#and I somehow lost him in a parking garage in between the elevator and the car :(

[ttngummybear]

Wampus the chick says hello

[frostedfaves]

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

-

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you. 

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

-

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled. 

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.” 

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” 

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest. 

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

-

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

-

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

-

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

-

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

-

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy. 

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

-

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

[midnight-dreamerness]

Savior

Chapter 2: Finding Strength

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm

word count: 2.1k

-

Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.

You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.

You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.

“Did you do it?”

There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.

“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”

And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.

“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”

With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.

After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.

Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”

You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.

“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.

When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?

These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.

It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.

“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.

What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?

The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.

Deceive Hay Halstead.

You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.

You wondered if he would be proud of you now.

Would he?

There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.

It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.

You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.

I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.

You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.

Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.

He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.

But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.

You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.

So you sucked it up.

It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.

The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.

“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.

You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.

“Do it.” It would say.

Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.

You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.

“You’re strong. Remember that.”

You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.

A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.

How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.

Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”

He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.

I lost myself trying to please him.

You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.

You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.

You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry

One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.

It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.

You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.

“Halstead.”

“JJ?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.

“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.

“Address. I need an address.”

The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.

Jay repeats your name a couple of times.

“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.

“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”

You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.

Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.

“How the hell did you get out?”

He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.

“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.

“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.

You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.

“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.

“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.

“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.

There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.

“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”

The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.

“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.

Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”

~

A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!

@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life

(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)

[hotchseyebrows]

now i scan the sky for snow

a penelope garcia x emily prentiss fic

a/n: my very first fic!! woooooooooooo!! thank you for giving it a read and heres to many more :)))

written to fill the prompt "31 (quiet) + seeing your breath, a ship of your choice" from @derekmorqan (better late than never, eh jay?)

read it here on ao3!!

It's January in Boise and Penelope doesn't have any gloves. But her nails definitely match the monochrome purple look of the day, so can you really blame her?

word count: 1561

“Prentiss, when did Hotch go get the car?” Penelope’s voice is muffled from where she’s blowing hot air into her ungloved hands. 

 

Emily glances at her phone. “It’s only been 2 minutes.” In a practiced dad move, Hotch decided to make the trek through the flurries of snow to the SUV alone, citing Penelope’s tall heels and the potential for black ice in the parking garage, leaving Emily and Penelope standing outside of their Boise hotel. Earlier, Emily and Hotch stayed behind with Penelope to help her pack up stray gear and cords from her set up in the local precinct while the others got a head start on cleaning up their hotel rooms. By the time the trio got back to the hotel themselves, Rossi had already started the drive to the airport with Reid, Morgan, and JJ, all of them happy to be heading home after a rough case. 

Penelope makes a small huff before wrapping both of her arms around her stomach. The puff of air floats upward, creating a small cloud in between them before dissipating. “Why don’t you have gloves anyway, Garcia? It’s January and we’re in the middle of Idaho.”

 

Penelope crinkles her nose a little as she sticks her tongue out at Emily. “But my nails are so cute and gloves would cover them!” She’s right, her nails are a sparkly purple that coordinates well with the sparkly purple beanie on her head and the deep purple lipstick that Emily can’t stop staring at when she talks. 

 

“You forgot them in your bat cave before we got on the jet, huh?”

 

The pink flush on Penelope’s cheeks from the cold turns much more scarlet. “I’m not used to winter prep for a go-bag, let alone maintaining a go-bag at all!”

 

Emily chuckles, privately memorizing the contrast of the rosy flush and her purple lips and how shiny her eyes are behind the large purple hexagon glasses. “Do you want to wait in the lobby?” Surprisingly, Penelope shakes her head even as she visibly shivers underneath her puffy coat.

 

“The snow is so pretty out here. And it’s so quiet, like there’s no one else in the world.” She tilts her head up, eyes closed for a moment as she sticks her tongue to catch some flurries. After a beat, her eyes open and she looks at Emily with joy dancing in her gaze. “Come on Emily, have fun with me.”

 

“I always have fun with you, Penelope,” she says too honestly. Penelope sees something in her face that makes her pause and they stand in silence. The snow falls gently and the puffs of their breath mingle in the space between them.

 

Emily tells herself she’s watching their breath and the snow simultaneously but her eyes remain fixed only on Penelope. Without giving it too much thought, she pulls off her gloves and hands them to her. “Your hands are still shaking,” she says in answer to the silent question in the tilt of Penelope’s head.

 

“But now you’ll be cold.”

 

Emily shrugs. But that isn’t good enough for Penelope, who hands back the left glove before pulling the right one on herself. “Penelope, I don’t need-”

 

“Oh no, I won’t hear it, we can share or you can have them both back.” It’s moments like this that make Emily’s heart skip a few beats. Penelope’s effortless kindness is currently a stubborn glint in her eyes and Emily knows better than to argue. She makes a small production out of acquiescing, pulling the glove on with a dramatic sigh. Penelope laughs, the sound bright and warm as it bounces through the cold quiet air. It’s the best sound in the world.

 

Emily can’t help but smile in response. Snow is lightly covering the puffy sleeves of Penelope’s coat and creating its own set of sparkles on the purple beanie. She uses the gloved hand to brush the shoulders clean. Penelope’s gaze on her face is a warm and tangible thing somehow, and suddenly her face feels incredibly hot. Her hand comes to a rest, lightly gripping her upper arm. “Um. Is your- is your other hand still cold?”

 

Penelope nods. Emily nods back, flexing her own ungloved hand. She extends it palm up towards Penelope. “For warmth,” Emily says, voice not as shaky as she feels all of a sudden.

 

Penelope blinks twice, before slipping her hand into Emily’s without a word. They both stare at their joined hands until Penelope twists her hand, interlocking their fingers. Emily’s whole arm crackles with a low flame, warmth billowing up the limb and spreading through her torso. In pursuit of that warmth, Emily takes a step closer. The only sound she can hear is the mixed sounds of their breathing. She glances down to watch the breath leave Penelope’s purple lips into the cold air and can’t tear her eyes away. Penelope’s fingers twitch and then tighten in Emily’s grip. Glancing up to take in her whole face, Emily is sucked in by the openness of her expression- the way the cold has made her glow, the way her eyes are gazing back into Emily’s with softness and hesitation all at once, the way the warmth of her exhales slightly fog up her glasses, the way snowflakes land on her eyelashes and her nose and her hair and the swell of her cheeks and slowly become beads of water- and opens her own mouth because she has to say something, right?

 

“Penelope, I-”

 

Just then, Hotch pulls up next to them. The hum of the engine is like a crack in the perfect stillness of the moment and Emily jumps back slightly from the surprise. Their hands, still entangled, drop out of his line of sight. Penelope circles her thumb on Emily’s skin once, twice, and then a third time before letting go. Emily shivers, but she knows this time it isn’t from the cold.

 

Hotch gets out of the car to help with the bags, and Emily manages to fully tear her attention away from Penelope. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sees it has been a little longer than she would have expected, even accounting for the car being on the 4th floor of the parking garage and the elevator being completely out of order.

 

“What took you so long, Hotch?” She’s half joking, mostly looking to listen to something over her own pounding heart. But he blushes in response, a similar color to Penelope’s pretty flush from slight embarrassment just minutes earlier. It makes her stop and really look at him. He’s limping the tiniest bit, and the back of his coat looks slightly damp. Emily bites her lip, debating if she should say something more. Penelope, however, has no such debate.

 

“Oh! Bossman! Did you fall?” She waddles over on her heels, careful not to slip herself. “Are you ok?”

 

He clears his throat before leaning down and picking up the two largest of their bags. “I’m fine.” The signature Hotch glare is back in full force, but she knows he’s a little embarrassed. His cheeks haven’t lost all of the red flush yet and he won’t quite meet their eyes. Instead, he stows the suitcases in the back of the SUV before grabbing two more. 

 

They glance at each other, attempting to hide a smile. He notices, because of course he does, but that just sends them both into actual laughter. After a moment, he starts to laugh too. They all climb into the car, Emily holding the passenger seat door open for Penelope and offering a hand (that is very enthusiastically taken) to help her into the car. As he puts the car in drive and the laughter fully dies out, he says “I told you I was worried about black ice.”

 

It makes Penelope laugh all over again, but Emily just watches her from her seat behind Hotch. Her beanie is still firmly on her head and the remaining bits of snow all over her are melting in the heat from the car. Emily flexes her ungloved hand again, arm still feeling tingly. Penelope sees her do it in the rearview mirror, and blushes again. Their eyes meet, and they share soft secretive smiles. If Derek hasn’t saved Penelope a seat and if Spencer isn’t taking up the whole couch again, maybe I’ll try to discreetly sit next to her on the couch. Just in case her hands are still cold. 

 

Penelope only breaks their stare when Hotch asks her something about some budget maneuvering for new computer nonsense. She responds to him with her signature enthusiasm, and Emily settles back into her seat, knowing this conversation will probably last until they get to the airport. She’s content to only half listen and instead enjoy watching Penelope be incredibly smart and passionate. She keeps glancing back at her in the rearview mirror, but Emily doesn’t mind that Penelope knows she’s staring. Her mind drifts off as she watches Penelope’s mouth move as she speaks. She thinks about how close she was doing something reckless. She’s still close to doing something reckless if she’s being completely honest. Somehow though, she doesn’t think she’s the only one. The snow is still falling, and it’s still the middle of winter in Idaho. Yet, Emily Prentiss has never felt so warm.

[shootwinterfest]

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis The Season by @asleepinawell

CHECK OUT THE ART COLLABORATION!!

Companion art by @maarikaaaa

Shaw slouched in the driver's seat and sighed loudly. "What's taking her so long?"

"You seem awfully worried," Reese said from the passenger's seat.

"I'm not worried. Root can handle babysitting a number by herself."

"Of course."

Long seconds ticked by as they waited. Shaw looked around the interior of the underground parking garage they were waiting in, hoping for something to distract herself with, but nothing stirred. She watched suspiciously as Reese fiddled with the dial on the car stereo. The reception here was shitty, but she could still make out the opening notes of Jingle Bells on the station Reese stopped on.

"No."

"’Tis the season, Shaw."

"I can hurt you."

"That's how you get on Santa's naughty list."

In the back seat, Bear whined.

"See? Bear hates it. Change the station."

"It's Christmas Eve."

"Who cares?"

She reached out to change the station, but Reese held his hand over the stereo to stop her. She thought about breaking one of his fingers, but then she'd have to listen to him complain about that while they waited. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the little clock just below where Reese's hand was. Eight twenty-three. Root had said to pick her up at eight.

"You how what? Fine. Put on whatever you want. I'm going to go find Root and drag her down all forty floors of this damn building."

"So you are worried about her then."

"No."

Shaw climbed out of the car and then stuck her head back in so she could address the remaining occupants.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, so just keep him out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Reese promised, reaching into the backseat to pat Bear on the head.

"I was talking to Bear." Shaw shut the door to cut off Reese's protest and turned to go.

She wasn't worried about Root. Not yet anyway. It was a simple number: keep an eye on some business CEO lady at her office holiday party. The Machine had been vague about the details, but that was nothing new. Maybe Root was trying to make Shaw come look for her. If that proved to be the case, she'd have to deal with both Root and Reese making snide remarks about her worrying the whole drive back.

She jabbed violently at the elevator button and glared at the doors until the elevator car arrived.

___________________

Root sulked in silence. She wasn't mad about Ricky from the marketing department who'd kept coming on to her half the night (he was currently unconscious and folded up in a closet full of cleaning supplies down the hall), nor was she mad that Judy from customer support had spilled fruit punch on her amazing new Christmas sweater (the punch had only gotten on the sleeve fortunately, which meant the small taser she'd hidden in the enormous stuffed reindeer head that was mounted on the front of the sweater hadn't gotten wet). She wasn't even mad about the armed men who had invaded the holiday party and made all of them sit on the floor in the middle of the conference room.

No, she was mad because she wasn't allowed to go and do horrible and unpleasant things to the party crashers because someone was worried one of the hostages might get hurt in the process. The Machine wasn't letting her have any fun today.

"Do you think they're going to kill us?" the terrified man next to her asked.

"Probably," Root said, distracted by one of their captors who was doing something vaguely interesting with the computer in the next room. She craned her neck to try and see across the hall better.

The man next to her wailed in panic and Root sighed.

"He'd probably be better off unconscious," she said quietly, hoping the Machine would take pity on her and let her tase him. But no, apparently tasing terrified civilians was not allowed. Not even for Christmas.

She ignored the Machine's suggestion that she try to calm the man down and instead inched away from him to try and get a better look at what was going on across the hall. Just what were these guys after here?

___________________

Shaw had imagined a lot of possible outcomes from her trip to rescue Root--though mostly she'd imagined Root 'apologizing' to her in an empty office while Reese had to wait and freeze to death in the car--but she definitely hadn't imagined that she'd find herself crawling on her stomach through an air vent shaft above the head of a heavily armed man.

Her side trip had started with the elevator coming to an abrupt halt between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors. She'd been annoyed, but not concerned. Until the gunfire had started. Gunfire that definitely didn't sound like the small pistol she knew Root had on her. She'd brightened: maybe this wasn't a wasted trip after all.

The problem of being stuck in an immobile elevator had remained though and she'd been forced to improvise. In this case, improvising had meant climbing out a hatch onto the top of the elevator and prying off the cover of a vent on the wall slightly above her. Her heavy winter coat had been too large to fit in the vent, so she'd left it behind. Also left behind had been the horrible, ugly Christmas sweater she'd had on under it (the only thing that had made it tolerable was Reese had to wear one as well since he'd also lost a bet to Root). It was a shame that the sweater would probably never be recovered from the depths of the elevator shaft which she had gleefully flung it down, but surely Root couldn't blame her for losing it under the circumstances.

