically your enemy, you couldn't help but admire those traits.

''It's a pleasure to meet you in person.'' Darius's deep, calming voice sounded in your ears and you nodded slowly, hiding any possible nervousness. He seemed to know how to speak greek and that made you calmer.

"I say the same," You replied calmly, following Darius' lead and settling into a chair reserved for you, "Though it was unpleasant circumstances we found ourselves in." You couldn't help but poke him lightly, after all, he had kidnapped you. The tension between you was palpable, but you were determined to maintain diplomatic composure. You needed to ensure your safety above all else, especially now that you were pregnant.

Instinctively, your hand found its way to your belly, as if trying to protect the baby growing inside you. Darius's gaze followed the movement and rested on your belly, understanding the source of your apprehension.

"Nothing will happen to you or your child." He assured you calmly, his words filled with sincerity and empathy. A feeling of relief spread through you at his assurance, even though tension still permeated the air around you.

The presence of the man who resembled Darius, with malice shining in his eyes, further heightened your sense of unease. As Darius cleared his throat and called a name in Persian that you vaguely recognized as Bagoas, you knew you were looking at an intriguing historical character.

You knew Bagoas's name from contemporary records, which described him as a eunuch who had been the lover of both Darius and Alexander after the conquest of Persia. Your frown at this information was inevitable, and you stared at him as he entered the tent, carrying a jug of wine. Your eyes followed his every movement as he poured the liquid into three cups, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle glance he threw your way before disappearing with silent steps.

Darius took a sip of his wine and the other man did the same. Meanwhile, the wine in front of you remained untouched, as you knew that drinking alcohol during pregnancy was not recommended at all.

The other man finally decided to speak, his rough voice echoing in the tent. The greek that came from his lips was a little difficult to understand, but his words were clear, "We brought you here to negotiate."

Darius stared at the man disapprovingly and sighed, ''That's Bessus.''

Bessus. Uh-huh. This was bad. You knew this man and didn't trust him at all and it seemed like even Darius didn't trust him.

''To negotiate what?'' You raised your eyebrows.

''In exchange for your safety and life, Alexander must abandon the war and return home.'' Bessus replied, drinking his wine with great enthusiasm. You looked at him with disdain evident in your eyes. Did they really think Alexander would give up so easily? They will be fools then.

The idea that Alexander would give up so easily was absurd, and those who believed it were mistaken. Alexander was a formidable leader, determined to pursue his goals with fierce determination, and you knew he would never abandon the war without fighting until his last breath. He would rather die fighting than return as a coward.

"Alexander won't give up." You replied firmly, your voice thick with conviction, "He never will."

Bessus's expression was disdainful as he arched his eyebrow, "Not even for his beloved pregnant wife?"

You fought the urge to punch Bessus at his taunts and replied dryly, "Alexander will destroy the world for me, and you made a huge mistake by bringing me here."

There was a certain arrogance in your voice, but it was the truth. You knew the destructive power Alexander was capable of inflicting when provoked, and those who dared to defy him were playing with fire.

You remembered the stories about what he did to his enemies, to those who dared to cross his path or take what was his. His revenge was swift and merciless, sending a clear message to all those who dared defy him: there was no mercy for traitors and invaders. Darius and Bessus were in hot water when they decided to kidnap you.

''Let's talk, shall we?'' Darius interrupted the conversation between you and Bessus, sensing the animosity between you.

You nodded, even though you knew this conversation wouldn't get you anywhere. Their situation was complicated, and it seemed like they were about to face the consequences of their actions.

Every action has a reaction, right?

"My wife is not here?" Alexander's voice was low, but his fury resonated clearly in every word, his clenched fists denoting his intense emotion.

The generals present, Hephaestion and Ptolemy, seemed worried and fearful of the king's wrath. Finally, Hephaestion decided to take the lead, his expression carefully controlled to avoid further provoking Alexander's explosive reaction.

"She is not here." He said with the greatest caution he could have at that moment, his words chosen precisely to convey the truth without triggering an even more violent reaction from the King. The tension in the air was palpable, as everyone awaited Alexander's next response and the consequences that could follow.

"She's not here.'' Alexander repeated, his voice sounding louder, reverberating through the room. Ptolemy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of responsibility in deciding to speak,

"(Y/N)'s guards said they didn't find her in her tent when they woke up.'' He stated, holding Alexander's menacing gaze as long as he could, his expression showing both concern and determination.

Finally, the King snapped. His fists hit the poor makeshift table hard, causing it to fall with a deafening crash. Hephaestion fought the urge to shudder at Alexander's display of fury.

"So where is she?" Alexander asked, his voice filled with anger and despair, staring intensely at his two friends, "WHERE IS SHE?" The last question was shouted, echoing off the walls of the room and reverberating in the minds of everyone present. The tension reached its peak, as everyone awaited the answer with a mixture of apprehension and fear for what could happen next.

"W-We don't know!" Ptolemy was quick to say, fearing for his life, his words flowing in a torrent of fear. "We've done a thorough search of the entire camp and surrounding area, but there's no trace of her. It's as if she's disappeared."

"People don't disappear out of thin air." Alexander sneered, his penetrating and suspicious gaze scanning every detail of his generals' faces. His blue eye narrowed, emanating an intensity that made it clear he would not accept evasive answers or excuses.

Hephaestion decided to speak to try to help calm his friend, aware of the urgency of providing any information that could help or worsen the situation.

"According to the guards stationed at her tent, they were knocked out and the Queen was gone." He reported, his voice firm but filled with concern.

Alexander looked his friend in the eyes, his expression a mixture of anger and grim determination, "Who took her?" His question was uttered with increasing urgency, indicating that he would not rest until he found answers and brought his wife back safely.

Ptolemy and Hephaestion exchanged a heavy look of mutual significance. They knew Alexander wouldn't take this information very well. Betrayal was never something he dealt with easily, especially when it came from such a dear friend.

Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself for the coming storm, Hephaestion took the lead once again.

"Perdiccas." He said, his voice heavy with the weight of revelation as he faced Alexander's furious gaze. The words hung in the air, loaded with inevitable consequences, while everyone awaited the King's explosive reaction to the betrayal of one of his closest confidants.

"Perdiccas.'' Alexander repeated the name carefully, feeling a bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth.

Perdiccas.

His childhood friend, his trusted general, now revealed himself as the traitor who had kidnapped his wife. The reality of the situation hit Alexander with devastating force, a mixture of disbelief and fury boiling inside him. How could someone he trusted so deeply betray like this?

The feeling of betrayal pierced his heart like a sharp blade, leaving him furious and determined to carry out the worst punishment, torture known to man.

The fury building inside Alexander was like an uncontrolled hurricane, a primal force that threatened to devour everything in its path. His vision turned red, his mind flooded with images of violence and revenge. All he could see was a pool of blood and a cruelly mutilated body in the middle of it. Perdiccas' body.

He wanted revenge, revenge as brutal and painful as the betrayal he had experienced. The pain of being betrayed like that tore him apart, consuming him with an overwhelming rage that threatened to swallow him whole.

The idea of killing Perdiccas slowly and painfully took root in his mind like an obsession. He imagined every macabre detail, every torment he would inflict on the traitor, fueled by the relentless thirst to recover what belonged to him and the unbearable pain of betrayal.

With a herculean effort to contain his burning fury, Alexander finally managed to muster the strength to ask, "Where did he take her?"

"We don't know yet." Ptolemy replied, his eyes fixed on Alexander as he carefully assessed the King's reaction.

The answer seemed to echo in the room, filled with tension and uncertainty. Alexander was strangely restrained, his expression too controlled for the tastes of those present. This was worrying. Ptolemy and Hephaestion exchanged a quick glance, sharing their silent apprehension at what might come next. The approaching storm was invisible, but the tension in the air was palpable, foreshadowing a series of events that could change the course of history.

With palpable determination, Alexander finally made a decision. He stared at the broken table, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and resolve.

"Send all available men to search for any possible information." He ordered firmly, "Spread the news and whoever brings me information about my wife's whereabouts will receive a generous reward."

Ptolemy nodded in understanding and hurriedly left the tent, leaving Hephaestion and Alexander alone in the silent wreckage. The tension in the air was almost palpable, but beneath this layer of anger and worry, there was an unwavering determination that guided Alexander's every action. He was determined to find his wife, no matter the cost.

Hephaestion carefully approached Alexander, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alexander did not react immediately, his mind still absorbed in turbulent and bloody thoughts.

"Alexander?" Hephaestion's voice sounded gentle and calming, seeking to draw his friend's attention to the present.

"Hephaestion," Alexander replied carefully, his voice filled with determination and a focused intensity, "I want Perdiccas to be brought to me alive."

Hephaestion nodded silently, even though he knew Alexander wasn't looking directly at him. He perfectly understood the implicit meaning behind the order to bring Perdiccas alive.

Even without being asked, Alexander continued, his voice filled with determination and a calculated coldness, "I want to interrogate him personally, ask him why he betrayed me and stole my wife. And then, personally, I will torture him and kill him." The words were delivered with icy calm, but there was no doubt that each one carried a deadly weight.

Alexander's determination was unwavering, his mind focused on just one goal: getting his wife back, no matter the cost. He was willing to throw all of his power and destructive force against any obstacle that he dared to stand in his way.

Cities would fall, armies would be torn to pieces, and populations would be subjugated. Men would be killed, while women and children would be taken into slavery, all in the name of desperately searching for his beloved Queen. Alexander did not care about the human or moral cost of his actions; his fiery fury eclipsed any consideration of compassion or mercy.

The entire world would tremble at Alexander's wrath, for he was determined to leave a trail of destruction in his wake towards those who dared to defy him and take away what was most precious to him. His journey would be marked by blood, pain and suffering, but he would not rest until his wife was safe in his arms again, no matter what the cost.

He would recover his Lost Queen.

— lady l: And things get more and more complicated for the Persians, don't they? Poor things, they thought it was a good idea to steal a yandere's wife. There wasn't one to warn you, right?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I changed my writing style a little and I hope this pleases you. Feel free to send your feedback and I'll see you in the next chapter! Love you all!! ❤️

[sjsmith56]

The Flame Burns From Within, Part 3 - The Abduction

Summary: After spending the night together, Lord Barnes and Lady Arden attend church for the third reading of the banns. Lord Pierce makes his move.

Length: 5.1 K

Characters: Lady Arden, Lord Barnes, Ser Anthony, Lady Stark, Lord Pierce, Father Bruce.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains some sexual content which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18, desecration of a church, threats of violence against women and children.