The black tank top she'd had on under all that wouldn't keep her warm outside, but it wouldn't get snagged in an air duct either. And it looked much better on her than the sweater had.

And then, after crawling through the metal vent for what felt like a million years, she'd finally seen a grate in the side of it that looked down into a room below. Which was where she saw the man with all the guns.

She couldn't hear everything he said over his little radio communicator, but she did pick up enough to get the general impression that there were multiple armed men here and some of them had been sent to sweep the floors above and below where the main group was. Which of course meant the main group was on the same floor as Root's stupid party because of course it was. The building was supposed to be empty other than for the party, she learned as she listened, and with the power to the elevators cut off no one could get up to the thirtieth floor (where the party was) without taking the stairs.

What she didn't get out of it was what the group was after, though for the moment that didn't matter too much.

She waited until the man walked past her position just a bit and then knocked the grate out with one hard kick and sprang out of the vent like a panther leaping on its prey. The man let out a very unprofessional shriek when she landed on him, and she shut him up by choking him unconscious with the strap from his gun. Her gun now.

The radio communicator, which had fallen on the ground when she'd pounced, crackled to life.

"What's going on down there? I'm sending backup."

Shaw ignored the radio in favor of looting the unconscious man for weaponry. There was a very nice combat knife strapped to his ankle that she inspected with satisfaction.

"Guess I made Santa's nice list after all," she said to herself as she tucked the knife away.

Her eyes fell on the bag the man had been carrying. Now what would an armed thug be carrying around in a bag with him? She unzipped it.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me."

Other than the disturbing amount of C4 in the bag, there was also a spare earpiece communication device of some sort that wouldn't do her much good on its own. Or wouldn't if she didn't have the world's most powerful AI on her side who was hopefully paying attention.

"Can you call Reese on this thing?" she asked as she put the earpiece in. She'd call Root next, but she wanted Reese to get his ass in gear and give her some backup first.

There was some static on the line and then the sound of a phone ringing.

___________________

"It suits you very well," Reese said as he adjusted the headband on Bear. It had been hard to get the red puffball to stay on Bear's nose, but the fake antlers had fit him perfectly and he looked very handsome in his festive cape. And more importantly, Shaw would hate it.

Up in the front seat, the radio blared Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and drowned out the sound of a cell phone vibrating in the cup holder.

___________________

"What the fuck is he doing? Fine. Whatever. Put me through to Root."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Shaw's attention. At least two, probably three, and somehow she doubted they'd come down to invite her to the party.

"Hold that thought for one second," she told the Machine. "Gotta go serve some holiday punch."

___________________

Root was suffering horribly. She'd finally managed to get herself into a good position to watch the man at the computer across the hall, and she could now clearly see that he was trying to hack into the system here, undoubtedly to gain access to some of the company accounts or something equally boring and unoriginal.

The problem she was having though was that he was terrible at his job and she had to sit there quietly and watch him fumble about like he'd never broken into the servers of a security technology company before. Pathetic. It was all she could do to stop herself from going over there and ripping the keyboard away from him and doing it herself.

She was weighing the pros and cons of doing just that when the leader of the group walked by having a frantic conversation with one of the other men. The fact they were speaking in German would have been an issue if the Machine hadn't helpfully translated it all for her.

Apparently they'd lost contact with the three men they'd sent to look into a disturbance on the floor below and they needed to start the elevators again so their backup on the third floor could reach them.

A disturbance. Root smiled. She knew exactly what sort of disturbance could take down three armed men with no effort.

With perfect timing, a voice that wasn't the Machine's whispered in Root's ear. "Root? You there?"

Root moved a little further away from the others and lowered her voice. "Hey, sweetie. I hear you're having fun."

"What the hell is going on up there?"

"Oh, the usual. They're just after money. But Shaw, the hacker they brought with them is terrible. You wouldn't believe what he's--"

"Root. Focus. What's your situation like there?"

"There's only a few men left here besides the leader but they're going to restart the elevators to bring up more people from the third floor."

"The elevators, huh?" There was some rustling over the line. "Say, Root, can the Machine confirm that there's no one else in the building below us other than the bad guys?"

"She says there isn't. Why? What're you going to do?"

"You'll see. Or hear."

And then Shaw was gone leaving Root still stuck in a room full of useless hostages and idiotic thieves. Why did Shaw get to have all the fun?

"This whole sitting here doing nothing thing isn't really working for me," she told the Machine, "so unless you have a bet--"

A deafening boom roared through the room and the entire building shook. Overhead the emergency sprinklers switched on, drenching the already panicked hostages. The man in charge of the thieves and one of his men were yelling at each other in German again and waving their guns around.

They were, the Machine informed her, going to take the hostages up to the top floor and leave the hacker and one or two guards behind here to finish the job.

"Sounds like it's my turn to have some fun then."

And finally the Machine agreed with her.

___________________

In the five minutes between hearing footsteps on the stairs and calling Root, Shaw had incapacitated all three men who'd come to find her. One of the men now had a broken arm, another a broken nose and three less teeth, and the last one had a few minor stab wounds he'd most likely survive.

Shaw had an exciting array of cuts and bruises, and a bullet graze on one arm that wasn't serious but did bleed an annoying amount. But more importantly she had a captive audience (literally) to watch her strap the C4 she'd found to an office chair. She'd gagged all the men when she'd tied them up of course, but she could see the sheer terror in their eyes at the sight of all the plastic explosives in her hands.

It took a lot of effort to pry apart the doors to the elevator shaft and brace them open with a metal pipe. Way down below she could see an elevator car descending to pick up the backup that Root had managed. Just in time.

There were probably other ways to stop the elevator, but Shaw had been shot, punched, and skinned both her elbows in the vents. Also she'd ripped her second most favorite tank top. There would be no mercy today. Especially not for the Christmas sweater that was undoubtedly still in the elevator shaft somewhere.

"You can't do that!" One of her prisoners had somehow spit out his gag. "You'll bring the whole building down with us in it!"

Shaw grinned at him as she wheeled the chair of C4 over to the elevator and held it balancing on the edge.

"Yippee ki yay, motherfucker," she said with a wink. And then she let go of the chair.

___________________

"In here, Shaw," Root called without turning around.

"Yeah, you left a trail of unconscious bodies leading right to you," said Shaw from behind her. "How'd the one guy end up hanging from the ceiling fan anyway? And what are you doing on there?"

Root didn't look away from the computer screen. "They were trying to hack in, but Leeroy here is very bad at his job." She gestured at the hacker tied to the chair next to her. "I'm giving him a free demonstration on how to do his job. He should be thanking me." Which he might have been able to do if he hadn't passed out in terror when she'd threatened him with her taser earlier. It wasn't her fault that he was missing out. "This server was cut off from any external network before, but I've given the Machine access now. Might come in handy. You never know."

"Uh-huh, and what happened to all the hostages?"

Root finally looked away from the screen and forgot what she'd been going to say when she caught sight of Shaw. The blood, the sweat, the ripped tank top, messy hair, and bare arms. This was definitely what she'd asked Santa for. Her glasses were in serious danger of fogging up.

"Root? The hostages?"

"Hmm? Oh, them. I locked them out on the roof. They were loud." And then at Shaw's disbelieving look she added, "Well, I did deal with all the bad guys first so it's not like they're really in danger and the Machine has helicopters en route to come rescue them before they freeze to death." It wasn't like she'd left them out there without their coats or anything. She wasn't heartless!

"So are we done here then? Because I think the NYPD are probably going to be crawling all over here looking for whoever blew out all the windows on the ten lowest floors of the building."

"The Machine is taking care of that as well. We'll be gone before they get here." But Shaw was probably right and they should leave. She got up and straightened out her clothes, which drew her attention to the fact that Shaw did not have on the sweater she'd agreed to wear tonight. "What happened to your sweater, Shaw?"

"Tragic accident. Couldn't be avoided. Next time don't make me wait twenty minutes in the car with Reese and maybe the sweater will survive."

"We'll see about that." She had extras back in their apartment.

They had to take the stairs back down through the ruined building since the elevators were...no longer in service and Root spent the long walk down enjoying the view of Shaw's back and arms. Sure this hadn't been the smoothest number they'd ever handled, but the important thing was they'd both had fun.

And maybe, she thought as she watched Shaw pause on a stair landing and use her shirt tail to wipe some sweat off her face, they had just enough time for a little more fun. Making out in a stairwell hadn't been where she'd expected her day to end up, but the Machine had chosen her for her ability to adapt and improvise so she gave it her all. And while the remnants of the flames from the earlier explosion still flickering around them weren't really the same as a yule log in the hearth, it still felt very seasonal.

Even the stuffed reindeer head on her shirt that kept jabbing Shaw in the stomach when they kissed couldn't ruin the moment.

___________________

"What happened to your sweater?" Reese asked right as Shaw asked, "What the hell happened to my dog?"

To make matters worse, Root was already taking pictures of Bear with her phone which meant the humiliating reindeer cosplay Reese had forced on Bear was being immortalized. Shaw resolved to steal Root's phone later and delete the evidence.

"I got a text I'm assuming was from the Machine that told me not to worry about the rather large explosion in the building I'm parked under," Reese said. "Why do I always miss all the fun?"

"That's what you get for making me listen to shitty music," Shaw said as she opened the door to let Bear back into the car. "Also, you're too tall to crawl through air ducts. Let's get out of here before someone shows up asking questions."

She figured she had a few more hours before all the excitement from the day wore off and she started feeling all the bruises she'd gotten, and she planned to make good use of that time. Getting Root out of the goddamn reindeer sweater was definitely a top priority for multiple reasons.

"Didn't expect Christmas Eve to end with a bang," Reese said as they drove away.

Root piped up from the backseat. "Actually the banging hasn't start--"

Shaw smacked the radio button on and some horribly cheerful song about snow drowned Root out.

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 11

Word Count: 3,512

POV: Sid’s

Warnings: Maybe Language? But I don’t think so.

Notes: So I thought this was going to be the chapter that there was smut, but it turned out a bit long, so I saved it for the next chapter. Good news, I’m almost done with that chapter. It might just come out early! I’m trying not to put myself on a schedule any more, so we will see. This is just cute and fluffy kind of defining their relationship.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

You made your way down to breakfast, Stanley Cup in hand. It was an amazing feeling, but then the past twenty-four had been that. Waking up with (Y/N) in your arms, and that trophy in your room was a high that no drug could replicate. The only thing you missed now, was her sitting beside you, eating breakfast, though you wouldn’t have minded staying in bed with (Y/N) and ordering room service. 

 She chose that moment to enter the room. Was it just you or was her smile a little brighter this morning? You knew yours was. She grabbed a plate of food and then headed over to a table, that was not yours. You frowned. “Something wrong Sid?” Flower asked taking the seat beside you. Only your best friend would’ve noticed the look.

 “No.”

 “Uh-huh,” he answered, following your gaze which was trained on (Y/N). You couldn’t imagine why she was sitting so far away. “Does this mean I’m sitting alone again on the plane?”

 “What?”

 “I see where you’re looking. What happened? Did you piss her off or something?”

 “No,” well not that you knew of. She’d literally just left your bed, not thirty minutes ago. You’d thought everything was fine, well better than fine, at least that’s the impression you got when you kissed her and she kissed you back. Now she had you wondering though. 

 “Your face says something different.”

 “It’s just…” you were afraid to reveal any more, even though Flower knew your feelings for (Y/N). You knew that she was leery about dating you with her job, and there were too many people around to hear what truly happened last night. “I’ll talk to you later about it.”

 “Maybe you should talk to her instead. I’ve always found that it’s easiest just to say sorry, even if you weren’t wrong.” Flower added before shoveling eggs into his mouth. You sat there finishing your breakfast replaying the morning over in your brain, yet couldn’t think of anything that would make (Y/N) mad, that she wouldn’t come and have breakfast with you. It was twenty minutes later, that you saw her heading to the elevators, to grab her bag, or so you assumed as the bus was leaving shortly. You jumped up, claiming to have forgotten something, even though your stuff was already on the bus.

 The elevator doors were just about to close when you stuck your hand between them to stop them. You quickly jumped inside, noticing that it was just the two of you. Being in the elevator with her would forever remind you of when you two were stuck, and you finally realized how badly you wanted her. It was a good memory. As the door slid shut, you turned to her and ask, “Are you mad at me?”

 “No, why?”

 “You didn’t sit with me at breakfast.” She looked at you then giggled; you didn’t see one thing funny about the whole situation and found yourself frowning at her.

 “Are you really upset about that?” You just shrugged, unsure what would happen if you told her you were. “Sid, I didn’t sit with you, because I don’t want people to think there is something going on between us. I’m just trying to act normal, ya know?” Her explanation made sense, the door to the elevator opened and you followed her out and down the hallway to her room. “Where are you going?” She whispered a bit harshly.

 “With you to finish talking.” 

 She rolled her eyes, yet swiped the key card at the door before looking both ways and shooing you inside, then shutting the door behind her. “Sid, the point of me not being at breakfast wasn’t so you could follow me here.”

 “I don’t see why we just can’t, sit together, and stuff.” You ran a hand through your hair a bit frustrated. “You know it’s going to come out eventually.” 

 “But…well…what if we go out and…well you just don’t like me.”