Author notes: The image used in the banner above was found by a Google search on courtly love. It was attributed to several different artists but it appears to be an illustration of Tristan and Isolde by Marc Fishman. The divider is from vecteezy.com.

<<Part 2

Part 3 - The Abduction

Lady Arden

The first banns of my engagement with James were read at the church that following Sunday morning. I sat on the pew in between my aunt and uncle, for they were that in practice. Their affections for me were genuine as were mine of them. The fact we were not actually blood related made no difference, not when I had been part of their family for over 16 years. Several parishioners extended their best wishes on my upcoming marriage. Not all were as happy. The House of Walker, minus their son, John, who had been promoted as a potential suitor, made it known to my uncle that they were sorely disappointed not to be given the opportunity to counter whatever dowry offer the House of Barnes had made. His answer to them was direct.

"There was never an offer I would entertain from your house that would entice me to accept John Walker as a suitable husband. I'm sure there are other families who would be thrilled to align themselves with your house. Perhaps you should approach them."

As my aunt, cousins, and I entered the carriage after the service, we drove past the head of House Walker, who watched us with hostility then with outright anger at my uncle as he rode his horse beside us. Two days later, a representative of the House of Pierce arrived, also to express their "dismay" at not being allowed to counter the dowry offer. He gave the man the same answer.

"Don't go riding in the forest, Arden," said my uncle, after that man had left. "Don't go riding at all. There have been reports of several different heavily armed parties seen there. If they want to kidnap you that's where they would do it."

I listened to him as I had the same sense of impending trouble that he admitted to. Something was coming and without the presence of my husband and his forces, any excursion from the castle would be dangerous. I found myself thinking often of the brief time I had with James before he left, realizing he had been truthful with me in conceding our initial betrothal had been for strategic reasons. His confession that the brief meeting we had in the library prior to our formal introduction had awakened the stirrings of love within him had touched me in a way I wasn't expecting. The longing I developed for another tryst with him was almost more than I could bear.

My mother's ring that was placed on my finger during the wedding ceremony was kept behind the hidden panel in my bedchamber. I wanted to wear it on a chain but the chances of it being seen in church made it too dangerous to risk. On the second Sunday after my secret wedding, the banns were read again. This time, my uncle's men accompanied us to and from church, riding alongside the carriage.

The following day, we had word from the Citadel. The king was no longer besieged by a hostile force as they suddenly withdrew, leaving in the dark of night. With other houses willing to support the king's force in maintaining watch against another strike, James outlined his intent to come to my uncle's castle before the banns were read the third time. The day before his arrival, the Houses of Pierce, Rumlow and Walker made their move, surrounding my uncle's castle. With the gates closed and the drawbridge up, it was a stand off. They couldn't come in, but we couldn't leave. Fortunately, for us, an allied house sent a rider to the Citadel, alerting James to the siege. His force arrived early in the evening before the third Sunday, when the final reading of the banns would take place. My uncle and his men stood watch from the battlements, ready to aid Lord Barnes if the confrontation between his forces and the others evolved into battle. With my window open I could hear most of the communication between the three forces.

"You will disperse," said my uncle, presumably to the assembled men of Pierce, Rumlow and Walker. "The agreement has been signed; the third reading of the banns is on the morrow. Lady Arden will marry Lord Barnes."

"We object to the marriage," said a voice I recognized as Lord Pierce. "You have never negotiated in good faith with my house, or the House of Rumlow or Walker."

"On the contrary. I listened to your offers and didn't accept them. According to the laws of the land, your objection on that basis is not valid. Now leave, so I can receive my niece's intended husband."

"Why him?" asked the voice of John Walker.

I recognized it at once as I always thought it had a whining quality to it. Every time he greeted me at the chapel on holy days (the only time he made an appearance at church), it was as if he was begging me to notice him. His habit of ingratiating himself into a conversation was tiresome.

"Instead of you?" countered my uncle. "Perhaps because you have always allowed others to lead you around like a tame bull, content to be told where to go or what to do. Not once do I recall you thinking for yourself. My niece deserves better than that and Lord Barnes is a much better man than you."

It went on like that well into the evening. I didn't know how James could endure it, but apparently, he did. Everyone was waiting for someone to do something. I grew tired of it and went to my chambers. They could stay up the night and blather on, but I longed for sleep.

It seemed that I had barely closed my eyes when the sound of the door opening from the secret passage woke me. I sat up inside my curtained bed, listening to the rustlings of who was in my room. Reaching behind a hidden panel on the bed, I withdrew a dagger, kept there after the warning from my uncle about riding in the forest. As I perched on top of the bedclothes, fully intending to use the dagger against anyone who opened the curtains I heard a whisper.

"Arden? Are you awake, beloved?"

It was James. Somehow, he was inside the castle and now in my chamber. Pushing back the curtain on my side I saw him, visible in the light from the embers in the fireplace. Dropping the dagger, I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck, while he enclosed me in his arms. Even against the chill of his chain mail hauberk I wasn't inclined to let him go, until he laughingly made me step back.

"Let me get this off," he said. "I've been in it all day and my shoulders are weary from carrying the weight."

"What happened?" I watched him almost effortlessly lift the heavy tunic made of mail over his head. "I didn't think they were inclined to allow you into the castle."

"They weren't," he replied. "Then a sizeable force of the King's Guard arrived with the Duke. He demanded that Pierce give up the men from his house that were amongst the sell swords that attacked the palace. He was forced to disavow his own men to avoid an all-out battle that would have drawn all the allied houses against his, Rumlow's and the Walker houses."

The chain mail hauberk was dropped onto the floor with an audible metallic thud. At once, he removed his clothes, standing before me again in all his natural glory. Stepping towards me, he bunched the bottom of my night chemise in his hands as he guided me back towards the bed. By the time we got to the wooden steps into the enclosure, the chemise was also on the floor and his hands were on my waist. He saw the glint of the dagger in the bedclothes and quirked an eyebrow.

"Is this the usual greeting I can expect from my wife?"

"I heard the sound of the door opening and assumed the worst," I replied, picking it up and placing it back in its hiding place. "Once I heard your voice I discarded it. How I have missed you."

His face softened. "Truly, you have?"

Laying back on the rumpled bedclothes, I held my hand out to him, inviting him into my bed. He kissed my hand, then climbed in so that he hovered over me, taking in all of me with admiration. There was no hesitation as I smoothed my hands over his chest, enticing him to resume that which was shortened by necessity just weeks ago.

"Truly, I have, my husband," I murmured. "Have you not missed me?"

"As much as I would miss the sun's warmth upon me," he answered, lowering himself to cover my body with his.

His weight upon me was comforting and brought that longing for our joining again, deep into my core. Clasping my hand within his larger one, he bent his head to my lips, offering his mouth to me, before exploring my neck and chest in a manner that stoked the fire within me.

"Sit atop me," he whispered, then rolled onto his back, while holding me, so that I sat astride him as if he were a horse.

Grasping himself with one hand, he groaned as I lowered myself onto his thickening member. It pierced me as surely as a spear would, but the pain was replaced by the satisfaction of being filled once more with my husband's ardour. All the whispered conversations of the woman servants in our castle, describing their trysts with their husbands or lovers suddenly came to mind as I realized that I should ride James as I would a horse. With his hands everywhere upon me I bounced on him and brought him to a state of worship, where he called out to all the gods who ever existed. What a feeling of power it was to know that I brought him to this point, by his own desire. Then he pressed his thumb against that most sensitive spot of my body, circling it in such a way that left no doubt that he wanted us to be as one when we reached our bliss.

When it was done, and I felt his hot seed inside me once more, his hands slid over my sweat soaked body, gently lifting me from his prick, before laying me beside him in the bed. Again, his mouth sought mine and we clung together in the reflections of our glory. It was so different a joining from the first time on our wedding night but just as memorable, for me, at least. I never wanted to be apart from him, ever again, and I said so, gasping it out as I caught my breath.

"Dearest Arden." His mouth rested against my cheek. "After the banns are read tomorrow, you will return to the Citadel with me, and we shall be married openly by the bishop there. Then no one can claim you for their house for you will formally be part of House Barnes."

We shared another union shortly after, just as satisfying as the first one had been, before James pulled the bedclothes over us, and we slept, his body draped over mine from behind. Just after dawn, by the light coming in from a window, a small precise knock on my main door woke me, and I called out to know who roused me. It was my maidservant, Alice, telling me that I must bathe before attending church. Beside me, James stirred and tried to draw me back into his arms.

"Send her away," he murmured. "I wish to enjoy my wife's attributes once more before I rise."

"Can we be seen together by the servants, James?"

I posed the question to him in a low voice, after I told Alice to wait. He groaned a little too loudly for my wellbeing then opened his eyes and ran his hand through my hair.

"No, to be safe, we must maintain secrecy about us. I will return to my assigned chambers, regretting once more that I left my wife alone in bed. At least, it will be the last time."

He kissed me again, then pulled his tunic on, before picking up his other clothing. I saw him to the door of the secret passage where we kissed again, then he disappeared through it and I pulled my night chemise on, followed by my robe. Running my hands through my hair to restore some semblance of order to it, I opened the door to Alice, who curtsied quickly, then assembled my clothing for church, laying it out on the dressing bench before escorting me to the bathing room. If Alice smelled the scent of James and I joining on me, she said nothing as she wrapped my hair up and helped me into the bath. She kept her tongue when she spied a mark on my breast, given to me in a moment of abandon. When she lowered her face close to my ear and suggested I use powder on my neck, I automatically raised my hand to it, wondering what mark was there.

"Beard burn, M'Lady," she whispered. "Understandable. I have some powder that will conceal it, so it is not visible when you are in the church."

"Thank you," I whispered, grateful for the suggestion.

The powder worked quite well, disguising the red marks on my neck. I held my head high when I descended the staircase, meeting my aunt, uncle, cousins, and husband in the great hall. I wore a cream coloured dress, trimmed in gold and a head covering that still allowed the length of my hair to be seen. It was clear that James appreciated my appearance, for his eyes were full of admiration.

There was no stopping for breakfast as we were fasting before church, since the Eucharist was to be shared on this day, a holy day. Instead, we prepared to depart. James and my uncle would ride their horses, along with a small, combined force of men, while us women and the children would ride in the carriage. There were no delays, or signs of anyone in the forest who may have had designs on us. We arrived at the church in good time, and waited while James and my uncle removed their swords and daggers, as the church did not allow the carrying of weapons inside. Handing his weapons to one of his soldiers in the Citadel's garrison, James spoke quietly with him before joining us in entering the narthex, where we were greeted by several members of friendly houses. There was no sign of anyone from the Pierce, Rumlow, or Walker houses. From the entrance we walked into the nave, to the pew at the front that the Stark family had used for generations.

At the arrival of the procession to begin the service, we stood and listened to the choir singing. Father Bruce blessed the congregation then stood before us all and waited for us to sit before he spoke.

"I publish the banns of marriage between Lord James Buchanan Barnes of the Parish of the Citadel and Lady Arden Worth, of this parish. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is for the third time of asking." There was no response, just as there hadn't been the previous two readings. "The requirements for the approval of this marriage have been satisfied and the Church approves the marriage between the two named parties. It may proceed at their discretion before 90 days have passed."

He then proceeded to begin the service and we sat through the readings before the Eucharist was prepared. As we stepped forward to receive the bread, we heard sounds of fighting outside the church. James and my uncle stared at each other briefly then looked at the several heads of the various houses also in attendance. As one, they moved to exit the church, where their men had their weapons at the ready. The clergy asked the women and children to come into the altar area, as it was supposed to be a sanctuary for all. As the sounds of the fighting increased in intensity, there was a crashing sound, and a side door was breached. Father Bruce stood in front of us, beseeching the intruders not to defile the church with violence but they knocked him on his head, and those of his clergy, sending them all to the ground, bleeding from their wounds. From outside, three armed men entered the side door, Lord Pierce, Ser Brock of the House of Rumlow, and John Walker. They strode to where we were, and Pierce looked directly at me.

"Take her," he said. "Take Stark's wife and children. Lord Barnes will not allow the innocent to be slaughtered."

"The Bishop will excommunicate you for this," said my aunt, challenging Pierce, as one of his sell swords came for her. "You will set a war in motion."

"That was my intention," he smirked. He looked me up and down, making me feel like he had all sorts of plans in mind for me. How I longed to have a sword in my hand and plunge it into his chest. "I object to the marriage between Lady Arden and Lord Barnes on the grounds that my offer for her was superior." He put his hand to his ear. "I hear no dissenting voices, so my challenge is approved."

"Pierce!" A yell from the narthex drew his attention. James was there, his sword and tunic bloody. "That is not a valid impediment, and you know it. You have defiled this holy sanctuary with your actions."

Pierce nodded at the sell sword who put a knife to the throat of Morgan Stark. "This child's life is forfeit if you insist on challenging me," he stated, darkly. "Give me Lady Arden and the Stark children will live. Fight me on this and all his children, his wife, and every other child here will be slaughtered. Their blood will be on your head as I offered you a reasonable alternative."

I could see that James was torn between protecting me and keeping the others safe from this evil man's threats, which he had every intention of carrying out. Morgan was shaking in fear, as were her sisters. My uncle and several other remaining men stumbled in behind James, forced at sword point. He was holding his side, injured. When he realized who was in immediate danger, he moved to charge into the men who held his family. James stopped him, whispered to him, and slowly Stark backed down.

"I wish a moment with Lady Arden," said James.

"Take two," smirked Pierce, nodding at his men to let me go to him.

As soon as I got to him, James sheathed his sword and held me in his arms, kissing me on the top of my head. I knew what he had to do and that it would be the hardest thing he ever did, letting me go.

"I have no choice but to allow him to take you," he murmured, squeezing me tighter against him. "The deaths of the innocents must be avoided."

"I know," I answered, looking up at him. "It will be alright. He won't harm me other than try to force me into marriage with one of his sons." I lowered my voice. "Is our marriage still to be kept secret?"

"You will be safer if he doesn't know but if you find yourself in a position where you must object to a marriage then announce it openly and loudly," answered James. He placed both hands on my face and gazed into my eyes. "I will find you even if I must search for a lifetime. This action in the church on a holy day will turn many of his supporters away from him. Even now, he is likely moving his house to another location, as are the Rumlows and Walkers. Their lands here may be forfeit."

"Then why do this?" I asked, trying to stave off tears. "Why am I so important that they would take this action?"

James smiled sadly at me, ready to tell me but Pierce became impatient and drew his sword.

"Well, Barnes? What is your decision?"

He kissed me again and spoke once more. "I will find you. I promise." He looked from me to Pierce. "I will kill you for this, every one of you and your sons. Your lands are already forfeit and your names are to be forever associated with treason."

"Lady Arden."

It was a command from Pierce to go to him. Reluctantly, I did so, and the sell swords removed their weapons from Stark's children. Placing themselves in front of the side door, they allowed Pierce, Rumlow, Walker and me to exit where a carriage awaited me. A sell sword held his hand out to me to enter the carriage and I looked him in the eye. Although my first instinct was to refuse his offer of help, there was something about him that was familiar, so I took it and allowed him to help me inside. I was now in the hands of the enemy.

Lord Barnes

If there had been no women and children inside the church, I would have gladly damned my soul and made those three pay for their actions. Even now, their force waited outside, taunting us in our helplessness as they blocked any chance we had to follow. We stood at the door and watched as Arden was helped into a closed carriage. My only hope for her was that Riley, one of my men who had successfully infiltrated the force of sell swords that were recruited in the past month, would be able to keep Arden safe and possibly send word to us of where they were going. He helped her into the carriage, then took his place beside the driver. I gave no sign that I recognized him. Rumlow gave him instructions, but they were too far away for me to hear the destination. Then the despicable man stepped back and the driver commanded the four horses to leave, along with a sizeable contingent of men. After the carriage disappeared from view I turned back towards where Pierce, Rumlow and Walker were mounted on their horses.

"If any harm comes to her ...."

Pierce smirked. "We know. You'll kill every one of us." He looked at the church as if he were making a decision then looked at the commander of his garrison, Rollins. "Burn it down. No one gets out alive."

I pulled my sword out to prevent them and was met by several other drawn swords and ready bows with arrows aimed at my heart. As the three principals rode in the same direction as the carriage, Rollins prepared a fire in the church yard, then lit the arrows meant to become agents of death. They were launched onto the wooden roof, then he lifted several pieces of the flaming wood from the fire and threw them through windows broken by his men. I could hear the cries behind me as panic set in amongst most of the women and children. The men inside were doing their best to usher them towards another door but were blocked by flames as the fire on the roof had already broken through.

When an arrow suddenly pierced Rollins back and came out through his front, he looked down at it in surprise before falling over. Others in that contingent felt the steel tips of arrows that were expertly targeted. Returning into the church I called for everyone to come out the side door where I had been. More of my men who had been left at Stark's castle to protect it, arrived, and immediately set up a brigade to fight the fire, setting up a long line towards the river, hauling buckets. It wasn't enough to save the church, but it was enough to provide time for everyone to get out, including the priests who were still groggy from being knocked out. Each of them did have enough sense to grab something valuable and clutched it to their fronts as they stumbled through the open door, coughing and retching from the smoke that filled the interior. My men continued to fight the fire until Father Bruce put his hands out and said a prayer then shook his head.

"Let it go," he said, sadly. "It's burning too hot to stop now." He looked at me with a sooty face, broken by tears that streamed down his cheek. "They are all damned. Excommunication will be the least of their worries. Tell me, why is Lady Arden so coveted by those men?"

I sighed, as much for the answer, as for the knowledge that even she didn't know as I hadn't told her the complete truth of her heritage.

"She is descended from King Arthur, from a daughter who was born to Guinevere after she entered a convent, and was raised with another family. In her body is the blood of the greatest king who ever lived. Our child is destined to marry the child of the future king, and together herald an age unlike any other."

"But Guinevere was an adulteress," he protested. "How do they know her child was his?"

"Because those who wrote the history of King Arthur didn't reveal it to protect the daughter." I looked at Ser Anthony, who nodded as he also knew. "Arthur forgave Guinevere for her adultery, and they reconciled before his death. Their daughter was raised through her godparents, who knew her heritage but kept it secret so that an unworthy man did not use her to become king. Pierce needs her bloodline to make a legitimate claim against the throne. You recognized the ring so you must know that her mother was his original target, but she was killed defending her husband with a sword that she wielded almost as well as a man. While that happened, Arden was smuggled to Ser Anthony and Pierce lost track of her, until she came of age, and he saw the resemblance between her and her mother. I waited too long to claim her. This is my fault."

"No," said Ser Anthony, who had been listening. "It is mine. I should have trusted that the betrothal document between your parents and hers was valid. But I loved her so much that I found it hard to trust any man, especially one as powerful as you. I knew that you were once close to Lord Pierce and couldn't believe that you were enemies until I heard of your falling out with him from a trusted source. Even then, I delayed in receiving you and your delegation. My pride has brought us to this point."

Father Bruce looked at us with sympathy. Trust was not easily formed, not between men of power. Even though Ser Anthony and I were not inclined to seek power for ourselves, we still had influence, enough for Lord Pierce to consider us a threat. A thought seemed to occur to Father Bruce as he looked sharply at me.

"A betrothal document," he stated. "You were already formally betrothed before I married you in the Stark chapel?"

I nodded. "Our parents arranged the betrothal when I was 11 years old, and Lady Arden was still a babe in swaddling clothes. The marriage wasn't to be formalized until she came of marrying age. Of course, when her parents were killed, and she was placed in Ser Anthony's care that didn't happen." I cast my eyes downward for a moment, not proud of my behaviour after that happened. "For a time, I rebelled against the idea of marrying someone unknown to me and instead sowed my wild oats during my travels."

As a man of the cloth, I could have expected Father Bruce to chastise me for not living in a godly manner, but he must have been a more worldly man than I knew for he said nothing about that admission.

"Then you have a prior claim to Lady Arden due to an arrangement between your parents. If the bishop of the time approved the betrothal, any challenge to it would be a matter of honour between you and the man issuing the challenge. The banns have been read but Pierce's challenge was not issued at the time of the third reading. His challenge is not valid and that means you have the right to respond to it. You do intend to raise a force against him, do you not?"

"I do, with the King's permission, although I suspect Pierce will take his allies with him and force a marriage upon Arden, using her as his rallying cry against the monarchy."

Father Bruce stood before me; his eyes bright. "You will need a man of the cloth with you, to hold services for your men, and to administer the last rites." He gestured back at the burning ruins. "I no longer have a church. The local peoples will have to travel further afield to receive God's word, but I am meant to be with you, as a witness to the readings of the banns, and as the celebrant of the marriage performed in secret that was approved by the Bishop."

"So, we are formally married in the eyes of the Church?" I asked, as he had not informed me of the approval. "Why did you not say anything?"