 You pulled your head back, letting her words sink in, before reaching your hands and grabbing her by the waist. “That’s not even an option, because I already do.” You brought her face close to yours. “Unless you’re worried it’s going to be the other way around?”

 “No,” she blurted out, then blushed a cute shade of pink. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

 “Really? You should tell me more about this.” She shook her head then pulled back, but you tightened your grip.

 “We can’t do this now, the bus is leaving in like ten minutes.”

 “I have a feeling they’ll wait.” She just sighed.

 “For you, yes, but for me. Not so much.” It was your turn to roll your eyes at her. You hated it when she didn’t think she was important to the team. “If I promise that we can discuss this once we’re home; can we please go?”

 “Maybe.”

 “What if I sweeten the deal?” She went up on her toes then and playfully kissed your lips, just lightly grazing them with hers. “Would it help?” You moaned out a yes, and then her lips were capturing yours. Her mouth opened immediately for you to taste her. She tasted faintly of orange juice and something purely (Y/N). You had a desperate need to toss her on the bed and see if the rest of her tasted as sweet. You weren’t sure who moaned first, you or (Y/N) but the sound had her breaking away from you all too soon. “We need to go.”

 You rested your forehead on hers for just a second, before pecking her lips one more time. “I guess that will have to do for now.” You emphasized the ‘for now’ part, as you hoped to pick this up as soon as the plane landed. 

 “By the way, you’re sitting with Flower on the way home.” You went to protest and she held a finger to your lips. “No buts. We are keeping a normal distance for the time being.” A groan escaped you, but you allowed her this one small measure considering that the season was officially over, and she would no longer be able to use that excuse.

 The plane ride home was endless; well maybe that wasn’t the right word. You still had a good time as it was pretty much a party atmosphere on the jet. It just would have been more fun with (Y/N) by your side, not that you didn’t appreciate Flower and all. Once you landed it was complete chaos. Fans were urged not to come to the airport, yet there were still some there. You passed the cup off to Cullen to carry it down the stairs letting the guys share in the excitement. You tried to talk to (Y/N) before she left the plane but it got too hectic and you somehow lost sight of her, until you saw her car exiting the parking lot. 

 It was already decided on the plane that the party would continue at Mario’s that night. This way everyone’s families could join in. Once you were home you shot (Y/N) a quick text. Park at my place and we can walk down to Mario’s together. You only lived a few short blocks away, and if (Y/N) was parked here, there was a good chance of her staying the night again. You’d already given the cup to Mario before you left the airport, so you didn’t need to lug that down the street. 

 Are you sure people won’t be suspicious? She texted back. Your fingers typed out a quick reply. His place is big, but can’t hold all those cars. No one will think anything of it. You waited patiently for her to answer. Good point, see you at 7. Well, that was one hurdle you were over, now if you could just get her to stay the night again.

 She arrived at your gate a few minutes before seven and you quickly buzzed her in. You met her at the car, so she wouldn’t feel awkward coming up to the door. “Is it ok to park right here?” She was in front of one of the garage stalls.

 “Completely,” you told her. Hell, she could park in your garage if she wanted. When she got out of the car, she took your breath away. She had on a long floral print dresses that tied at her side and flowed all around her and she looked like a breath of summer sunshine. The tie from her white bikini was peeking out of the top. “Did you want to come inside for a bit?” Or maybe the rest of the night? You wanted to add but refrained.

 “It seemed like a lot of people were already at Mario’s when I drove by, maybe we should head down. Do you need to get your stuff?” Mario told everyone to bring bathing suits as it was a beautiful summer evening and he knew people would want to enjoy the pool.

 “Nah, I’m good. Just need to lock up.” You went back to the side door and turned the alarm system on, while (Y/N) grabbed her bag out of the back. “You look beautiful by the way. I was hoping to tell you that while we had drinks inside.”

 “Oh…We can. I mean I didn’t…” That damn blush of hers rose up again.

 You snatched her around the waist and pulled her close, abruptly causing her to cease her ramblings. “It’s fine. You’re right we should get over there. There’s just one thing first.” Tilting your head, you let your lips drift over hers. She leaned closer into you and that’s when you deepened the kiss. You could’ve stayed like that forever until your sunglasses slid off your head and interrupted the moment. She gently lifted them back to the top before pecking your lips one last time. “Now, I guess we can go.” You laced your hands together and started down the drive. “So, is it business as usual again or can we mix some personal in it tonight?”

 “Well we are going to our boss's house, so it would probably be best if it were business.”

 “You know I don’t really look at him as a boss right?” She glanced curiously over at you. “Well, he’s more like...I don’t know an older brother. When I lived there, it just sort of developed into that type of relationship.” 

 “Ok I get that, but he’s still technically my boss.”

 “And no where does it say that we can’t date each other.” It was something you’d looked into the moment you realized that you were developing feelings for (Y/N). “In fact, I think if he knew we were dating; he’d one hundred percent approve.”

 “When did we start dating?” 

 “Oh…I just…well, I figured…” You stammered out.

 “Relax, I’m just teasing you.” She smirked. “I mean we haven’t officially gone out yet, but I kind of do feel like we are dating.” You squeezed her hand then brought up your joined fingers to place a soft kiss across her knuckles.

 “Well, I do plan on taking you out.”

 “Yeah looks like it won’t be the day we planned though.”

 It hit you then, that all the celebration of winning the cup was happening on that day. “What about tomorrow?”

 “Don’t you have to go to the ballpark and throw the first pitch?” You tossed your head back in frustration. “They’re going to expect you to stay for a bit, you know.”

 “True, but won’t you be there? We could sneak out early.”

 “I am officially off of team duty, as you shouldn’t really be getting injured showing the cup off.”

 “What? I could be hit by a foul ball and knocked unconscious. You should really be there just in case.” She just shook her head at you.

 “I doubt that would seriously happen.” You were nearing Mario’s place now, and you knew she’d make you let go of her hand and pretend that you weren’t just talking about going on a date. “We can talk about it later. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

 “Oh, trust me, I’m taking you out tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do.” You went to kiss her one last time but saw Flower and Vero walking down the drive, and (Y/N) pulled away.

 “Don’t let us stop you,” Vero called out as they walked up beside the two of you. “I see you finally came to your senses, Sid.”

  This time it was your turn to blush, for you knew it had taken you long enough to realize that you could have everything you wanted and the girl of your dreams. “Stop giving him a hard time Vero. He’s had a lot of hits to the head with the puck. He’s quite slow on things.”

 “Thanks, Flower. I can always count on you to have my back.” Your sarcasm was not lost on the group.

 Vero looped her arm through (Y/N)’s and headed to the backyard. “But seriously I need to hear all the details.”

 “Well, there’s nothing to tell, we’re just friends.”

 “Please, don’t give me that line. If you’re worried about what people will say don’t be.” Finally, someone who could talk some sense into her. “We’re all just happy that Sid finally realized what a great catch you were and snagged you up in time before someone else did.” She looked back at you then. “You did snatch her up, right? Or was that almost kiss we interrupted something else.”

 “I’m trying to.” You told her. “Maybe you can assure her, that she’s not going to lose her job if she dates me. You are one of her best friends, maybe she’ll listen to you.”

 “Oh pish,” Vero sighed out.

 “What are you fifty?” (Y/N) chirped her, but Vero just continued.

 “You’re not losing anything, by dating that one. I have it on good authority that not only are you irreplaceable, but that one has a pretty good connection with the owner.”

 “Ugh, I swear you are all ganging up on me.”

 “Only because we all love you and want you to be happy.” She looked over at you when she spoke the word ‘love.’ You weren’t quite sure you were ready to go there yet, but it would be easy to see yourself being in love with (Y/N). “Now, loosen up, and let’s have fun tonight. I for one plan on celebrating both the win and the fact that Marc-Andre and I finally got you two together.” 

 Once you entered the party (Y/N) and Vero headed over to where the rest of the girls were, which meant you didn’t get much time with her. Drinks flowed almost as much as the night before. People were jumping in and out of the pool. There were an endless amount of pictures with the cup, even one with all the ladies, including (Y/N), drinking out of straws from it. She looked so damn cute with everyone. At some point, she and Vero were standing over by the edge of the pool, doing shots. “What do you say we go take them for a little dip?” Flower was the king of practical jokes but you weren’t sure how well this one was going to go over. On the other hand, it would be a way to get some attention from (Y/N). 

 “On three?”

 Flower nodded, then counted down. “One…Two…Three.” The two of you went rushing towards the girl, tossing them in the pool with you, drinks and all. 

 You and (Y/N) surfaced at the same time, a look of surprise written across her face. “Sidney Crosby, I can’t believe you just…” You burst into a fit of laughter and she followed you. To say that the four of you had attracted some attention was putting it mildly, for the next thing you knew everyone was jumping in. You grabbed (Y/N) pulling her close so that she was out of the way as Dumo cannonballed into the water. 

 You didn’t let her go, as carried her to a less chaotic end of the pool. “Sorry about throwing you in. You’re not mad, are you?”

 “No, it’s all in good fun, though maybe you should let me go before people notice.”

 “I don’t care, (Y/N) and I wish you didn’t either because I really want to kiss you right now.” She smiled at the comment, yet didn’t come closer for you to put your words into action.

 “I’m just not ready for the whole public thing yet, Sid.” You released her then, a bit frustrated. “Hey,” she called out when you went to turn and leave. She grabbed your hand then and interlocked your fingers, above the surface of the water. “How about we take it one step at a time?”

 “Yeah,” you answered smiling into her eyes. “I can do that.” 

 “Chicken fight!” Someone yelled and you saw some of the ladies getting boosted up on shoulders.

 “So, you game?” you asked (Y/N).

 “Hell ya, and I expect to win.” She said with a wink as you dove under the water, surfacing with her sitting on your shoulders. It was all innocent fun, but the fact that her legs were literally wrapped about your neck, did unspeakable things to you. One by one the girls grappled with each other, most of them falling into the water after a few shoves from the guys underneath them. It was down to you and (Y/N), and Shears, and Jordan. You could tell the young pup didn’t want to offend his captain, and with a few jolts, they were falling down, declaring you and (Y/N) the champs. You swam with her in a victory lap, until someone knocked the Stanley Cup into the water and you felt (Y/N) teeter off your shoulders in an effort to save it. It was no use, as the trophy dove into the pool. “Oh shit!” You weren’t sure who exactly uttered the words, but you burst into laughter, followed by (Y/N) and everyone else. 

 “Well, I guess it floats.” You announced to the group, which was followed by more laughs. The party continued on with the cup just floating around everyone. (Y/N) stayed pretty much by your side, until you’d both had enough of the pool and got out. She was nice enough to share the towel she’d brought with you, even though there were some set out for everyone to use. She headed off to change, then came and found you afterward. 

 To your surprise, she didn’t move away when you placed your hand on the small of her back, as you stood there talking to Horny and Tanger, and their wives. It was a small victory but one you were willing to take. Around one in the morning, the party started to wind down, and you leaned close to her ear and whispered. “Are you ready to go?”

 “Whenever you are.” You went and grabbed her bag for her, telling some people goodbye as you both went in search of your host. You finally found him and Nathalie sitting at a table, sharing a bottle of wine. “Thank you both for an incredible evening.” (Y/N) told them.

 “Oh are you two heading out?” Nathalie asked, glancing down at your joined hands. You thought for sure (Y/N) would pull away but she didn’t. 

 “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough for one night.” You commented. “Do you need me to get these any of these guys out of here for you?”

 “Nah, let them have some fun a little longer,” Mario replied. “We’ll see you both tomorrow.”

 “Oh, no, not me but I’ll be there Wednesday to help with the parade organization.” (Y/N) quickly answered.

 “Really? I thought all the girlfriends were going?” You always knew that Mario had a keen intuition on things. He probably knew you and (Y/N) were perfect for each other long before either of you did. 

 “Um…” 

 “She’ll be there.” You interrupted (Y/N)’s feeble attempt at making any excuse that she wasn’t dating you. 

 “Good, you two have a good night now.” Nathalie chimed in, as (Y/N) tugged on your hand for the two of you to go. You turned, but not before you caught a quick wink from the man who was more like your brother than your boss. 

 As you headed out of the house, you looked over at (Y/N), who was still red from your encounter with the Lemieux’s. “You ok?”

 “Yeah,” she breathed out then chuckled a bit. “I guess I was worried for nothing.” She stopped and then looked you in the eye. “And don’t you dare say I told you so.”

 It was your turn to laugh now. “Would I say that?”

 “Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind.”

 “Well, I’m not going to argue with that.” Your lips were on hers, and you were pretty sure a few people that were leaving saw the whole thing, but nothing mattered whenever you had her in your arms like this. 

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 21

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~4,100

Warnings: Gore, violence, knife play, blood play, blood drinking, smut

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter   Next Chapter  

Read on AO3   Masterlist

To be fair, Lilah had definitely not been expecting the explosion. Sitting at the bar, nursing a bourbon with a single cube of ice, she had been scrolling through her phone while she waited for Brasa to be done with his meeting. The meetings were endless—finance, marketing, general council, outreach—they all meshed together, one right after the other, until she stopped keeping track.

When the elevator door opened and the bomb went off, Lilah had experienced something more than surprise—shock, possibly. Her ears were ringing, the left side of her body bleeding, shrapnel embedded in her arm and leg. She couldn’t speak, could barely see over the dust and smoke.

It took four attempts before Lilah could stand, her limbs refusing to obey the commands of her brain. She leaned heavily against the bar and looked around. The booths nearest to the elevator were destroyed, along with a few of the tables. The bar top was shattered at the far end, glass from liquor bottles dusting the broken wood. The bar tender’s torso was torn in half, the top end blown into the shelves behind the bar.