"Because the Bishop was willing to let it go through the normal channels, hoping that it would mean less bloodshed. I don't think even he contemplated that Lord Pierce would do this. All the more reason why I should be part of your army now."

It was an offer made from the priest's heart and I accepted it. As he and Ser Anthony would inform the bishop of the attack and destruction of the church, I would return to the Citadel, assemble my army, and track the forces of Pierce, Rumlow and Walker. They would pay dearly for taking my wife, threatening the lives of innocents, and for the desecration of the church. This was war.

Part 4>>

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[braveclementine]

Falcon

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

Steve grunted, pushing against the rubble and looked over to him. Both Natasha and Y/N were unconscious. He quickly pushed everything out of the way, trying to figure out how best to get both of them back to the truck, and quickly.

Y/N was lighter and smaller of the two. He hesitated, and then picked her up, carrying her over his shoulder, before carefully bending down, picking up Nat, trying to cradle her in both arms, while also holding the shield in his other arm.

He saw lights coming from the direction opposite the truck. He quickly turned, running as fast as he could. It was awkward running and he could already feel that the jolting was causing Y/N's body to slip down his shoulder. But he could stop. He couldn't abandon either of them.

His luck came when he felt Natasha struggling in his arms. He immediately put her down, letting her run with him, though she still looked disoriented. He moved Y/N into his arms, cradling her the same way, shoving his shield into Nat's hands instead.

"Start the truck and drive." Steve shouted, yanking open the backseat of the truck and Nat leaped into the front.

Once Nat was on the road, he checked out Y/N. Her breathing seemed nonexistent and he checked for a pulse. Fear lit in him when she didn't respond.

He listened again, this time, hearing her breath hitch in her throat like she was choking.

Choking on what? There had been no water.

How did he save her?

Hesitantly, he went for CPR. Lowering his mouth to hers, he started the drill. He closed his mind against the fact that her lips were softer than Natasha's, pulling back quickly to pump her chest.

Her lips, soft as they were, were almost familiar. They reminded him of his own soulmates lips, although his soulmate had had slightly thicker ones. But they were just as soft.

Suddenly, there was a sharp inhale, and Steve relaxed as Y/N's eyes fluttered open. He held her carefully as she tilted her head, hawking and spitting, until there was a small rock that came up out of her throat. Then she collapsed into a coughing fit, tears streaming down her face.

When she finally came to, she looked up at him from where her head was laying in his lap and mumbled, "When I said I wanted to kiss you, that wasn't exactly how I imagined it."

He smiled just a little.

"I'm curious." Nat said from the front as though Y/N hadn't just recovered from the brink of death. "Tony is your soulmate. You love him, but you want to kiss Steve. Why?"

Y/N blushed a little, coughing again. "I never um- you know- got to practice when I was young. Boys just- weren't interested in me like that. And my parents- I mean you know what they're like Nat. I guess I kind've just wanted to see what it would be like, to have someone that wasn't your soulmate, that wasn't someone who was designed to love you, interested in you. That was all. Sorry if I made it awkward Steve." She sat up, rubbing her throat.

"It's alright." He told her, and he was truthful in that. He felt the same way. No girls or guys ever looked his way. His soulmate was the only person that he ever kissed before he became a super soldier. After he became something spectacular, there was that blond and then there had been Peggy. But he knew how Y/N felt.

Suddenly, feeling bold, Steve touched his fingers under her chin and leaned in to kiss her once more. It was a soft kiss, something Steve had missed very much. Y/N responded easily, before pulling away shyly. "No Steve, you're not a bad kisser at all. But, that will also be the last time I kiss you."

"Understood." He said with a secret smile. Y/N smiled at him, and then soon feel asleep in the back of the car. And he didn't complain when she fell sideways, landing in his lap once more.

"Don't fall in love with her Rogers." Nat warned him from the front, looking at him in the rearview mirror. "Stark will make you eat Iron Man lasers."

"I know." Steve said. "I won't."

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Steve led you and Nat to a random house in a quiet suburb, knocking on the door of said house.

The door was slid open by a dark skinned African American man. He was taller than you with not a lot of hair and kind brown eyes. He looked worried though, as he looked at the three of you. "Hey, man."

"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low."

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us." Nat mumbled.

The mans eyes shifted from her, to Steve, to me, and then back to Steve. Your throat was still killing you from where you'd inhaled rock and almost almost died. Natasha's face was dirty and you could tell by the grit in your hair that you weren't looking much better.

"Not everyone." He said.

You got to see Steve almost naked as he wore a white tank top underneath all of the rest of the clothes. And you supposed he got to see you almost naked since you'd stripped down to your sports bra. You couldn't stay in the clothes that you had since they were ripped and bloody.

Turns out, one of the reason you felt so tired was because you'd never taken care of a piece of glass in your side since the fall. Steve pulled it out now and you winced, but didn't make a noise.

"I'm sorry." Steve mumbled to you.

"You saved my life. Three or four times now. I'm still deep in debt to you." You muttered back, before looking in the mirror, seeing the dirt streaked down your arms. You reached behind you awkwardly, trying to wipe it away.

Steve took it from you, finishing cleaning up the streaks. You did the same for him.

"I should've listened to you." He said suddenly.

"We." Nat said from the other room and you stepped out of the bathroom to look at her.

"When?" You asked, both being cheeky, yet also truly curious.

"In the room. When you were telling us we had to go." Nat muttered. "I guess. . . I figured if I felt there was no danger, then there was none. And it was narcissistic of me, to assume that since I was the better agent, I knew better. Sorry for thinking you're just a kid."

"Oh." You said and then shrugged, "It's a rabbit thing. I've always been good at feeling out whose good or bad and then when to run. I just don't know why I didn't get a bad feeling about Pierce."

Nat looked up at Steve and said, "I owe you."

You snorted. "Join the club."

"It's okay." Steve smiled a little.

"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me: would you trust me to do it?"

"I would now. And I'm always honest."

Nat nodded, "Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing."

"Well, I guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."

"I made breakfast," The man named Sam said, walking in. You wondered what it looked like to him, two girls in their sports bras and a guy in his tank top. "If you guys eat that sort of thing."

You giggled, hopping up. "I do for sure. Lead the way."

You followed Sam out to the kitchen, still slightly aware that you were still in a sports bra and leggings.

"Um, here." Sam muttered, darting into a room and coming back out with a black shirt. "Might be a little big. Sorry."

You smiled, putting it over your head. "It's fine. So where's the food I've been promised."

He laughed and I felt that I was slowly warming him up. "Over here."

"So the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?" Nat asked.

"Pierce." You and Steve said at the same time and Steve added, "I'm listening to Y/N from now on, just in case you're wondering."

You laughed and continued to eat the toast that Sam had buttered for you.

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." Nat sighed.

"But he's not working alone." Steve said thoughtfully. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."

"Okay, so who is high up that was on that boat?" You asked. You had heard of the mission, but you hadn't gone on it. And really, all that you heard was that Steve had jumped out of the plane without a parachute on his back. "Oh and if what I heard is true, wear a parachute next time."

"Jasper Sitwell." Nat answered in realization while Steve smirked.

"So, the real question is, how do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?" Steve asked.

"The answer is, you don't." Sam said. He slapped a file down in front of Steve.

You reached for another piece of toast, buttering it yourself this time, and started to nibble on it. You wondered if you should risk calling Tony from Sam's house phone. But it definitely wasn't secure enough. You wished the two of you had another method to talk to each other with. But unless you wanted to train carrier pigeons, you were out of luck.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Call it a resume." Sam said.

"Is this Bakhmala?" Nat asked, picking up the picture that had been on top of the file. You leaned your chair back to see the picture. It was two people, one of them being Sam. "The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?"

You wished you knew more about the missions and operations you kept hearing about.

"You didn't say he was a pararescue."

"Is this Riley?" Steve asked.

"Yeah."

"I heard they couldn't bring in choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use? A stealth chute?"

"No." Sam said, picking up the folder and handing it to Steve, "These."

Steve looked down at whatever contents were in the file as you reached for a third piece of toast and finished off your orange juice.

"I thought you said you were a pilot."

"I never said pilot." Sam said with a smile.

"I can't ask you to do this Sam." Steve said, shaking his head. "You got out for a good reason."

"Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in."

Steve nodded and said, "Where can we get our hands on one of these things?"

"The last one is at Fort Meade." Sam replied. "Behind three guarded gates and a 12- inch steel wall."

Steve looked at Nat who shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem."

You snorted.

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You waited, bored, on the roof. To keep yourself occupied, you pictured your moment with Tony when all of this was over. You'd run into his arms and kiss him, that was for sure. You'd sit him down, you'd tell him about Steve because you didn't want a single secret between the two of you. You'd tell him he was giving you CPR, you woke up, boom it was then a kiss.

And you'd also tell him what Zola said about his father. It was only fair that he knew, considering it was his own father and his mother. Maybe Tony would start to dig and find out what happened.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and you saw Sitwell slide across the concrete. Steve came following right after, "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." You pulled out your gun, crossing your legs, and rested the handgun across your top one.

"Never heard of it." Sitwell said, getting to his feet hastily.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve asked.

"I was throwing up. I get seasick."

Sitwell continued to back up, not even noticing that you were there, so when you stood up, putting the gun into his back, he jolted, nearly sending you toppling over the edge except Steve's hand reached out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you forwards.

Steve grabbed the front of Sitwell's clothes and he was smiling, "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style Rogers."

"You're right." Steve said, letting go and actually smoothing his clothes out. "It's hers." And then Natasha stepped forward and gave such a satisfying kick to his chest that you grinned, feeling satisfied.

"Wait. What about that girl from Accounting, Laura. . . "

"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?" Steve said.

"Yeah, she's cute. Soulmate less."

"Yeah. I'm not ready for that. Lip piercings really aren't my thing." Steve said. "To weird."

"Trashy." You piped up.

And then Sam zoomed upwards, dropping Sitwell. You watched his wings in amazement and wondered if you could get Tony to build you something like them.

The four of you approached him and he put his hand out, still on the ground. He was nearly sobbing as he said, "Zola's alogirithim is a program- for choosing- insight's targets."

"What targets?" Steve demanded.

"You! Stark! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school Valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA."

"What?" And you were surprised that Sam was snarling.

"Now, or in the future." Sitwell finished, gasping for breath.

"In the future? How could it know?"

Sitwell laughed and Sam drew closer, looking mutinous even still. "How could it not?" He got to his feet. "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores!"

"Oh good, I took the ACT." You muttered.

"Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?"

"Oh My God. Pierce is going to kill me." Sitwell muttered.

"What then?" Sam demanded at the same time as Steve.

"Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."

Sam grabbed Sitwell around the throat, "When is this happening?"

Sitwell scratched at Sam's hand and Steve nudged him. Sam let go and drew out a phone, immediately lifting it to his hand and started to pace. You watched him, wondering.

"Stephen?" Sam finally gasped, "Thank God."

Huh. So he'd freaked out because he was soulmated to Stephen Strange.

Whoever that was.

"No, listen-"

Sam looked annoyed and gritted his teeth as he was interrupted. "I know you're at work, but you also know I wouldn't call unless this is impo-"

Sam's nostrils flared. "GOD DAMN IT STEPHEN LISTEN TO ME! I need you to get somewhere safe! Do you understand me? I will explain everything after I see you. And I may have to cancel dinner plans tonight, we'll see."

Another pause, this one quieter.

"I can't tell you. You'll be in to much danger if I do. This is. . . different. I love you." Sam hung up on him, looking worried.

You raised an eyebrow. Sam looked at you. "He's an arrogant, rich, narcissistic, handsome, egotistical, eloquent, workaholic, loyal jackass who I happen to love. I don't know why Zola's algorithm thinks he's dangerous."

You nodded for a moment and then said, "Yeah, he sounds a lot like Tony."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Tony picked up the ringing phone, holding a sleeping Everleigh on his hip. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Hey." She sounded exhausted, tired, and hurt. He could hear that she was in the car because he could hear the sounds of cars around her. There were also the sounds of people talking around her. "I have to say this quickly."

He stayed quiet.

"There's this program called Zola's algorithm. Basically, it can find find any threats to HYDRA."

"HYDRA, what do they have to do with this?" Tony asked in surprise.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is HYDRA." She answered. "Pierce, Sitwell, they're all part of HYDRA. But the algorithm said Stark was a threat. It didn't give first names though so it could be me or you or it could even be Everleigh. But it also mentioned Bruce. Is he still at the tower?"

"I think so." Tony said, trying to remember. "I think he's down in the lab."

"Good. Please Tony." She whispered. "Stay safe."

"You too." He whispered, and then hung up. 

[skyler10fic]

Lightning Strikes Twice: Ch. 10

Summary: Carol and Skye connect on a new level while camping, and Yon-Rogg is frustrated with his task of bringing home the Kree mole inside Shield.

Notes: Not the explicit chapter yet, I'll let you know which one that will be!

Read on Ao3

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

In the weeks following the surgery, Skye seemed to grow more distant, which Carol couldn’t figure out. Carol tried to perform tricks with her newly freed powers to make Skye smile or to impress her, but that didn’t solve the issue, so maybe Skye was scared of her powers? Carol tried to use them less and be more normal, more Terran, more … whoever Skye needed her to be. This had some success, especially when Carol asked Skye about places on Earth Skye had been or wanted to go. 

When they visited one, a campsite with stunning mountain views, Skye even scooted closer on the blanket as they watched the stars at night, and Carol pulled up an app on her Shield-issued smartphone to learn the constellations from here. 

“Do you miss it,” Skye asked. “Being out there?” 

“Not the way I experienced it.” Carol snorted in derision and then sighed. “I really thought I was making it all better, you know? Space is cool, and I miss seeing the amazing stuff, but if I ever went back, I’d want it to be with you.” 

“Yeah?” Skye lifted her head, but Carol backtracked too soon. 

“Sure, you know,” she rushed out. “That new SABER division and such, doing actual good and science and uh… Space stuff.” 

Skye sighed and laid back down. “Right. SABER. Space stuff.” 

Carol scrunched her brow as she thought. “What about you? Would your powers work in space?” 

Skye was silent for a moment. “I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I should learn more physics. But don’t tell FitzSimmons I said that!”

Carol laughed and turned on her side to face Skye. Her hair fell back so her scar was exposed on her neck, but she didn’t care. There was no reason for self-conscious vanity here. Skye had helped that scar exist in the first place.  

Skye spotted it and traced a light finger around it. “Does it still hurt?” 

“No.” 

Carol inhaled sharply as Skye looked up, so close Carol could almost taste her. In fact, she should. Without thinking, Carol closed the small gap between them and pressed her lips to Skye’s.

Skye froze and then pulled away. “Oh!” 

Carol blushed furiously. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why…” She trailed off and sat up on the blanket. Before she could come up with an excuse about Kree culture or run away or pretend it hadn’t happened, Skye sat up and pulled Carol back in. Skye’s lips were warm and ready this time, kissing her in a way that Carol had never experienced. It stirred something inside her to want more and more. Was kissing Earth girls always like this? Probably not, she concluded. There was something about Skye specifically that made her feel things no one else here did, or anyone ever had. Experimenting with all genders was encouraged in Kree society, but this was something else, something real. Not just a drunken pleasure after a battle won or a way to beat the boredom of life drifting in space. 

Skye pulled away again, this time much slower and with a hum of delight. “I just… I wasn’t sure if you liked me like that.”

Carol let a soft smile bloom on her reddened lips. “I don’t only think of you as a friend. It’s that, but there’s more to it. I don’t know what you’d want to call it, though.” 

“Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?” Skye asked, blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“Yeah,” Carol concluded. That was it exactly. Just like the movies. “Yeah, I think I do. Is that too juvenile?” 

Skye shook her head, and a strand of hair fell down, which Carol gently tucked back. “A lot of people here say partner, but I like girlfriend too. I want to be proud of being with you.” 

“Ah.” Carol realized. Earth ways. “Because it’s … what’s the word… les-bionic?” 

Skye burst out a laugh. “Sapphic. But that’s great.”

“Ohhh,” Carol remembered their earlier vocabulary lesson now. “That’s right. You’re bi, and I’m lesbionic.” 

“Lesbian. Because you said you really only feel like this about women, right?” 

Carol shrugged a shoulder. “Well, THIS I have only felt with you. This is something new. But in general, yeah, lesbian sounds right based on past experience.” 

Skye kissed Carol’s cheek. “Our first official date. Under the stars.” 

Carol looked away, to the pinpricks of light above them, and Skye followed her gaze. “Just a few months ago, I was escaping for my life up there. And now I’m safe with you, my gorgeous, smart, Terran girlfriend.”

“You really have to stop saying Terran.” Skye laughed. “No one says that here.” 

“Mmm.” Carol mimicked an alien voice from a cheesy sci-fi show they had watched, “I come in peace, Earthling. The humans are beautiful this time of year.” 

“Stop!” Skye giggled and tickled Carol’s side. This was a new sensation for Carol and she laughed harder than she had in her life. They rolled around on the blankets until they had to catch their breath, with Skye snuggling on top of Carol. They laid in silence for a long while, content to enjoy the night sky. 

Finally, Skye spoke up, voice soft in the night air. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything,” Carol promised and kissed the top of Skye’s head. 

Skye rose up and met Carol’s lovesick gaze with a solemnity that scared her. 

“What is it?” Carol asked. 

“I’m not supposed to ask you this, but if I don’t, and I’m right, you could be in danger.” 

They shifted to sitting up on the blankets. Carol took Skye’s hands. “How could I be in danger when we’re together? You and I could face anything.” 

This seemed to be exactly what Skye needed to hear to overcome her hesitation. “There are some at Shield who were worried you came as a spy for the Kree. And for the last few weeks, I was worried about the opposite—that you only wanted to get close to me so I’d help you take the inhibitor out.” 

Carol started to protest, but Skye held up a hand and continued. “Think about it from an agent’s perspective. It makes sense. But I believe you when you say you want to be here. I trust you.” 

Carol relaxed but waited impatiently for Skye to make her point. 

Skye got to her question: “Do you remember Alexander Pierce from when you first came?” 

The hair on the back of Carol’s neck stood up and her breathing grew shallow. “Yeah, why?”

“We think he might be working for the Kree, to track you and monitor your activities on Earth. You’ve barely been out of the Shield building, though, besides just hanging out with me and doing training missions. So I don’t know what he would even report on, but—”

“But you helped me take out the inhibitor. The inhibitor had a tracker. That’s how he was doing it. That’s why your mom freaked out when I told her that, even though I thought no one could use it here.” Carol paled. “You’re a target now too. I made you part of a crime against the Kree Empire.” 

Carol got up and paced around the campsite. Skye scrambled up after her and placed a hand on her arm. “Hey. Remember what you just said? Between you and me, we can face anything. And it’s not just the two of us. We’ve got Shield on our side. Even Pierce’s assistant is helping, but you can’t repeat any of this to anyone, okay? No one can know.”

Carol blinked. “How can we keep this a secret? If there’s a Kree spy, you’re all vulnerable. And it’s all my fault! If I never would have come here, you’d all be safe.”

“NO!” Skye shouted and then softened. “No. I could say the same thing about myself. If I’d never come here as a kid, maybe they wouldn’t have sent him here. Or maybe neither of us had anything to do with him being here.” 

Carol understood what Skye was saying. “You think Pierce is part of something bigger that the Kree have going on here? It makes sense. I was part of a much larger program to integrate Terran, I mean human , children into Kree society. It could be something with that program. To make more kids like me into their tools.” 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Skye bit her lip. “We don’t know what he’s plotting, only that Natasha says it has something to do with you. Maybe the Kree want you back. You’re a powerful weapon in the wrong hands right now.” 

Carol wrapped her arms around Skye against the chill of the night air. “And so are you. You’re an escaped inhuman. And if Pierce knows, he will have told them you’re still alive, you’ve been through Terrigenesis, and how to find you. We can’t let them take us back as their property. I won’t let them.” 

Skye nuzzled Carol’s cheek and pulled back just enough to look her in the eye with determination. “So we fight. Whatever comes.” 

“How are we going to fight the Kree Empire?” Carol wondered aloud. 

“Well, theoretically, you can go to space now, so that’s a plus.” Skye teased the outline of Carol’s scar again and played with her blonde strands. “And Shield has a few tricks up its sleeve the Kree won’t anticipate. If it comes to that.” 

Carol accepted this in favor of kissing Skye again and again. As the night grew colder, they eventually made their way inside their tent and into their sleeping bags, where they explored even more ways of kissing until they grew tired and cuddled their soft, warm cocoons together to fall asleep. 

—---------------------------

Carol’s fears of a big space army coming to invade Planet Earth weren’t in Yon-Rogg’s playbook, though. This was a show starring two men: Zxan-Dar the businessman and diplomat and Yon-Rogg, the assassin and scorned mentor. 