The more she looked, the more Lilah was overcome with the sight of scattered bodies, staff and visitors, alike. She wobbled on her feet, pain working its way past the adrenaline, throbbing all over. It pulsed behind her eyes, threatening to blind her.

Struggling, Lilah tried to gain her bearings. It took considerable effort to make the first step towards the back door. The second step was exponentially worse. Her fingers left the bar, and all she could do was fall to her hands and knees, bile rising in the back of her throat.

Dry heaving, Lilah couldn’t keep her eyes open. The earth spun around and below so that not even the solid foundation of the floor could ground her. A soft sob reached her ears, and she realized that it was her. She was crying, hot tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Lilah.”

She reached for him blindly with her good arm, her fingers meeting leather and heat. He was saying something, but she heard him as if through deep water. It was here that whatever strength she had gave out. Her body crumbled, rolling limply to lay on her side. Through blurred tears, she saw his face hover  above her, felt him cup her jaw.

Offering no resistance, Lilah let him gingerly open her mouth. A moment later, she tasted his blood. Sweet and warm, Lilah swallowed it down, the stream so fast that she nearly choked on it. He must have cut deep. Desperate to live and for the pain to stop, she took whatever he was willing to give.

It was a long time—or, it felt like a long time, Lilah had no real sense of the minutes passing—before she could open her eyes without pain. The room was dark. She could hear the faint ripple of water. The floor below her was cool stone.

He’d moved her into his public office.

Lilah didn’t dare try to sit up. Her left side still burned with pain, her stomach rolling with nausea. Her ears, however, were perfectly able to hear the conversation happening not far away.

“I want his people dead, Javier. I want him found and brought to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“No mistakes.”

“Of course.”

“Go. Now.”

“Immediately, my lord.”

Footsteps walked past her, beautifully tailored slacks swimming past her field of vision. Lilah remained where she was, though she followed him until he turned towards the door. She felt Brasa move closer, saw him kneel down and sit beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

She took her time with speaking, “I hurt. I feel...tired.”

That was accurate. Though his blood was helping with the pain, her left side still throbbed, her head aching. She was exhausted in a way that told her she might not wake up if she slept.

Brasa hummed, acknowledging the statement, “If you’re feeling well enough, I will take you home.”

Lilah probably wasn’t quite up to the trip, but the possibility of sinking into their bed was too tantalizing to put off. She nodded, helping him to gather her into his body. He lifted her into a firm cradle, walking through to the back hallway. They took several turns, until she’d lost the ability to navigate, finally climbing up a set of steps.

It was near dark when he carried her out, and she recognized the far end of the garage. Brasa moved through and across to where they’d parked a few hours earlier. He eased her to stand so that he could open the door. The movement jarred her side, a grunt working its way out of her unwilling throat. She drew a breath and steadied herself.

Lilah looked over to the primary elevator, smoke seeping through the doors. She wondered how fast they could get the repairs in place, how many patrons had died, which staff she would never see again. The consequences of the attack were clear. Brasa would personally see to Benny’s end. It would be both vengeful and violent. She didn’t have the energy to sympathize with Benny, not when her legs shook beneath her weight.

Brasa hoisted her into the car, closing the door and moving around the back to the driver’s side. The engine turning over, the air kicking on, the familiar way the wheels rolled beneath the carriage. It was both normal and surreal.

Lilah was glad for the sunset, glad that the light was beginning to fade. Her head was still hurting, though it had dulled down. The low light let her keep her eyes open, let her focus on the landscape as it passed.

Not long after they left, Brasa’s phone rang. Lilah listened to him speak, worry building in her chest. Something had happened, possibly others were killed. He relayed the incident at the bar, relayed that Lilah was alive, though hurt. He relayed that he would see to her and then meet the other party later. Then, he hung up.

“What happened?”

Brasa’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, “Benny hit Jackknife’s as well.”

Somehow, she was both surprised and not surprised at the same time. It made perfect sense to hit both places at the same time, take out as many of their people as possible. He might have hoped, in the act, to have knocked down some of the major players. He almost succeeded with her.

Lilah gasped, “Was anyone hurt?”

“Richie was burned across his back, but the others are safe.”

Relieved, she asked, “Same technique?”

Brasa nodded, “In a liquor shipment.”

“Fuck,” Lilah breathed. “Fuck.”

He’d told her. Brasa had told her that Benny was going to resort to violence, that he would start making more aggressive moves. She was stunned at her own naivete. All along, she’d thought she knew how to plan, how to maneuver so that everyone got what they wanted. All along, she thought she knew what she was doing. Lilah had to finally admit to herself that she didn’t know shit.

“That is my feeling, as well,” Brasa murmured, taking the turn off the main highway.

“What are we going to do?”

He cast her a stern look, “You are going to rest. Javier is tracking him down. I will handle this.”

Lilah’s mouth thinned, “We can’t wait anymore. We have to close it. We have to stop this.”

“I know,” he said, one hand landing on her knee, “I will.”

Her chest tightened, her eyes watering again, emotions that she couldn’t describe pulling at her for her full attention. Lilah worked to calm her breath, one hand covering her eyes.

The car pulled to a stop, Brasa’s hands falling onto her shoulders, “Lilah, look at me.”

She shook her head, the tears coming faster. Emotions bubbled up, unchecked. She didn’t have any hope of keeping them inside.

“Please look at me.”

Reluctantly, Lilah lifted her gaze to him. His dark brows were drawn together, his mouth turned down in a frown.

“You’re alive, and I will ensure you are safe,” he told her in a soft, reassuring voice, “Your friends are safe. I will end this. I promise you.”

Blinking, tears touched her lashes, rolling down her cheeks and jaw, dropping to the hands folded in her lap. Brasa brushed them away, kissing her on the forehead.

He held her for a moment more, then leaned back to look her in the eyes, “It’ll be over soon.”

“I know,” she croaked.

Taking another second to check that she was, indeed, at a place where they could continue, Brasa released her and put the car back in drive.

When they reached the entrance, Brasa helped her out of the car, then picked her back up to carry her to the elevator. He held her all the way down and through the hall to their door. Gently, he eased her to standing, opened the door, then picked her back up, taking her directly to their bed.

With the greatest of care, he laid her down, taking off her shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans. Her clothes were shot through with her own blood, the fabric sticking. Every little hiss, every jerking moment, was noted. He watched her face for signs of further injury, hands barely grazing her skin as he revealed cut after cut, most of them on their way to healing.

Brasa continued removing clothing until she lay before him naked. He then went to the bathroom, returning with a bowl of water held between both hands, a towel over his arm. He cleaned her wounds, washing dirt and blood from her skin. Afterwards, he dressed her in an oversized shirt from her pajama drawer.

He let her rest against the pillows, hands pulling at the tails of his button up. He pulled free his cuffs, then worked down the long line at the center, tossing the shirt into the laundry. Turning from her, he worked at his belt, throwing it on a nearby chair, his slacks going the same way. Stepping into a soft pair of sleep pants, Brasa joined her on the bed, laying near enough that she could feel his body heat, but not touching her.

She turned her head to look at him, the hand by her face stretching out to touch two fingers to the skin just beneath his chin, “Thank you.”

The calm of his expression cracked open, his eyes flashing with something on the edges of grief, “I almost lost you, and you’re thanking me.” He sniffed, taking her hand, “I found you on the floor, bleeding. I felt your fear.”

She turned to her side, bringing his hand to her lips, kissing it, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, “This wasn’t you.”

“I know.”

She tamped back the urge to apologize again. His pain was playing out in front of her, emanating through the bond in a ragged, crawling ache. She could feel how much he cared for her, how scared he was to see her hurting amongst the chaos of the explosion.

“I’m okay,” she said, eventually. “I feel better already.”

That was the truth. Her injuries were healing, the pain still present but no longer so piercing that she couldn’t think. He’d done what was necessary to not only ensure her safety, but her comfort—a fact that had not escaped her notice.

Brasa nodded curtly, rising up a bit to kiss her. Another, slower kiss followed, touched with sweetness and relief. She took the kisses as eagerly as she ever had, glad both for his support and for the fact that she was still alive.

He pulled away, looking her over, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay.”

He sat up, turning to pull open the nightstand. When he faced her again, he was holding his preferred knife. Lilah looked from the blade to Brasa and back, confused.

“I know I said that I would do this slowly, but I am...desperate to see that you are strong enough to withstand whatever happens while I close the portal.”

Fortified. The word rang in her head, bouncing off memories that were tainted in amber and smoke.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she confirmed confidently.

Letting loose a held breath, Brasa set the blade aside and wiggled his hands beneath her, pulling her to sitting, and then astride his thighs, one arm circling her waist to help her balance. He’d held her like this over and over throughout their relationship, pulled securely into the comfort of his arms. Lilah felt more tears try to escape as she thought about how she might not have been able to do this again, how close she actually came to real death.

She had to shake herself free of the feeling, wanting to be strong for him. Bracing her hands on his biceps, Lilah relaxed her hips, all her weight resting on him. When he handed her the knife, she took it, looking to him for direction.

“You need to be able to do this, when I cannot,” he explained. “Cut deeply.”

Mouth open, Lilah regarded him with both shock and hot embarrassment. All the incidents where she’d needed to open a cut rushed by her, followed by the feeling of failure. She squeezed the knife, any further action aborted.

With practiced, easy movements, Brasa opened the blade, curling her fingers over the handle so that they fell into the grooves. Then, slowly, he set the sharp edge against the smooth skin of his chest.

“You can’t hurt me,” he murmured, his forehead touching her hairline, a physical support.

Lilah held still, her heart beating loudly in her ears, teeth tearing at the inside of her cheek. It took more willpower than she would ever care to admit to press the knife into him. She kept going until she felt the skin split apart. From either side of the blade, little beads of blood welled up. She looked up at him for signs of pain, finding none.

“Take,” he rasped, a hand at the back of her neck guiding her down.

Lifting the knife, Lilah followed the guidance of his hand, tongue sliding up the length of the cut, drawing the line of red into her mouth. She did it again, pulling back to swallow. Her fingers traced the mark as she watch it heal in real time.

“I heal quickly,” he drawled, as if it weren’t immediately obvious, “I need you to go deeper than that.”

Flushed and nervous, Lilah put the knife back to the same spot, allowing herself to push harder, past the point of the skin breaking, into the meat. He bled freely, if slowly. Lilah gathered it up, her mouth settling over the cut and sucking gingerly.

Brasa shivered under her mouth and hands, his chest expanding with an indrawn breath. She looked up at him, checking for signs of discomfort. He only nodded at her, taking her wrist and bringing the blade back to his skin.

The mark she’d made was no longer bleeding, though the area was raised and angry looking. She switched sides, cutting a longer line. This time, she’d gone deep enough that blood flowed heavily from the wound, dripping down over his stomach. Panicking, she pressed a hand over the cut, dropping the knife onto her thigh as she tried to gather the river of red onto the fingers of her other hand.

“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered, her voice reed thin.

Brasa laughed as he helped her clean the sticky mess across his chest and stomach. He drew her wet fingers into his mouth, tongue lapping at her palm and over her wrist. She swallowed, pushing back the first bloom of arousal in her belly. Her attempt was effectively thwarted when he tapped her lips with the pads of his first two fingers, sliding them into her mouth and over her tongue.

Lilah drew them deeper, sucking on them as she held his eyes, the warm brown already flooded through the whites with black. Behind the open seam of his lips, she could see the points of his fangs. With deliberate slowness, Brasa pulled the hand still on his chest away, giving it the same attention as he had the counterpart.

Skin tingling, Lilah watched him lick her clean, becoming more and more aware of the heat that seeped into her body where they touched, of how he burned against her.

Pushing the knife back into her hand, Brasa directed, “Again.”

The next cut marked a line from his massive shoulder down and over his collarbone. She tongued it, listening to him check a groan in the back of his throat. Beneath the thin fabric of his pants, she could see the outline of his erection, half hard.

Tempted as she was to touch him, the pleasure of watching him react to every cut, the feeling of her mouth on him, was more attractive. His hands massaged her sides, flexing over her body as if he were just barely overcoming the urge to pull her close. If she sucked hard on him, he’d emit a high, choked, moan, his eyes closing as he fought for control. Behind and underneath her, his legs shifted restlessly, sliding against the sheets.

The more she drank from him, the hotter he got, his breath coming in gasps and shudders. Lilah felt herself wondering how far he would let her go, how much he would let her take. The wounds on her body no longer ached in quite the same way, her fatigue fading similarly. Lilah could feel every drop of his blood working its way through her veins, overcoming injuries her human body couldn’t hope to repair so quickly.

She’d lost count of how many cuts she’d licked from him, most of the marks already healed. Brasa had started leaning into the blade, forcing her to push deeper. Blood had dried in some spots, in the creases of her hands and on the metal of the knife. Lilah looked him over, noting the glassiness of his eyes, the relaxed muscle in his frame.

He kissed her, tongue rolling along hers, his nose pressed into her cheek. Lilah held onto him, the rising tide of her arousal working its way past her defenses.

Pulling away, their foreheads touching, Brasa breathed hard. They remained like that, the air sizzling around them, until Lilah brought the knife up to lay against his neck, the point indenting but not puncturing the skin.

“Go on,” he urged, his eyes watching her intensely.