Yon-Rogg didn’t mention to Zxan-Dar that the planet he’d worked for so long to prepare for colonization was being discarded and abandoned to its own self-destruction. He only mentioned to the elder statesman that he was being ordered back home by the Supreme Intelligence, presumably to report in-person on what he’d learned. 

“And I’m supposed to give up all of this?” Zxan-Dar replied, his charming smile twisting into a hidden ferocity. He gestured to his executive office, decorated with all the hallmarks and designers of status, with the hand bearing a Harvard alumnus class ring that served as part of his cover story. “To go back to that ship, some officer’s quarters, an artificial Supreme Intelligence who watches me like a child, to bowing and scraping, to do the will of the empire.” 

Yon-Rogg raised a hand in caution. “I must warn you, brother. You are verging on consequences for these liberties. The Supreme Intelligence may overlook your offense as a side effect of your long exposure to these base creatures, but only once. You must do your duty as a Kree, as we are all sworn to, and return for the good of the collective.” 

Zxan-Dar sniffed and chuckled with the full ego of a powerful man being given orders. “Even the lowest foot soldier demands his payment. And I, well…” He turned in his desk chair and rose to face the skyline of Los Angeles below out the glass wall. “I am objectively higher up the food chain here, as you can see.” 

With Zxan-Dar’s back to him, Yon-Rogg sneered. “I will commune with the council and return with an offer of reward for your faithful service. Surely we can come to a fitting agreement.”  

Zxan-Dar whipped around and strode briskly toward Yon-Rogg with hand extended, as if a business deal had just been struck. “Excellent. I shall look forward to your offer. Brother .” 

The condescension in his voice was unmistakable, but Yon-Rogg at least had a solution to their problem. It wasn’t unheard of for spies and generals to set up shiny little kingdoms for themselves in their extended time away from Hala. They were understandably reluctant to give up their riches, conquests, and power. But resistance was met with proportional force, an equal and opposite reaction, as they say. 

Walking down the streets of Los Angeles, Yon-Rogg could hardly understand why Zxan-Dar would pick here of all places. Young screamed at their caretakers and were not silenced into submission. Adolescents rode on wheeled boards, or even drove land vehicles, with their horrid noises blasting rhythmically for all to hear. The impoverished were allowed within sight, and the ill and lame were free to hobble along the sidewalks with the garbage set out in bags! He wondered that in all of Terran history, they had no planetary system to rid themselves of trash, whether living or inanimate, in ways that stayed out of sight of the respectable citizenry. 

He pitied Carol a bit. His failed hope. He had really thought she could be more than this noisy, stinking, sweltering planet. She had shown such potential. And yet, here she was, crawling back to the rodents’ den she’d been rescued from. 

Just as he thought of her, she appeared, entering a building a block ahead. She looked in his direction as she opened the door for the Terran with her—a dark-haired young woman, of similar age and height—but Carol disappeared into the building. He wanted to follow, to demand that she return with him to stand trial, to offer her a chance at rehabilitation. To apologize that they hadn’t done a better job erasing her shameful origins the first time. 

But the traffic light turned and a wall of vehicles in all shapes and sizes and smells and sounds separated them. Another day. For now, he made his way back to his cloaked ship to relay Zxan-Dar’s terms of compliance.

[latin5mamii]

MASTERLIST:

Carlos Alcaraz

⟢ Good days

⟢ Chico celoso

⟢ Skincare Time

⟢ Family

⟢ Need You (Smut)

⟢ Win or not: who cares?

⟢ Shorts chats with tu amorcito: 1

⟢ stay ready (what a life) : 1 part 2 part 3 part 4part

⟢ Good Heart

⟢ We belong (together) 1 2 3 4

⟢ Welcome to the family (request)

⟢ Shower smut

⟢ Traditions

⟢ Superstition smut

⟢ ‘Loss'

⟢ Later

Jannik Sinner

𖦹 A scar of age

𖦹 Future

𖦹 Desire smut

𖦹 Mad about you - smut

𖦹 Enjoy the silence

Jude Bellingham

𐙚 Stadium Sweetheart

𐙚 Mall date

𐙚 Sickie Trent AA!sister x Jude Bellingham

𐙚 Silly comfort

𐙚 Angel-1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6part 7part 8part

𐙚 Jude as a cute boyfriend

𐙚 Instagram AU

𐙚 All night smut

𐙚 Needy smut

𐙚 Obsessed smut

𐙚 Lingerie smut 2 part

𐙚 Thighs smut

𐙚 Reward smut

𐙚 Body piercing smut

𐙚 Favor smut

𐙚 Cheering up smut

𐙚 Camera

𐙚 Aftercare

𐙚 Family

𐙚 Don't touch me smut

𐙚 Never again smut

𐙚 Hate you. 2 part (smut)

𐙚 nsfw alphabet

𐙚 warm

𐙚 distract me

Trent Alexander Arnold

❀ Comfort

Eduardo Camavinga

🂱 SMAU

Erling Haaland

♱ Haircare

Kylian Mbappé

⏾ Sometimes

⏾no, no, no

[urdepressedslut]

main masterlist

♡fluff ✦angst ❀possibly triggering ☻smut ✰series ✘dark

🔥over 1k notes to be added to a taglist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SOME CONTENT 18+

* You are responsible for your media consumption. Please do not proceed reading, if you have any kind of problem with any of the above written warnings.

One Shots

🔥 Tickle Fights ♡☻

→ Bucky discovers you’re ticklish, leading to a tickle fight which shifts into something not so innocent. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Just Like That ☻

→ While you two were supposed to be repairing Sam’s boat, you end up giving Bucky head instead. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Let Me Take Care of You ♡☻✦❀

→ Bucky is no virgin, but it’s been so long since someone’s touched him the way you do. He didn’t know you could make him feel so good— he’s addicted. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

🔥 Lovesick ♡✦❀

→ Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 I Get Scared Too ♡✦

→ You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Feels So Right | part two ♡☻

→ You’re so sexually frustrated you end up asking your dad’s best friend for advice. He’s more than happy to help you with your little problem. (Dbf!Bucky Barnes)

Birthday Blues ♡✦❀

→ It’s your birthday, and unfortunately you seem to be going through the birthday blues. Sam and Bucky won’t let you be upset on your special day, which leads to Bucky revealing his feelings for you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Tears of an Angel | part two ♡✦❀

→ You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Prisoner!Reader)

🔥 Love Hurts ♡✦❀

→ You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

The Collection ♡✦

→ Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into. (tfatws!Bucky Barnes)

Tragedy ♡✦❀

→ A new shapeshifter recruit has a hard time adjusting to the team, she feels out of place. Bucky knows what it's like to be the outsider and fight to have control, so he comforts her. (Platonic!Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

Off Day ♡✦❀

→ Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Void ♡✦❀

→ Working as a nurse at HYDRA, you find yourself intervening when you catch Alexander Pierce striking The Asset. You don’t even know this man, but you can’t just stand and watch him be beat down. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader)

You Could Never Hurt Me ♡✦❀

→ Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you. (cw!bucky barnes)

I Wanna Be Yours ♡✦❀

→ You were childhood friends with Steve and Bucky. You had always had a small crush on Bucky. But now as you’re older, you realize that harboring a crush on Bucky is hard. Especially watching him flirt with girls that aren’t you. (40's!bucky barnes)

More Than Friends ♡✦

→ You are eager to help Bucky prepare for a date, but he would rather stay home with you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Protect Me ♡✦❀

→ With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Out of My Control ♡✦❀

→ You awake in the middle of the night discovering that your water broke, you realize you’re having a baby— the only issue is that it’s several months early. Your hospital room gets tense as you and Bucky come to terms with the big changes. (Mob!bucky barnes)

Cuddles ♡✦

→ Bucky comforts you when you have bad period cramps. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Beauty and the Bucky ♡✦❀ (Beauty and the Beast!Au)

→ In search of your missing Father, you discover a castle far into the untouched forest. After knocking and no answer, you find the doors unlocked and venture inside. But beware— it might not be your Father you find inside. (Beast!bucky barnes x beauty!reader)

Series

🔥 Stray (masterlist)

→ Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes)

🔥 You're Mine, Sunshine (masterlist)

→ Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite? (Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader)

All I Know (masterlist)

→ Takes place right after the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky hides out in Bucharest. Without being controlled by HYDRA, he starts to receive flickers of memories. Who is this girl he keeps remembering? (cw!Bucky Barnes x OC!Fem!Reader)

The Girl and Her Golden Boys (masterlist)

→ A story of your life with your two best friends. Life was never simple for the three of you, and you didn’t care where you’d end up as long as it was together. How long can you all stay together until life will force you all apart? Will the strength of your bond be enough? (40's!Bucky Barnes/40's!Steve Rogers)

Love Me to Death (masterlist)

→ The avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course. (Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

[darkdemeter]

OLD DRAFT CONCEPT : " GUARD DOG "

—- not my gif, credit to original poster! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader (x slight Natasha Romanoff)

A/N — Here's a little bedtime story for ya'll. Old draft concept for an upcoming and looong oneshot for Wanda in a mafia au setting. Bits and pieces may be recognised in the published column plot wise but overall, we're taking an alternate route, my babbies.

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

READER DISCRETION — Alcohol consumption — mafia business and semi dark themes — profanity — mention of death and murder — mention of black market and auction — reader and Nat have some history — player reader Tony is so proud — Alexander Pierce is of course an arsehole, what else is new? — Rumlow is a bad guy (duh) — I think that's it?

An expensive investment. A broad term to use for a werewolf broken in by the system at a young age. But it’s true. 

Alexander Pierce, the finance manager and ringleader as a whole, did all he could to break you in, and to say he did is an understatement. He exceeded the limits you once believed you had and once you were ready, he put you out in the field to garner your reputation. 

You had no limits. Ruthless in your endeavour to complete whatever task was required of you, prepared to do whatever it took, your peers could only look at you with both fear and admiration. 

When all was said and done, you were given your collar, then sold through the underground hub for criminals: the black market. 

That’s when you learnt in the span of the few minutes that the auction lasted for, that you were either a trophy to those of the higher class of crime, or a very wanted source of security and war. From black funding operators that had their hand in the military’s pit on the hunt for a war hound, to the gangster overlords who controlled territories in the differing states and countries, requiring some form of high end security, there was a very rapid increase in the price they were each willing to pay. 

At a total of twenty-five million, your collar and services were sold to Mr. Tony Stark. From the sleek fit of a light grey, three piece suit and bright pink tie, Stark had a brighter outlook on the window of his underhand activities. He was the type that lounged back in the severity of his criminal dealings.

Unlike his fellow company who each wore darker palette suits of either navy blue or jet black. He stood out for sure as his auburn tinted glasses did little to hide the one question on his mind: Was his money well spent?

Well, to say at the very least, you wouldn’t be here tonight if you weren’t every single cent he spent on you three years ago. 

Thinking about the memory now, this is a different tone entirely. Dark and neon is how you remember the black market scene, stalls and cube stores with an assortment of supplies anyone in the business would need, whether that be for the amateurs - which were the usual target customers - or the smaller businesses which belonged to small cluster gangs. 

The big time runners had designated storehouses to spare where they obtained their supplies, and ran other dealings and hand-offs in and out of private rooms in the clubs. 

Here, the scene is warm, lavish and made for those who seek the comfort in living in marble halls and pristine white pillars, short cut grass and elaborate parties such as this one. 

“Shit, this party is awfully chipper for someone who died last week,” you huff, eyes scanning the crowd from the smooth, darkly polished bar, which you incidentally found very comfortable to lean back on when told for the hundredth time, “Just sit tight, just a little bit longer.” 

You didn’t have the time nor patience to sit around getting older by the damn minute. Thankfully, Tony put his card behind the bar so that meant an endless river of drinks. Because you needed the alcohol. A lot. 

Not a moment too late is your glass refilled with your refreshment.

“Please, Y/N,” sighs Steve from your right side, arms folded over his chest, navy blue suit straining just a bit too tightly against his body, “have some respect for the Maximoff family. They lost their only male heir to a deal gone wrong. They need our support.”

Your shoulders rise with a particular deep inhale before falling lax, you swirl the sliver of whiskey left in your glass and with a jerk of your wrist you finish it. Ice rattles in your glass as you shimmy it, indicating you need a refill and pronto. 

“People live, people die. You cross someone and you get shot in the back. It happens.” 

“He was gunned down in the streets with a fucking machine gun, Y/N. You consider that a mere oopsie?”

You shrug in response to Sam’s question with a pout of your bottom lip. “Pietro thought he was the shit. That’s what got him killed by Rumlow.” 

Sam runs a hand over his face, now distressed by the lack of sincerity you show for the grieving family. “For fuck sake…”

In the three years of your loyal work to the Stark family and those of his brotherhood - his allies - your colours shone through immensely to reveal a shining personality. Excluding the fact you’d become something of a playful rogue with the women. 

You simply chalk it up to your animal magnetism. Something that leaves them wanting more whenever in the presence of your company.

In fact, that was how Tony came to own unclaimed establishments and clubs in the boroughs, ones he wasn’t able to get his hands on before, but after he had you as a playable card in his fold, you provided club goers the relief of being harassed and drinks being spiked. Territorial take over schemes from rival gangs were second guessed when they saw you watching over the joint.

The after hour visits for your libido were just the perks. But you left a lot of lustful and broken little hearts in the wake of your work. 

For a werewolf, you were always assumed to be a means of security, and that much was true. Didn’t mean it excluded you from taking on other odd jobs for the families from time to time. Debt collection, assassinations, tailing and blackmail ops, the list is endless. 

When Steve casts a hardened stare your way and you mockingly raise your hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll offer my condolences to the heiress, but I ain’t weeping at her feet for her brother who got himself into that mess because he thought he was too big for his own shoes.”

“Just behave yourself, alright? The last thing we need is the entirety of Europe at war with us.” You roll your eyes and salute the captain. “Yessir.”

You bring the glass rim to your lips and draw a small gulpful of your refurbished liquor, the fiery taste rolls over your tongue, you savour it to keep your sanity intact lest you go insane from the waiting. Where was the heiress? 

“Well, well, I thought I wouldn’t see any of you again. Especially you.” Your head, as well as those of your group, direct their gaze to the new voice. The corners of your lips twitch up and you flash her a wolfish grin, chin tilting up slightly in your relaxed position against the bar. You looked like a cat happily laying in the sun. 

“Miss Romanoff,” each of the men greeted with a nod of their heads. You, however, pat your thigh as an invitation for her to sit. “I had work to do the next morning.”

“Mm, that’s what you tell the other girls, I’m sure.” You clap a hand to your chest with a wince. “You wound me, Sweetheart. If I had the chance, I would have stayed.” 

She hums but it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you by the rise in her brow. 

Natasha Romamoff is a hard fish to catch. One of the more established families that control practically the entirety of Europe, alongside the Maximoff family, the two were partners and crafting an empire strong enough to stand on their own without any dire need for support. 

Yes, her family had prior dealings with the brotherhood. The Starks, Wilsons, Barnes and Rogers and more, whether to collaborate on a bigger criminal project to the smaller portioned deals. Smuggled goods and weapons, blackmail intel deliverance, international bribery to keep the feds off your backs. But she never committed to joining forces. 

You suppose it’s a good power move on her part. She doesn’t have to abide by any of the family creeds, in the end, you’re all loose ends that may potentially be severed if need be. She had the ball in her court and the mysterious Maximoff heiress. 

Even your animal magnetism wasn’t enough to charm her into joining forces with Stark and his powerhouse of families, but they were surely enough to charm her into a wild one night stand. 

But as you told her. You had work to do. And now she appears to spurn you with her eyes and cruel words, but still entertains your flirtatious advances and indulges the empty space of your thigh.

For a well respected mob boss such as herself, she definitely liked to play it risky; dressing included. 

Last you saw her, she was dressed in a more professional manner. But here at this funeral party, whatever the fuck it was, she chose to wear a black, spaghetti strap cocktail dress that’s short enough to be skimming the mid of her thigh. The slit riding the dress up higher is just plain dangerous. 

She’s facing you, back arched and ass resting on the cliff of your knee. Your clawed hand supports her at the small of her back. Her perfume is strong and complimenting, the sweet bouquet of lavender rolls over the exposed tops of her breasts from her even more exposed neck. Her plump, red lips move in a way that’s hypnotic. “So I hear you’re going to be a bargaining chip for Wanda Maximoff.”

“Where’d you hear that?” you scoff with a flick of your chin. 

“I have spies who whisper to me,” she answers with a swift quirk of her brow. 

Of course she overheard the news. She then chuckles softly, and all eyes watch her with a level of suspicion. “She won’t take any deal you offer her. She’s determined to steer clear of your little gang wars over in the states.”

“Rumlow killed her brother and he has bases around our territories. Wouldn’t she appreciate the extra hands in catching the rat?” Bucky poses the question with a dark brow angled high and clenched jaw, the muscles in his cheeks flex harder when Natasha offers no affirmative response; a mark to hopefully land you in the door and good graces with the heiress. 

“You really think she wants a guard dog?” 

“Hey,” you growl with a wrinkle of your nose, fangs on the precipice of baring at her. How she used the term in a condescending manner made the fur beneath your skin bristle. Sam claps a hand to your shoulder, somehow able to sense the seething anger within you. 

“We just want to help. Offer support for her loss and bring Rumlow down.”

“No. You want a foothold in Europe. And I’m sorry but…” She looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you and you know she can see you without your clothes on. “You’re not going to cut it, babe.”

She turns her body to make her getaway but you don’t let her slip away just like that. She gasps and looks to you with a furrowed glare when your arm circles her waist and tugs her back until she’s flush against you, the men in your company watch with trepidation of your next course of action.

“I will cut it because whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs us.”

Natasha’s eyes, true to her fashion, darken with a challenge. “You’re wasting your time. She’ll get Rumlow herself.”

“And if Rumlow plans to get her first?” For a moment you see the doubt cross her face. “That’s where she needs me.”

“Tony Stark.” Each of the men turn to the voice behind them and their once cool and collected selves turn rigid, nervous under the power one woman can hold so absolute, her green eyes scan each of their faces before they land on you. 

You finally look and meet her stare, still holding Natasha against you even as she tries to push away from you. 

“Unhand her,” the woman commands with an accented tongue. 

At first, you wanted nothing more than to play this out a little, see what makes this woman tick. But both Tony and Steve look at you, silent in their order, you sigh heavily and release Natasha. Once you do, she wastes no time in joining Wanda’s side with a bow of her head. 

“I hear that you wished to have an audience with me.” 

Wanda is the sole survivor of this ordeal. Her parents were assassinated two years ago and now her brother was killed. This is the stressed matter at hand, her empire could crumble to the ground, all that hard work put into the grave, because she’s being so fucking stubborn with this deal.

“I will not sign my family, nor any of my shares, to Stark Industries. Enough have I done to keep you out of the hands of law enforcement. I will handle Rumlow myself.”

This isn’t how any of you hoped this would go. The grief has made her stronger than before. It wasn’t exactly you were waiting for the chance for her to have a weak spot and try your luck, but you all had thought she might even be at least a little desperate for extra help. 

Natasha’s face says it all: I told you so. You can only roll your eyes and resume with what you’re doing. 

“Miss Maximoff, we only wish to help you. All we ask in return is that you grant us some territory to work with for our trade deals as payment for support lent to you to catch Rumlow.”