She pushed it in. Lilah had cut him deeper in other places, had opened him wider not minutes before. But, as she pulled the knife free and fixed her mouth over the wound, Brasa’s head fell back, a feral sound rumbling in his chest. She anchored herself with a hand behind his head, fingers tangled in his hair. Mouthful after mouthful passed her lips. She drank until she had to pull back for air.

He’d wrapped both arms around her waist, pulled her so that their chests were pressed together, her hips resting intimately in the cradle between his thighs. She couldn’t help but to rock against him in small circles, the friction of his pants against her folds tantalizing and delicious.

“Can you…?” He asked, body shaking as he held himself as still as possible.

It didn’t really matter to her whether or not she physically could, Lilah needed to be closer to him. She needed to have him inside her, feel the safety of being in his arms.

“Yes, yes,” she said airily, “Please.”

His weight shifted, and she knew he was going to put her on her back. Lilah stopped him, both hands on his chest, pushing him down. He went, his dark head landing on the pillow. She kissed him as she worked his pants down, freeing his erection. With one hand, she held him steady, balancing on his chest with the other. And then she was sinking down on him in one slow, unrelenting thrust that drew him in to the base.

Brasa pulled his lips between his teeth, strain at the corners of his eyes. The hands on her thighs squeezed, an entreaty to end the agony of delayed pleasure. She rose up, letting her body fall back down a few times, until she built up a rhythm. Her hips worked, his cock dragging against her walls as she tried to find the right angle.

Her slick dripped down between them, the sound obscene in the all too quiet room. Despite the fact that his blood was coursing through her, she felt her muscles begin to burn with the movements. Frustrated, Lilah rested her body against his chest with a defeated whine.

Arms coming up to hold her to him, Brasa kissed her, saying against her mouth, “Let me help you.”

Below her, his core flexed, broad ropes of muscle working to ease his cock in and out of her. He tilted her head to the side and bit into her neck. Lilah winced, her whole body tensing at the intrusion. He drank slowly, his teeth holding their place inside the bite.

The first tingle of venom ran along her arm to her fingers. Then, it moved down into her chest, before it burst outwards, exploding all over her body. He kept feeding it to her, kept pushing more and more of it into her veins. Lilah’s eyes rolled back as her arousal, already at a boil, overflowed the containment of her body.

She ground down on him, the movement catching her clit and scraping against the flushed lips of her folds. The firm bracket of his arms kept her from moving to freely, kept her focused on the way he intermittently hit her g spot.

“There,” he praised, licking at his bite languidly, “So good. So fucking good.”

Panting, Lilah buried her face into his neck, digging her nails into his shoulders. Little moaning gasps left her with each thrust, every time he filled her bringing new higher sensations. It rolled upwards, unstoppable, until she keened against him.

With a gratified rumble, Brasa palmed her ass, holding her in place as he fucked her harder, seeking his own release. He came on the tail end of her orgasm, meeting the slowing spasms of her body with a hard, circling grind.

Lilah might have passed out, she didn’t quite know. But, when she was able to focus again, she was laying atop Brasa, sweat cooling on her body, a little sore, and smiling.

“I need a shower,” she murmured, salt and dried blood dotting her skin.

“In a moment,” he replied, pushing her hair back from her face, “Let me get the feeling back in my legs.”

Lilah laughed, easing off him and to her side, “We’re gonna have to change the sheets.”

“Tomorrow.”

She had to agree with that. Anything more the absolutely necessary could wait.

From the floor, Brasa’s phone rang. He sighed heavily and rose, answering. Lilah watched his expression turn stormy, watched his eyes grow red in anger. He said a few words in Xibalban and hung up.

“What happened?”

He glanced at her, “They’ve lost track of him. I’ll have to hunt him down myself.”

The way he said it. The way he was already pulling out clean clothes told Lilah all she needed to know about his intent.

Lilah sat up slowly, “Be careful.”

There was no use in attempting to set him off track, not with the way his shoulders and jaw had set.

“I will.”

Brasa dressed, his hands and body covered in leather he hadn’t worn in days. She kissed him goodbye, her gaze following him through the bedroom door. When the front door clicked shut, she sagged against the pillows, drowsy.  Petulantly, she pushed to standing and showered. Pulling on one of Brasa’s shirts and a pair of underwear, she crawled back into the bed and let herself doze.

The smell of smoke awoke her. It billowed down the hall from the direction of the living room. Lilah rushed from the bed, choking as she found the end of the hall completely engulfed in flames. Without thought, Lilah turned and hauled ass to the door leading to the caves, thankful that he’d left it unlocked following their little game of hide and seek.

With quick feet that slammed against uneven stone, Lilah moved, trying to retrace the path to the hole in the ceiling.  It took four dead ends and the sudden fear that she’d gotten irreparably lost before she saw it.

Lilah crawled up the ramp, dragging herself through the opening and out into the dark of the desert. On her knees, she caught her breath, one hand on her chest.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought smoking you out of hiding would go, but I’ll take it.”

Lilah looked up, startled.

Benny.

[hockeylvr59]

Lost and Found || William Nylander

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Authors Note: Request was for #4 of the soulmate prompts. I loved the suggestions so much. I know it took me forever but hopefully, you see it and enjoy it. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,413

______________

“You have to get lost before you can be found.” 

Growing up you were in awe of the quote your parents had painted on your bedroom wall. When you were really little they told you that the quote applied to knowledge, to personal growth. It wasn’t until you were a teenager that you learned that it actually applied to finding your soulmate. You see, though no one knew how it worked, when someone lost something it was magically found by their soulmate. It only worked, however, when something was truly lost, you’d know because you’d tried to circumvent the system a time or two “losing” things like a piece of paper with your phone number on it or pictures of yourself. No...destiny seemed to know when you were trying to cheat the system and she wasn’t a fan. 

By your early twenties, you’d given up trying to rig the system and settled with waiting to meet your soulmate...hoping that it wouldn’t take too long. You’d known from the time you became a teenager that he existed, there was no question about it. You knew it because you were constantly finding random things. Ticket stubs, men’s socks, even once a jockstrap. The more things you found, the more you questioned just how scatterbrained your soulmate could be. Lately though, your finds have been less gross and more….green. It seemed like once a week that you were finding money lying on the ground, tucked between the couch cushions, in a jacket pocket. And while for the most part, they were small bills, you’d found hundreds more than once. 

The first time you’d found money you questioned what you should do with it. And for a while, you tucked it all in an envelope in your nightstand. But then the money kept coming and well it certainly seemed like your soulmate was well enough off and he was your soulmate so you found yourself spending some of it here and there grateful for the little boons in your life. 

Now it wasn’t like you hadn’t lost things yourself before. You’d lost money a few times yourself, earrings would fall out on occasion, and you were certain that your soulmate had a collection of ponytails and bobby pins a mountain high by now. But you’d never really lost anything important. 

So when you stepped outside of Scotiabank arena and reached into your pocket for your phone to find it missing, you panicked. Losing your phone was everyone’s worst nightmare and while you were someone comforted by the fact that your soulmate would likely find it rather than some stranger a part of you reminded yourself that your soulmate technically was a stranger. Thankfully you’d driven yourself to the game so you had both keys and a car because you couldn’t imagine being stranded in Toronto without a phone to order an Uber. Still, by the time you made it home you were in tears about the fact that you’d lost something so important. You didn’t fully understand the blessing it would turn out to be. 

~~~

Basking in the feeling of a hard-fought win and a goal, Will smiled his way through media before returning to his locker to change. Pulling his pants up over his hips he reached down to grab the fabric of his dress shirt and instead his fingers made contact with something hard. Looking down, he spotted a phone tucked into his pile of clothing….a phone that definitely hadn’t been there earlier. The first thing that came to mind was whether this was part of some prank by his teammates. But the phone case was a glittery leafs logo and when he picked it up and pressed the lock button a photo of a group of girls including the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen appeared. 

His heart stopped for a moment before it began racing, his brain finally establishing that this was something his soulmate had lost. For years he’d wondered what she was like and now he somehow knew that he was looking at her. As the sounds of his teammates filled his ears, Will quickly pocketed the phone, throwing the rest of his clothes on before heading out to his car. It was only once inside that he pulled the phone from his pocket, his finger hovering over the home button. 

To his surprise, the phone unlocked. 

Though he didn’t want to invade her privacy, William reasoned that he could only get the phone back to her if he did a little snooping. Deciding that opening her messages might give him a lead of who could get him in contact with her, he pressed the icon and the last active conversation opened. Inside was a string of sent pictures….pictures of him. 

Following the pictures was a received text: Fuck you’re so goddamn lucky. Damn chemistry for keeping me from being there right beside you. 

I know right? He looks so cute tonight. I might need you to revive me later when I recap the game for you. 

She had been there. She had watched him score, had taken pictures of him and he didn’t even know she was there. She was attracted to him and didn’t even know that he was her soulmate. It was almost cruel and unusual punishment when he had been waiting to find her for so long. Staring at the phone for a moment longer he ran his fingers through his hair before composing a message. 

Hey so uh...I’m your friend’s soulmate and she lost her phone at the Leafs game tonight and uh...I’d like to get it back to her. 

The moment the message sent Will started overthinking it. Of course, this was her soulmate, who else would have found her lost phone? And did he sound too creepy? Would her friend think he was crazy and refuse to help him? 

She’s been freaking out! Where did you find it? 

William really didn’t know how to answer that without admitting who he was so he decided to stay vague. 

Was between two articles of clothing when I went to change. 

That was totally both true and vague not saying where he was when he found it. 

So uh...she said to give you her address if you don’t mind dropping the phone off tonight? She’s kind of going crazy without it. 

Yeah, no problem. 

He would drive to Buffalo if it meant meeting her. The address came through quickly and after plugging it into his navigation, he pulled out of the parking garage. Driving through downtown, his palms began to sweat and by the time he stopped in front of the building his GPS directed him to, he honestly felt like he was going to pass out. 

With her phone gripped tightly in his hand, he stepped into the building and rode the elevator up to the proper floor. His body ran solely on autopilot until he was standing in front of her door, his fist raised to knock. 

Three short raps against the wood were going to change his life forever. William’s heart was in his throat as he waited for the door in front of him to open but once it did, he felt a wave of peace crash over him. 

“My phone. Thank god.” She proclaimed. Suddenly his eyes met hers and a breathy ‘no way’ fell from her lips. 

“I think this is yours.” He mumbled, offering the phone out to her. 

“You….you’re….” Suddenly feeling shy, Will nodded, his left hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

Taking the phone, Will watched as she slipped it into the pocket of the sweats she was wearing. Then suddenly she was stretching onto her toes and her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him down into a soft kiss. She tasted like heaven and Will dropped his arms to drape gently around her waist. Standing in her doorway they kissed until they both needed to breathe and when she pulled away the smile on her face was the best thing he’d ever seen. 

“Suddenly that crush makes a whole lot more sense.” She whispered, a sparkle in her eyes. A booming laugh filled Will’s chest making her smile even brighter if that was possible. Stepping back, she reached out a hand silently inviting him inside and Will eagerly accepted, ready to spend the rest of forever losing himself in her. 

[nitewrighter]

would you ever write a drabble for the MEKA squad? Happy holidays!

Tfw you really want to give Overlord they/them pronouns (because nonbinary characters aren’t just robots, Blizzard!!) but the Wiki is he/him, so you’re like “Okay he’s he/they.”

...this originally started out as a one-off gag and then mutated into this. Have fun.

------

It had been a long day of being slumped behind desks while government officials bickered through translators for the Meka squad. They were in Russia for what was supposed to be a “Joint Defense” conference discussing the applications of sharing Meka and Volskaya technology to better defend against the Gwishin and the Siberian Omnium, but communication had quickly broken down. Russia, it turned out, didn’t take too well to Korea granting citizenship to Omnics with only a handful of the EU restrictions (”and not even the UK restrictions!” one politician had blustered.) The Meka squad itself had been scoffed off as “celebrities” and “mascots” and so the day was ending with D.Va, D.Mon, and Casino standing around the hotel lobby. D.Va was scrolling through her phone next to a roaring fireplace while D.Mon stooped over her shoulder,  and Casino leaning against the hotel bar, examining some vodka in a shot glass and ready to pretend it definitely tasted like something other than burning to impress the cute bartender. The three of them perked up at the sound of the lobby elevator dinging and Casino knocked back his drink and suppressed a wince as a blue-clad figure waddled out of the elevator and into the lobby.

“Woah,” D.Mon blinked a few times as she and D.Va walked over.

“What--woah,” said Casino, still blinking a few times through the vodka still burning the back of his throat.

“What?!” muffled the waddling shape in blue.

“Is...uh... that really you under there, Seung-hwa?” D.Va tilted her head, trying to hold in snickers.

“I have a low cold tolerance,” Overlord’s voice was muffled through their scarf. He was a veritable sausage of a long puffer jacket, and apparently heavily layered even under that by the way his arms were spread away from his torso, and clumsily thudding around in heavy boots. A fur-lined trapper hat virtually swallowed their head and nearly all of their face was covered by a scarf.

“You’re T-Posing,” said D.Va.

“I’m not T-posing!” muffled Overlord indignantly

“...I wanna try something,” said Casino, stepping forward.

“Don’t be mean,” said D.Mon, furrowing her brow.

“I’m not,” said Casino.

“What are you doi--” Overlord started but Casino put his hands on the outsides of Overlord’s arms and pressed down, trying to push Overlord’s arms to the sides of their torso. Casino pulled his hands away and Overlord’s arms sprang back to their previous spread position. Casino snorted.

“Ooh! Let me try!” said D.Va, quickly walking up and pressing Overlord’s arms down to their side as well and letting them spring back into place.

“Okay that’s enough--” said D.Mon.

“We should get some selfies in--!” said D.Va.

“Can we just get going?!” said Overlord.

“Can you walk?” said Casino, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes I can walk,” said Overlord.

-----

“Waddled” was a closer word for it.

“...are they still behind us?” said D.Va as she, D.Mon and Casino walked down the sidewalk.

Casino gave a glance back to Overlord practically duckwalking, their arms bouncing slightly at their sides since it apparently took physical effort to move them from their positions in a normal walking manner.

“He’s still behind us,” said Casino, smirking slightly, “Kind of reminds you of those penguin documentaries, March of the Mek--” He got elbowed by D.Mon.

Admittedly as they walked through the streets, all three of them had flashes of jealousy towards Overlord for being so bundled up. Russia had a cold that sank deep past the skin and made them starkly aware of every injury they had ever received in the Meka program, feeling old fissures in bones. It was past Christmas but not yet New Year’s, and lights and decorations still hung on some buildings. The city was a hodgepodge between stately old pre-crisis buildings, more modern skyscrapers, and several massive industrial-looking defense bases armed with massive long-range anti-aircraft turrets. The massive Svyatogors stood sentry at the city’s borders, surveying the city and beyond it with a sort of lumbering casualness that made you believe they were simply fully living giants rather than piloted mechs. D.Va watched as one turned its head slowly.

“...kind of glad the deal fell through,” muttered Casino, following her line of sight, “Can you imagine those ugly things in Busan? Gross.”

“...I could see myself piloting one,” said D.Mon.

“You would,” said Casino.

It wasn’t too long of a walk from their hotel to the park, and King was waiting for them at the wrought iron gate marking its entrance. He was scrolling through his phone while backlit by the blue, white, green, and pink lights being diffracted through the massive ice sculptures dotting the park behind him. The park was noticeably more crowded than the streets, a mix of locals on dates and tourists admiring the ice sculptures.

“What took you guys--” King started but then glanced at Overlord plodding along behind them, “Nice coat.”

“Thanks,” muffled Overlord.

Despite the crowds, the Meka squad’s walk through the park was quiet, pausing to look at different ice sculptures, getting hot smoky tea with a hint of orange peel from a little kiosk. Aside from Casino, who was only wearing earmuffs over his sleeked-back white hair, the five of them pretty much blended into the crowd. The subject matter of the ice sculptures ranged from whimsical and natural forms such as narwhals and giant flowers with real petals and blossoms suspended frozen inside them, to more technically impressive architectural forms of famous buildings from around the world and reproductions of classical sculptures, to a large collection of propagandistic figures of Svyatogors, fresco reproductions of posters, and Omnic crisis heroes. D.Va paused to see a line had formed next to an ice sculpture of a heroically flexing Aleksandra Zaryanova, glowing in pink, with tourists and locals alike eagerly posing and flexing next to it.

“...maybe you’d get a statue if the deal hadn’t fallen through,” D.Mon spoke next to her.

D.Va huffed. “I don’t know if that’s what I want people to remember me for,” she said quietly.

“Mm, yeah saving the city multiple times is nothing compared to the rush of gaming tournaments,” D.Mon said teasingly.

“...gaming tournaments mean everyone’s safe,” said D.Va and the teasing expression on D.Mon’s face was wiped away. Wordlessly, D.Mon slipped her arm through the crook of D.Va’s elbow and pulled her close.

“I know they’re wrong, here,” D.Va went on, “I know the omnics who live in Busan aren’t like the Gwishin--they aren’t the same---but what if the Gwishin finds a way to control them, somehow? There was that incident in Giza...” she shook her head, “But then I feel like a big jerk for thinking that! Like that’s not fair!”

D.Mon just leaned her cheek on the top of D.Va’s head. “I wish I could say there’s an easy answer for it. Most of the time I just worry about flying and keeping the team alive and let everyone else sort that junk out.”

“...we saw how they sort it out,” muttered D.Va, “They don’t. One side wants to put them all in a trash compacter and the other side wants to treat them like people so it all gets broken down country by country, but no matter what we’re all scared. And--I remember being a kid--and my dad taking me down to the basement when the air sirens went off, and giving me his old Fujita-Via with his pirated Starcraft port, and his noise canceling headphones that were too big for me, but I could still feel the house shaking--”

“Hana--” D.Mon squeezed her arm slightly.

But if I kept playing... it felt further away,” said D.Va, “Playing used to make it feel further away.”

“...and now we play to keep them away,” said D.Mon, quietly, “...you’re not alone, you know,” she added.

“I know I’m not--” D.Va started.

“But you’re not the only one who’s gone through stuff like that--that’s literally why we’re all here,” said D.Mon.

D.Va blinked a few times. 

“I’ve been talking to Dae-hyun,” said D.Mon and D.Va gave an exasperated huff, but D.Mon pushed further, “He’s worried, too. That night when you overclocked your reactor---”

“I had it handled!” D.Va said quickly, before catching herself, “We--we had it handled. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without--”

“Without Dae-hyun,” said D.Mon, “And I know it’s different with him, there’s no stupid pro-gamer egos, he’s not in the field like we are---But... is it that unfair of me to ask you to trust us like you trust him?”

D.Va glanced down.

D.Mon pressed her lips against D.Va’s snowflake-flecked hair, more of a nuzzle than a kiss, before gently pulling her along to the next ice sculpture. “At least hang out with us more. We have pit crews, you don’t have to keep pulling late nights tweaking Tokki.”

“Yeah, but I’m--”

“Picky,” D.Mon smiled, smoothing snowflakes away from D.Va’s hair with a smirk, “I know.”

D.Va sighed and leaned against D.Mon, “...I’ll try,” she said, quietly, then thought for a second, “I’ll make it a New Year’s resolution! Hang out with you guys more! Get away from the garage...”

They were making their way to an art nouveau-looking sculpture of a woman holding a pouring out swirling water when their comms buzzed. D.mon pulled her comm from her pocket.

“Guys, we need to regroup,” Casino said on the other end.

“What’s going on?” said D.Mon, “Call from headquarters or--?”

“Casino lost Overlord and we accidentally kidnapped a small Russian lesbian,” King’s voice sounded flatly on the other line.

“You lost Overlord too!” Casino argued.

“What--” D.Mon stammered, “How did you--”

“Just meet us back at the narwhal,” said Casino, before clicking out of the call.

D.Va and D.Mon exchanged glances.

“We don’t have to--” D.Mon started.

“Yes we do,” said D.Va, squeezing D.Mon’s arm and dragging her through the crowd. The narwhal sculpture was back towards the front of the park, and the crowds made it slow going, but they were able to find Casino, King, and what looked like Overlord’s heavily-layered t-posing figure next to them.

“What do you mean you lost Overlord?” said D.Mon, “They’re right--”

The figure, with some effort given the thick layers of their clothes, took off their trapper hat to shake off a shaggy asymmetrical bob and pulled down their scarf to reveal a convex nose.

“Not Overlord,” said D.Va.

The girl with the shaggy bob said something in Russian and pointed at Casino.

“We got into a really dense crowd back at the svyatogor sculpture,” said King, “My audio translator app says she thought Casino was her girlfriend from behind.”

“It’s mistranslating ‘girlfriend,’” said Casino, flatly.

“It’s really not,” said King.

“...which means Overlord must be following someone he thought was Casino!” said D.Va.

“Stunning powers of deduction,” said King, adjusting his glasses.

“Well, where was the last place you saw your girlfriend before?” said Casino, looking at the girl.

King rapidly tapped something into his phone. “G’dyeh te pahsled--” he started reading before going, “Fuck it--” and hit a button on his comm. The phone fired off a phrase in Russian and the girl shrugged. She paused, then said something questioning in Russian and pointed at D.Va.

“Can you say that again?” said King holding his phone up to her.

The girl repeated her question more slowly and the phone translated the phrase, “Is that D.Va, from the holos?”

“...uh...” D.Mon seemed hesitant to reveal their identities after such comfortable anonymity but D.Va cut in.

“Yes, I’m D.Va, do you know where our friend is?” she said, and the phone translated for her.

The girl almost squealed but managed to control herself and cleared her throat. “Big fan,” she managed in thickly accented english, gesturing at herself.

“Look just text Overlord and we’ll get this mess cleared up,” said D.Mon, looking at King.

“We’ve been texting them. No answer. I don’t think they can feel the comm buzzing through that coat,” said Casino.

“Look, I’m sure he’s already figured it out and is on his way back to us,” said D.Mon, “Overlord pilots the most complex mech out of all of us, he can control the movements of 27 airborne mini-drones simultaneously, I’m pretty sure he would notice pretty quickly if he was following some Russian chick and not Casino.”

All of their phones buzzed at once and they flipped them open to see their groupchat.

0verl0rd: HELP.

0verl0rd: ON A TRAIN.

0verl0rd: RUSSIAN LADY WASN’T CASINO.

0verl0rd: DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING.

DeeVaaaaaa: WHY ARE YOU ON A TRAIN!? 

K1ng_Soo: Literally when did we say we would get on a train.

0verl0rd: I DON’T KNOW I WAS JUST ROLLING WITH IT.

0verl0rd: NOT CASINO LADY IS YELLING AT ME IN RUSSIAN NOW.