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST — (Even though I doubt this is worth putting the taglist on, here it is anyway)

@alexawynters

[bleue-flora]

Was gonna do everyone, but I'm feeling lazy so here's what I got so far for the playdate au character details:

Name - Make Believe Name(s) - Age - Favorite Color - Physical Appearance - Other

Phil - Philza, Dadza - 16 - dark green - greenish blue eyes, gingerish blond hair - when he decides to go outside and play with the kids he tends to wear a silly looking striped hat (mostly though he tends to stay inside and text his girlfriend, Kristen)

Wilbur - WilburSoot (or also Ghostbur, Revivebur) - 13 - Blue - pretty fit and tan (because he’s on the school’s swim team), tall and lanky, brown hair and eyes - almost always wears his colonial style hat and when it’s cold enough his favorite yellow sweater

Sam - Awesamdude, Sam, Sam-nook, The Warden - 12 - green - naturally light brown hair he dyed green, brown eyes - has glasses, wears yellow tee-shirt and green cargo pants that he fills the pockets of with all kinds of handy tools and things, including rocks that he loves to collect, has a fake ruby necklace he loves to wear as well as his crown

Clay - Dream - 11 - lime green - green eyes, dirty blond hair - as he’s autistic he wears comfy clothes only like gym shorts and soft tee-shirts for example and hoodies when it’s cold enough (he will not be caught dead in jeans), used a paper plate with a smile on it to jump scare Tommy once and now it’s his Dream aesthetic

Luke - Punz - 11 - blue - bright blond hair and blue eyes - has a gold necklace he never takes off, his ears are pierced with some gold studs,, his favorite outfit is his ripped black jean shorts and white tee-shirt

Alex - Quackity - 10 - Red - dark brown eyes and black hair, kinda more short stubby - him and his family are mexican, tends to wear classic dark blue and black and doesn’t mind getting dressed up for the occasion, always wears a beanie though, carries a pack of candy cigarettes he pretends to light with a lighter he found, tends to carry a deck of cards and his dad’s old pocket knife, knows a little more than a kid should, has a little scar over his lip from falling face first that Techno turned into a whole lore point

Alexander - Technoblade - 9 - red - blue eyes and dirty blond hair though he tried to dye it an edge red to be cool and it turned out pink instead - he loves to wear his red cape and crown all the time, someone once called him a pig because of his pink hair and after that he added pig ears and nose to his Technoblade look, he also often is seen riding his stick horse steed named Carl, he has glasses that George often steals

Mark - Ranboo - 8 - purple - brown hair, green eyes and super tall and lanky - entire wardrobe is black with lots or variations of black and white, often see with sunglasses and face mask on to be mysterious and of course his crown

Nick - Sapnap - 7 - Orange - brown eyes and unkempt hair that’s just long enough to be annoying that he keeps out of his eyes with his white ninja headband - favorite outfit is black athletic shorts or pants with a flame themed shirt, when it’s cold he’ll wear the same shirts just with a long sleeve black shirt underneath, often carriers around a katana and pretends to be a stealthy ninja

Karl - Karl Jacobs - 7 - purple - light brown hair and blue eyes - when it’s cold he loves to wear his iconic hoodie, he wears lots of fun colors and patterns like the stereotypical stylish gay guy, he has a old stopwatch he likes to carry around

Thomas - Tommy, Tommyinnit - 6 - red - blond hair, blue eyes, tall (for his age) and lanky - likes to wear khaki and that two toned classic tee-shirt, often see with red bandana around his next like some western outlaw and appropriate red devil horns

Toby - Tubbo - 6 - green - bright blond hair and blue eyes - Niki gave him bumble bee barrettes he wears to keep his bangs out of his eyes, he’s very attached to his stuffed pig, can be found wearing cuffed jean shorts or sometimes overalls

George - Gogi - 5 - light blue -  brown eyes and messy hair - always carries around his mushroom patterned blanky, likes wearing his favorite iconic blue shirt and jeans

Current families developed in age order:

Dream, Techno, Sapnap, George

Phil, Wilbur (and surely Fundy needs to be the youngest)

Purpled, Quackity, Slimecicle

Punz, Vikk and Lazar (4 year old twins)

(Ya know based off appearances alone maybe Tubbo and Tommy should be twins?…)

 Others TBD...

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - III

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader

— word count: +1,605.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 3

''I wouldn't trust her if I were you, Alexander.''

Alexander looks up at the map he was studying when Parmenion decided to speak. He stared at the general, waiting for him to finish speaking.

''We don't know anything about her and there's clearly something wrong about her.'' Parmenion finished speaking, feeling slightly disturbed by the King's piercing gaze.

''I wouldn't trust her either if I were Parmenion, but I'm Alexander.'' He replied, turning his eyes to the map. It was a map of the most convenient routes for the entire army to pass. They were hunting Bessus and the best choice would be Bactria.

Alexander smirked when he heard a light laughter and he didn't even need to look to know it was Hephaestion. His best friend and closest companion forever. Alexander wouldn't know what to do if something happened to him.

''We don't know anything about her, as you say,'' Alexander began, looking at Parmenion again, ''which is why I have decided that she is not a threat.''

''And how can you be sure of that?'' Cassander grumbled loudly. Alexander looked at him with a stern expression, but the general didn't even flinch.

''Are you questioning your King?'' His voice was low but deadly. A pretty clear warning.

Apparently Cassander had no self-preservation as he glared at Alexander with a hateful expression on his face. The King leered at him as if daring him to say something.

Wisely, Cassander kept silent.

Satisfied with that, Alexander continued to speak, ''She's just a confused young woman. What risks might it present to an army? For Alexander's army?''

No one answered.

Running away wasn't the most viable option, you realized very quickly. And besides, where would you go?

You didn't know anything about this place, the people and you were very far from home. Both in distance and in time.

So how would you run away? If you ran away it would be worse for you. They might not be so... Benevolent. And bad things could happen to you. You could be robbed, abused, murdered or even enslaved.

So no, running away was definitely not a viable option. For now.

You needed a plan. A strategy. You needed to survive at any cost. It was no longer a choice, it was a necessity. You couldn't go on any longer in that time, you needed to go back to your home, your family and your friends.

Your family...

Your heart squeezed inside your chest at the thought of your parents. You hadn't thought about them since you came across this place.

How were they? Had they already noticed your absence? Fuck, you felt like crying again. Your mind conjuring up images of your parents devastated by your disappearance, and that is if they even know you're gone. Your vision blurred as more tears rolled down your face.

You hated crying that much. You hated that feeling of desperation, like there was a lurking monster waiting to attack you.

Your eyes were already stinging from your previous bout of crying and they stinged even more as new tears formed. You wanted to stop crying, you wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare and you would wake up in your comfortable bed, that there would be walls around your instead of a tent canvas, that there would be LED lights and electronic devices around your and not candles and an empty tent.

You hated hearing the noise of the soldiers outside, the horses and the swords waving.

You hated it all.

''Excuse me?''

Your head whipped around at the sound of a voice and it honestly hurt a little. You tried to look at the man but your vision was blurry from tears, but you recognized him as the man you had found attractive.

The one with the blond hair and dark blue eyes.

''Wh-What do you want?'' Your voice was choked and harsher than you expected, but it didn't matter at the moment.

''I...'' He faltered for a moment at the sight of you crying and his chest tightened at the sight, ''I came to check on you.''

You frowned but decided not to argue.

He took a step forward, approaching the cot where you were sitting and collapsing.

''Are you... okay?'' His voice was low but there was genuine concern.

You looked up, still teary-eyed, and he fell silent instantly.

''May I?'' He pointed to the cot beside you. You thought for a moment and nodded. The cot moved a little as he sat down next to you, his shoulders close to yours and thighs almost touching. You shuddered a little at the contact, but you kept silent, trying to stop the tears.

''Your name is (Y/N), right?'' You nodded at his question, ''I'm Perdiccas. It's an honor to meet you.''

Perdiccas...

His name was not unfamiliar to you and you choked on your own saliva as you remembered who he was. He was the regent of Alexander's Empire after the latter's death.

He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat to see him smiling. Perdiccas reached up with callused fingers and touched your cheekbones, wiping away the tears. You blushed at the touch but allowed him to wipe away your tears.

''Th-Thanks...'' You mumbled and he just nodded.

''You shouldn't cry.'' He whispered and closed his eyes, ''It doesn't suit you.''

You arched your eyebrows. Doesn't suit you? For the love God! He didn't even know you and talked like you were best friends.

''I'm sorry but you don't know me to say whether it suits me or not. You doesn't know anything about me.'' You decided to be direct. He seemed to be kind, at least that's what you assumed, it didn't look like he wanted to hurt you.

Perdiccas laughed a little, ''You're right. I don't know you but I'd love to do it.'' He said and got up from the cot, smiling gently at you.

''Why?''

He shrugged, walking to the flap of the tent. ''I don't know.'' Perdiccas confessed, still smiling at you, ''But I wish I could be your friend, (Y/N). Am I pronouncing your name right?''

''Yes...''

Perdiccas bowed slightly, in an act of play, you know. Greeks bow to none but the gods.

''I hope to see you tonight.''

You got confused, ''Tonight? What's happening tonight?''

Perdiccas chuckled, “A feast in Alexander's tent. You were invited.''

What?

''Oh...'' You frowned, ''I don't have anything to wear...'' You tried to come up with an excuse for not having to attend and that was the only one you thought of at that moment.

But apparently that would not be accepted.

''Don't worry about that. I'll send you a chiton, along with some jewelry.'' Your eyes widened upon hearing his words.

''I...''

Perdiccas laughed, ''Thank me later. But I hope to see you there, (Y/N). I wish I could be your friend...'' He left before you could answer him.

Oh dear... It was all so...

Unbelievable.

And Perdiccas was even more so. Why was he being so nice to you? And why do you like it?

Your mind screamed desperately for you not to trust anyone but yourself, but your heart... Your heart told you to make friends, allies and maybe they could help you get back home.

Yes. Maybe making friends with Perdiccas isn't so bad after all.

Your heart will be your downfall.

You feel awkward and uncomfortable while being washed by servants sent by Perdiccas. You assumed so since he was the only one talking to you.

You tried to avoid it at first, but they wouldn't have it and soon you found yourself undressed and being bathed.

You were sure this was your most embarrassing moment in the world. You haven't needed help bathing since you were a small child and now...

Here you were having your hair and your body washed. Your face and body were totally red with embarrassment and you were even redder when you were pulled out of the water and dressed.

''This is so inconvenient,'' you thought as a servant adorned your hair with a jewel General Perdiccas sent you.

''There, lady.'' She said and bowed slightly, leaving the tent along with the other maids as you were dressed for the feast.

You didn't know what you looked like, you didn't know if you looked pretty or if you looked like a clown. You prayed it wasn't the last option. There were no mirrors available, so you decided to trust the servants' judgment.

You were dressed in a white chiton with some gold straps, it looked quite nice, although loose but it made you more comfortable. An ancient greek sandal and some lent jewelry. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic that started to build in your body.

You could do this.

You could go to that feast, make allies, and when you finally did, leave this place.

''Are you ready?'' Your eyes went towards Perdiccas, standing at the entrance of the tent and looking at you with shining eyes. You studied him a bit, noting that he was also well dressed, no armor or weapons in sight, just a white chiton and a few ornaments.

You nodded nervously and let him walk over and hook your arm through his.

You would do it. You would make it.

And so, close to each other, you and Perdiccas started walking to where the feast would be, the loud noise welcoming you.

— lady l: weren't you expecting a chapter today? Well, neither do I! I planned to post on saturday but as I'm going to travel, so here it is. I know there were no interactions between Y/N and Alexander, but I wanted to show how her relationship with one of the generals will be! In the next chapter there will be interactions between Y/N and Alexander! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! If you want to talk, send theories or anything, I'm always open. I love you all! ❤️