Casi_no: How did you not notice they were speaking Russian before?

0verl0rd: THIS HAT IS REALLY THICK AND IT WAS HARD ENOUGH KEEPING UP.

Yuna-Mon: Okay just stay calm and stay where you are.

Overlord: AGAIN I’M ON A TRAIN.

The Meka squad glanced up from the group chat and looked at Overlord’s thick-coat look-alike, whose phone suddenly buzzed. Through the thickness of her own coat it took her some effort to pull it out and answer it. They watched as she argued in Russian for several minutes, then turned to talking very quickly in Russian for another, minute, then laughing, then she gave a glance to the Meka squad, cupped a mittened hand over her mouth and spoke into the phone a bit more quietly and excitedly, before apparently reaching a satisfying conclusion, peppering in what sounded like a dozen pet names, and then ended the call. She gestured at King to hold his phone up to her and spoke Russian into his translator app.

“My Nadenka and your friend are heading to Vasily’s--our usual spot in Dumskaya,” the translator app’s automated voice made her easy tone sound much more halting, “You can pick him up there. Maybe grab drinks, yes? Big Meka fans! We love D.Va!”

King was apparently feverishly web-searching Dumskaya but D.Va said, “Great! Lead the way!”

The girl patted her mitten against her thick coat, “Uliana,” she said,

“...Hana,” said D.Va.

The girl made another high-pitched sound but caught herself, cleared her throat, and managed to get control of herself again. “Come on!” she said, waving them across the park. D.Va and Casino followed, but King and D.Mon hung back, slightly.

“Sounds like a recipe to wake up in a bathtub full of ice,” muttered King under his breath.

“I’m sure they don’t need ice with all this snow,” said D.Mon with a slight smirk. “It’s going to be fine.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Well I guess there will be a messy international incident concerning the ransoming and eventual brutal murders of Korea’s primary anti-Gwishin defense force, is that the conclusion you want me to jump to?” said D.Mon.

King opened his mouth, then furrowed his brow and readjusted his glasses.

“We grab Overlord and get out,” he said firmly.

“Mm-hmm,” D.Mon nodded her head.

-----

Vasily’s was a dive bar but it wasn’t a dive bar. It was warmly lit, had a handful of floral-patterned Slavic tchotchkes, some granny-chic doilies that suggested the place served lunch and tea, and a long garland of fake pine dotted with pink ornaments trailing along the wall. There was definitely a lived-in feeling to the place, but it was offset by an almost persnickety cleanliness. As King pushed the door open, he readjusted his glasses, finding the bar brighter than expected. It was virtually empty, but Overlord was sitting at the bar, having shed his thick coat with the trapper hat in his lap. He was apparently gesturing with several overturned shot glasses on the bar counter and talking to... Casino?

King gave a quick glance to Casino, who was still standing next to him, then glance back at Overlord and his bleach-blonde companion and snorted as she turned her head.

“She does look like you from behind,” he said to Casino.

“Shut up,” said Casino.

“Nadenka!” Uliana called out and then excitedly pointed at D.Va before unzipping her own thick puffer coat and hurrying over for a pecking cheek kiss from Nadenka.

“Sorry for mix-up, Meka Squad,” Nadenka looked over at the four of them.

“You speak english?” said King.

Nadenka made an ‘eeehhhh’ gesture with her hand, “Not very good,” she said with a shrug, and then elbowed Uliana, “Better than this one, though. She didn’t tell you?”

“Ah!” Uliana scoffed, “Hey!” She admonished her in Russian but Nadenka just gave her a smug smirk. 

“I was telling her about that amphibious gwishin mech back in the fall, remember that?” Overlord swung around on their barstool, eyes bright, “The crawler?”

“Yes, we all remember the crawler,” King said quickly, “Now, we should get back to the hotel, before you wander off after another random woman who looks like Casino from behind--”

“But I’m not finished yet!” said Overlord.

“Is true,” said Nadenka, “I want to hear rest of story. I think little blue guy should be D.Va, yeah?”

Uliana gasped as if her girlfriend had just spoken blasphemy, but Overlord just beamed smugly and D.Va snickered a little. 

“...we can stay for the story,” said D.Mon.

“What?” said King, “But--”

“And shots,” said Casino.

“Shots!?” King repeated.

“They got snacks, here?” said D.Va, “Kind of want something salty.”

“Hana--!” King was pressing his fingertips to his forehead but Uliana was already flagging down the exhausted looking bald bartender and feverishly talking to him in Russian. D.Va was able to make out the words ‘D.Va’ and ‘Meka Squad’ in her rapid rant. Within seconds shot glasses and little doily-skirted opened mason jars of pickles were being set out on the bar. “...this isn’t happening,” muttered King, but D.Mon just bumped her shoulder into him. 

“Come on,” she said, “Think of it as... ‘regional immersive research for the Meka program’s future collaborative efforts.’“

“...I’m writing all of you up to our CO,” said King flatly before Casino held out a filled shot glass to him and he sullenly took it. 

“Is this that glitz and glamour you guys are always heading off to?” said D.Va, pushing herself up onto a barstool. 

“It might be,” said D.Mon grinning and taking a barstool next to her, “If you came with us more often.”

“New year’s resolution,” said D.Va, crunching one of the bar pickles.

[chelsfic]

You’ll never break the chain - Donald Pierce x Tracker!Reader - Logan Fanfic

Boyd Holbrook Masterlist

Warnings: Unhealthy! Relationship! Dynamic! (This is fiction, please!), Power dynamic (captor/captive relationship), Stockholm Syndrome, Dark, What have I done?, Mentions smut, Angst!

Summary: Donnie returns to work after his medical leave and needs to do some damage control--which involves ignoring our tracker and making her feel bad--damnit!

A/N: I owe so much of everything I write to my engaged readers. You guys inspire me so much. @lackofhonor particularly inspired the scene where Donnie confronts Riley... And I *know* someone suggested the teleporting mutant to me and I can’t recall who it was!! Please let me know so I can give you credit!!

---

Donald leans back in the Land Rover’s passenger seat, watching the scene behind the windshield play out with seemingly bored, heavy-lidded eyes. He keeps his expression carefully schooled as Riley--your new handler--unlocks the back of the tactical van and pulls you out of the cage. The guy manhandles you, shoving you roughly and getting up in your face with his orders. He’s clearly chosen intimidation as his handling style and, well, Donnie can’t exactly fault him. Sure is a hell of a lot less complicated than the mess he’s made of things.

He feels DeWitt’s eyes on him from the driver’s seat, watchful...observant. Wondering if the boss is still soft for the mutant. Fuck. It’s been a month. A month since the injury. A month since you made your little scene on the roadside, clinging to his prone form as the Reavers tried to drag him back to the vehicles, raving and lashing out at anyone who tried to pull you away. They knew he was fucking you. They knew the boss had a soft spot for the little tracker. But none of the men knew the precise extent of things until that day. Hence the medical leave...the new handler...the distance. This is damage control.

He keeps his face inscrutable from behind tinted sunglasses, and he sees the moment your eyes land on him. He sees the recognition, the affection...the hope in your eyes. And he watches as it falters and wilts. Riley grabs your jaw, forcing you to face him as he spits words into your face. You’re trembling. How the fuck have they been managing to get anything out of you the last few weeks with these tactics?

Donnie isn’t perfect. He isn’t even a good man. But he tries more since meeting you...since keeping you. Riley, his...replacement, is another thing altogether. Donnie clenches his fists as he watches the man grab you by the arms and shake you when you don’t produce immediate results. How different are we, really, though? His mind drifts back to memories that send a sinking wave of shame to his heart.

---

You’re sitting cross-legged in the dust, head in your hands, straining against your exhausted powers in desperation. You can feel Donnie’s aggravation like a tangible thing, a suffocating weight on your chest, but it’s been hours of pursuit and you just can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry, Donnie.”

He growls in frustration, aiming a heavy-booted kick into the dirt at your feet that sends you scrambling backwards.

“Get up,” he hisses, his mouth twisting into an ugly grimace. You stand up, dusting the dirt from your pants and walking warily over to him. Without warning he grabs you by your ponytail, digging the fingers of his robotic hand into your hair and twisting painfully. 

He lowers his face to yours and you hear all the intensity of the contempt he feels for your kind dripping from his words, “This piece of shit injured one of my men. You been sendin’ us on a wild goddamn goose chase all day. What is this, mutie? You turnin’ on me?”

His hand twists harder in your hair and tears are streaming from your eyes as you shake your head, denying his words.

“Then. Do. Your fuckin’. Job.”

He releases you and watches you shake like a leaf. And inside, he feels nothing...nothing but rage.

In the end you successfully track the teleporting mutant clear across Texas to an abandoned cabin in the heart of a Louisiana swampland. Donnie and his men apprehend their exhausted quarry while you lay on your side in the back of the van, holding your aching head in your hands and keening with the pain. When Donnie sees the state you’re in he slides into the cage and gathers you into his lap. Now that the fury of the chase has passed he feels guilt creep in like a punch to the cut.

“Shhh, baby. You’re alright now. I got you. Donnie’s got you.”

---

When the asshole shoves you to the ground Donnie has finally had enough. He swings open the door to the Landrover and jumps out, stalking toward Riley with a feral grace that belies his still-healing ribs and the headache pulsing behind his eyes.

“Gimme your sidearm,” he snarls with an edge to his voice that brooks no argument.

Riley’s eyes widen but he reaches for the pistol on his hip, wordlessly handing over the gun. Donnie’s no fool. He knows that Riley’s been sneering behind his back and egging the other reavers on in their disrespect of him. It ends now. He takes the gun in his hands, pointedly refusing to turn his gaze in your direction. He can just see you in the corner of his eye, still lying in the dirt where Riley pushed you. Instead he trains his focus on the weapon in his hands, quickly and efficiently taking it apart and putting it back together as he speaks.

“As Riley, here, is well aware: mutants... are... our enemy,” he lets the words out in a slow drawl, locking eyes with every man around him in turn. “The enemy is powerful. Deadly. Not to be underestimated. If we falter--just once, just for a second--it could mean death. Now, I know some of you think I’ve gone soft on this little mutie--” 

He bends down and hauls you up to your feet, holding you with your back to his chest and pressing the gun’s muzzle to your temple. He feels your body instinctively leaning into his despite the danger and a splinter of some unthinkable emotion pierces his chest. He ignores it. He ignores the way your little hands wrap around his forearm; he ignores the way you try to pull your head away from the gun. He ignores you. Entirely.

“--What you fail to understand is that our little tracker is a tool just like this gun. If we keep it in working order, if we take care of it, if we understand how it works...it will operate effectively. If we neglect and abuse our tools they will fail.”

He lowers the gun from your head, gives you a reassuring squeeze with the arm wrapped around you, and then fires into the ground at Riley’s feet.

“Do you understand?” he asks with his voice pitched dangerously low.

“Yes, sir,” Riley responds automatically, but his eyes linger impudently on Donnie’s, his face set in fury. 

“Good,” Donald replies, dropping his grip from you like you’re some vile thing. He pushes you towards Riley and turns back to the Land Rover without a second glance, “Let’s find this fucker.”

---

Why did you think things would get better?

The question rattles through your brain as Riley frogmarches you through the underground parking garage. The sounds of car doors slamming echo off the concrete walls as the other reavers unload. You can’t help but crane your neck trying to catch another glimpse of Donnie. And there he is, running a hand through his perfect blond hair and studiously ignoring you. He looks good--healthy, rested. You ache to pull away from this brute and run into his arms. 

How many times have you imagined your reunion? He would come to your cell and make slow, deliberate love to you, his massive body dwarfing yours as he grinds you into the tiny mattress. Or he’d take you out on a mission and drag you behind the van while the others chase down your quarry. He’d push you to your knees and you’d be panting, salivating for it as he slowly presses his cock past your lips and down your throat. He’d run his fingers through your hair and call you a good girl as he fucks your mouth. Or he’d take you from behind up against the wall of the supply closet...or he’d use his hand to torture your cunt, edging you for an eternity before finally dipping his sweet lips between your legs and sending you over the top...or he’d simply kiss you with all of the love and passion he’s kept hidden from you all this time…��

Somehow you’d thought that after hearing him say the words, finally admitting his love, that things would change for the better. All this time you’ve been patiently awaiting the end of his medical leave--enduring the numbing boredom of your cell and Riley’s angry cruelty--believing that Donnie would come back and finally tell you that he wants to be with you. Really with you. That he’s come up with a plan to get you away somewhere. Somewhere safe. Somewhere without experiments and locking cell doors and punishments. Somewhere you can be together…But the cold indifference you saw in Donnie’s eyes today killed your last hope. He’ll never let you go. He’ll never change.

Riley drags you out of the garage, watching your eyes stay glued to Donnie’s form as he pulls you along.

Once he has you in the elevator he turns on you with a sneer, “Looks like you’re not daddy’s golden girl anymore, huh, mutie?”

Mutie. He says it like the vile slur that it is. But you recall all the times you’ve heard that same word fall from Donnie’s lips as something close to an endearment. My mutie. Little mutie. Good mutie. You feel a hollow ache in your stomach recalling how quickly he’d shoved you away before, like he couldn’t stand to touch you. He has to be faking this indifference. Because if he’s truly lost to you then what else is there?

Your feelings must show on your face because Riley laughs cruelly and uses his short, bulky frame to crowd you into the wall, his meaty hand groping your breasts as his breath rasps against your ear, “Don’t look so sad. I can be your new daddy.”

Note: I really agonized and struggled to write this one and, in the end, I’m just meh about it. I hope you liked it!!

Tags:

@nothing-but-a-comedy @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @theplumsoldier @meri47 @lackofhonor @sabinemorans 

I feel like I’m probably forgetting some people that asked to be tagged...

[frogocado]

Tension Intervention (Shayne Topp x Reader)

anonymous asked: Could you do a Shayne x reader where maybe they’re dating or fwb and they don’t tell their friends at the office yet cause they want to keep it lowkey, and the next day after they have hook up the games crew which you’re a part of is doing a video with the squad and while setting up they notice little things about both of you separately (like reader can’t sit properly, Shayne has scratches on his back, hickies) and they all slowly put it together? Sorry if that’s too specific xxx

I’ve been having a really rough couple of weeks and here’s some good old chaos office fluff that all of you have learned to expect from me because I need it so I don’t fall apart. This is a little over 2k words and has mentions of nsfw. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Shayne sighed against your shoulder, your hips finally falling away. You untangled from his arms, rolling your eyes as he looked at you in the dull light of the parking garage. He looked so damn smug in the warm yellow.

“This was your idea, dummy.” He laughed at your jest and you cut him off with a kiss, much preferring other noises come out of his mouth than that insane cackle in an echoing chamber of concrete. He dissolved from giggles into teasing kisses, pulling away each time so his breath could mix with yours. He called it “the in between-er” one day at your apartment, saying that it was a way for him to feel close to you without the true physical touch. It was nearly routine now, but each time, heat fluttered from your chest and into your stomach and you wondered if he knew how much you loved him.

Your watch buzzed and you glanced at the LED screen. “Shit,” you mumbled, collecting Shayne’s hands in yours to pull them away from your ass. “My call time is in fifteen minutes.”

You saw a glint of disappointment line his features and you smiled, thumb ghosting over his jaw. “Don’t look so sad, it makes you look like a kicked puppy.”

“Maybe I feel like one.” He grinned devilishly, pushing you back against the wall again. “C’mon, five more minutes and then I’ll walk you there.”

Although there was nothing you wanted more than to let your hips melt back against his, you shook your head, biting your lip. “We have to go, Shayne,” you encouraged gently. “If we don’t want to answer any questions about this, then it needs to be business as usual at work. You’ve already pushed it enough today,” you mumbled shyly as you recalled Chef Josh’s look of amusement upon seeing the two of you this morning.

Shayne was sitting on top of the counter as he playfully berated you about not making coffee fast enough. While there was nothing sexual about the encounter, the two of you knew the grumble and breathy whine you had gave him in return was far beyond anything coworker friends would execute. He had cleared his throat and a silence fell in the room, as if someone had ripped down a curtain. You and Shayne were frozen, stiff in place, like maybe Josh wouldn’t see you if you held your breath and didn’t blink. His features were calm as he hummed, getting his own cup of coffee and a bit of creamer from the fridge. As he put things away, he looked directly at Shayne. “Mythical has an early shoot this morning. You might not have as much time as you thought.” Without waiting for a response, he left.

“You’re right, I know,” Shayne sighed in response, hands falling away from you. “But I do love to push things in you.” He attempted to sneak another devilish look before you pushed his face away, heading back towards the office.

Matt was waiting as soon as you opened the door to the lobby. “I know you have something scheduled today, but Keith came down with a stomach virus and we really need someone else for a Try Not to Laugh.”

“I think it’s okay, but let me see if there’s any writer’s meetings or anything that I’m forgetting...” You stopped walking, pausing to check your schedule. The door behind you opened and closed a second time. Matt greeted Shayne with a note of confusion in his voice. “I thought you were upstairs already?” He asked. 

Your eyes glanced toward the blonde without lifting up your head. His eyes shifted from you and then back to Matt. “Yeah, I needed to uh... get my charger from my car,” Shayne said before rigidly entering the elevator.

Matt was still for a moment before he followed you to the stairwell. “He’s been so weird lately, have you noticed?” Matt asked you as the two of you took the stairs together.

“Nope,” you responded, pocketing your phone. The sooner you could get out of the conversation and play things off like normal the better. “I hadn’t noticed. My schedule is clear this afternoon, by the way.”

“Alright, good. I’ll let Ryan and Garrett know.” Matt held the door open for you and as you entered the office space, you heard him wonder to himself, “maybe Shayne’s on drugs.”

Your steps hesitated for a moment and wondered if anyone else had noticed the change before Ian called your name and you were whisked back into the working fray.

 Later, you found yourself perched on top of a stool, about to participate in your first Try not to Laugh session with Noah, Courtney, Olivia, and Shayne.

You winced as you adjusted on the stool. “You okay?” Garrett asked off camera as you involuntarily spit out your water.

“Yeah, I just… sat weird,” you replied. “I’m good.” From the monitor, you could see Shayne peeking at you from around the screen.

He nodded before prompting, “Alright, are we all set now?”

“Yes!” Courtney and Noah both called from behind the screened divider.

“Shayne, you go!”

You filled your mouth with water again and tried not to wiggle your position out of comfortable territory. You could hear your friends and coworkers trying to be quiet as they got their bits ready until--

“What the hell is that?” You heard Noah first, his voice edging the way it did when he was surprised and about to shriek.

“What?” Shayne returned the question, his voice moving to a coy innocence that you knew far too well.

Then, just as quickly, Courtney was yelling. “He’s got a hickey on his tummy!”

The water burst from your mouth before you could even think of a reaction. Your eyes went wide as the chiding continued behind the screen. All of the crew was laughing and your blush began to creep across your features as Garrett spoke up. “Y/N already lost. Who’s got somethin’ ready?”

Olivia’s small hand reached out and gave a thumbs up. All of the crew reset and, feeling like you were on the edge of passing out from panic, you filled your mouth with water once again. Silently, Olivia stepped into frame. She stood next to you and made eye contact with the camera for a long minute. Then, she turned to meet your eyes. The seriousness of the moment had lured you into a trance, following all of her movements precisely. She never broke into a smile, her eyes even and her mouth a straight line. Then, she spoke.

“Okay, I just wanna know. Was that the first time Shayne’s ever made you spit?”

Your eyes went wide and you made a small noise, the water once again escaping your lips. “Olivia, no!” Shayne was shouting behind the screen.

The entire set had dissolved into uncontrollable giggles as Olivia turned back to the camera, raising her arms. “No further questions, your honor.” She gave a pose as if she were a confident lawyer and then sauntered behind the screen once again.

“All of you are so unprofessional!” You gasped, holding your burning chest. Your eyebrows were pressed so high against your forehead you were scared that the next comment would have you keeled over and dead. You weren’t sure if it was the water, your sheer panic and embarrassment, or a deadly combination.

“Okay, okay, wait, please,” Shayne’s voice was loud and airing on manic. He walked out, staggering at first as the rest of the squad pushed him out from behind the screen. His face was as red as it was the first time you had told him you thought he looked beautiful naked.

To your horror, he was still shirtless and now that his collar bones were under the fluorescents and set lights, the devilish purple marks from the day before looked especially dark against his skin. You were used to seeing him in all sorts of light, but never so exposed while so well lit. Older bruises were visible as well, smaller patches of yellow on his throat and hips. He began to open his mouth to speak when Olivia and Courtney were shrieking. Neither of you had noticed your friends now inspecting the two of you. “Your back is so scratched dude!” Noah exclaimed.

Shayne closed his mouth before opening it again. No sound came out. Noah continued, “okay, I have two theories and both are very reasonable. Either Y/N and Shayne are fucking or Shayne has a demonic attachment.”

Even though everyone on set was damn near shrieking, there was somehow a perfect breach to pause for breath, as if the room was having its own in-betweener. “Both are correct, sir,” Shayne answered. All of your coworkers and friends were now shouting and, instinctively, you turned your head away from the sound to curl against Shayne’s chest.

“I literally don’t know if I’m more upset that this entire twenty-ish minute shoot is unusable or that you just dumbly exposed both of us to all of our coworkers,” you mumbled against his skin as his arms wrapped around you.

Olivia stepped in front of everyone, pointing towards a camera, carrying on her lawyer bit once again. “The jury finds these two guilty of being the two grossest people ever!”

“Alright, alright, it’s scrapped!” Matt rumbled, his voice carrying like a thunder cloud. As if it were a classroom listening to a teacher, everyone fell into softer and quieter giggles. “We’ll do a different shoot and the writers can go brainstorm somethin’ else!”

The squad and crew began to slowly leave the set, heading in separate directions. You, Shayne, Matt, and Garrett remained. Shayne began to open his mouth to speak, but Garrett’s voice found the air first. He spoke quietly and his eyes glinted like a proud parent. “We’re glad you two are happy but we also think it’s time to tell you that the parking garage downstairs has cameras and security wrote us a report.” Matt held up three sheets of paper, waving them in your direction.

Shayne made a noise that sounded like a sob and your hand smashed over your mouth as you gasped. “Oh my god,” your boyfriend whispered as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “Isn’t this the kind of thing an HR department should handle?”

“Probably, yes, but how else were we going to have a Tension Intervention?” Matt asked.

“Excuse me?” You asked. “A what?”

Garrett and Matt were both giggling now and Shayne was wandering to behind the screen to retrieve his shirt. He was mumbling as he went. “This is it, I guess. This is how I die. I’m going to have a fucking heart attack in this office and then I’ll be stuck here as a ghost forever.”

Matt was talking over him, “That’s what the Squad started to call it. We all sort of put it together. You guys disappear for lengths of time and when Shayne returns, his hair is somehow neater than before, as if someone were fixing it to not be so suspicious. Not to mention you always eye fuck each other whenever you think no one is looking. That was the biggest thing, really. And since we don’t have access to the court house anymore, we thought this would be the best way.” He and Garrett began to collect their things as you sat in stunned silence. “We’ll give you two a minute and then we’ll meet you at HR.”

They left and you sat still on the stool, staring into the cameras as if they were remaining eyes. You turned toward the screened divider and found Shayne, lying flat on his back, his t-shirt covering his face. His hands were pressed over his features, as if he were attempting to suffocate himself. “Hey, Shayne?” You offered gently.

“Yeah.”

“I really love you, dummy. Even though you called me a demon.”

His fingers collected the fabric and pulled it down. He sat up, giving you a soft smile in return. “I know. I really love you too.”

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Paparazzi Ambush

Part 16 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: Reporters ambush you outside of the hospital

Word Count: 2,225

“Babe, it means something if you’ve slept in his bed for the last week,” Jasmin was saying in your ear as you left the hospital.

You waved at one of your nurses when you passed her, waiting until you were out of earshot of everyone before replying. “It means he took your advice about cuddling very seriously. That’s it.”

She huffed. “I swear, he could kiss you and you’d think he was just being friendly.”

Okay, no one said anything about kissing. And there was a very good reason. Reason being that your heart wouldn’t calm the fuck down. “Cool theory, Jaz.”

“Not a theory. My aunt’s psychic abilities just transferred to me and I know things. He wants to kiss you. Trust me on this. But you’re so damn closed off to romance. Sweetie, if you’d just open up—”

“Cute how you’re thousands of miles away and think you know what’s happening over here.” Before stepping outside, you paused just long enough to shrug on your jacket. It was starting to get chilly, and you were especially susceptible to getting sick, due to your treatment. As a result, Seb constantly made you promise to take every single extra precaution you could to avoid that. “Anyway, I’m heading out of the hospital right now, so I’ll call you tomorrow. Enjoy your date tonight!”

“Third date, bitch. I’m gonna get me some, especially since you’re too stubborn to take a bite of that fine piece of—”

Before she could finish that thought, you hung up. You didn’t need any more of her matchmaking efforts clouding your mind. It was hard enough keeping your feelings in check without her voice bouncing around in your head.

You took a deep breath before walking out of the hospital. Sean was leaning against the car, waiting for you. Over the last five weeks, you’d gotten to know him pretty well. Which is why you knew something was up when his eyes flickered away from you once you were halfway to him and he pushed off his car, ready for action,

“Y/N Y/L/N!” The shock of a stranger calling your name froze you in your tracks and you turned just in time for a microphone to be shoved in your face.

“How do you respond to the allegations that you are responsible for your mother’s death?”

“How do you live with yourself for giving up your nephews?”

“Does Sebastian know you’re using him for his money?”

More microphones were grappling for best position as you were blinded by camera flashes.

It was like sleep paralysis: watching the demon at the foot of your bed but not being able to move. There was nothing you could do to stop this assault. Your biggest fear, at the moment, was coming to light in a very public way.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” You watched from underwater as Sean elbowed his way through the sudden crowd and tucked you under his arm. “Who the fuck do you think you are, accosting someone outside of a hospital?”

“America deserves to know the truth,” one reporter snarled.

Sean ignored them and manhandled you to the car, not stopping until you were safely in the backseat behind tinted windows. The rush of trying to get to a safe zone made an abrupt halt, and it was as if the entire world convalesced into the air between your feet. Your world seemed to spin as you stared at the carpet on the car floor.

“Fuck,” you muttered as he pulled away from the hospital.

Responsible for your mother’s death…

Using Sebastian for his money…

“You okay back there?”

For a long minute, you didn’t answer. Hell, he knew you weren’t. It was obvious. So obvious that you didn’t answer his question. Instead, you said, “I better call Seb. Give him a head’s up if he doesn’t know already.”

“You’re allowed to take a breath, you know?” Sean said. “I’ve driven a lot of people, and scenes like that are never easy. It’s okay to not be okay right now. Sebastian will understand if you take a minute before calling him.”

“We knew this was coming,” you said, flipping your phone over and over in your hand. “It’s not like it’s a surprise.”

“It is today. For you. Right now. Just because you knew it was coming didn’t mean you were prepared for it right now.”

Your eyebrows drew together as you regarded your friend. At your silence, he caught your eyes in the rearview. “Sean, are you, like, a psychologist?”

He laughed. “No, just married to one. I’ve picked things up over the last few years.”

“Your wife is one smart woman.”

“That she is.”

“Would she say I’m calm enough to call Seb now?”

He nodded, giving you a reassuring smile.

With that, you dialed Seb’s number, trying to remember what he was doing right now. Meeting with his agent? Is that what he said this morning before you left? Maybe skyping with his mom? He had mentioned something about his mom today.

And suddenly you were worried what she would think of everything that came out. You’d spoken with her a few times to assuage her worries regarding her son’s sudden marriage and she was so nice and understanding. God you hoped this didn’t—

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hey, uh, how’re you?” Your voice sounded so false, and you knew Seb would pick up on it. “How’s your day going?”

He paused before slowly asking, “What’s going on, sweetheart? You sound worried.”

“There were reporters. Outside the hospital.”

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said before reevaluating. “I mean, no. But Sean was there. He got me to the car and… and is now driving in the wrong direction? Sean?”

“Just driving around for a bit in case someone tries to follow you home.”

“He’s kidnapping me,” you relayed to Sebastian.

“As long as he gets you back before your treatment tomorrow,” Sebastian said, trying to sound casual, but you could hear the tension in his voice from your earlier revelation.

You, however, relayed a different message to Sean. “Seb says good riddance.”

“I’m putting up the privacy glass so you can’t use me to put off this conversation any longer.”

“Fuck you, Sean. You don’t know me.”

“What was that?” he raised his voice as the glass also raised. “I can’t hear you over the sound of your procrastination.”

The glass closed you off from Sean and you slumped back in the seat. “He’s ignoring me now. Put the glass up and everything. Totally cut me off. Some friend he is.”

“How are you, really? I know this is the last thing you wanted to happen.”

You sighed. “It was going to happen eventually. I knew that. And it sucks. I’m glad Sean was there. I, uh, I kinda froze.”

“Can’t blame you. Shit, I hoped they would draw a line, at least, at the hospital.”

“Yeah, well,” you scoffed. It was hard not to fall into your hole of self pity. Your first instinct was to say something like what in my life ever works out like that, but you somehow reigned yourself in. After all, your odds were all over the place lately. You couldn’t use a blanket statement of despondence for your life anymore. The last month sure had taken a turn for the better. Ever since you met Sebastian. “Hey Seb?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

“Will you be home when I get there?”

“I’m here now.”

“Okay. I, uh…” Your pinky slipped from the corner of your phone to your mouth and you bit at your fingernail. It took a second and a deep breath before you could admit, “I need a hug. So that’s good.”

“Have Sean drop you off in the garage by the elevator. I’ll be waiting.”

“Cool.” Cool? Who the hell responded to a hot guy saying I’ll be waiting for you with the word cool? An idiot: that’s who. “Anyway, I guess I should let you go so you can, I don’t know, call your PR team or whatever.”

“I can do that later. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Sean right now. His wife’s a psychologist so I’m sure he’ll enjoy psycho-analyzing me with all of his second hand psychology knowledge.”

“Okay.” You could tell he didn’t like it, but he accepted your decision anyway. “Promise me you won’t look anything up online yet, okay?”

“No, yeah, definitely. Unless you, Jasmin, or the hospital calls or texts, I won’t use my phone at all. I’ll just annoy Sean until he decides we’ve lost our imaginary tail and takes me home.”

“If you need me before then…”

“I’ll call. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. See you soon…” The way he trailed off felt like there was more he wanted to say. But after a moment of silence, you repeated the farewell and hung up.

After you took a moment to be by yourself, you tapped on the glass and Sean lowered it. He drove aimlessly for ten minutes more, then started taking pointed turns to get you home. Before you knew it, you were in the underground garage that was – thankfully – reporter free.

Sean parked the car and twisted around in his seat to look at you. “Tell Sebastian that, on days he’s not with you, I’ll make sure to walk you into the hospital and pick you up inside the hospital until things calm down.”

“He’ll appreciate that, thanks.” You went about gathering your purse and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I do too.”

“And, Y/N?” Sean waited until you looked up at him. “Whatever those reporters ask you, it’s all trash. I don’t know much about you, but I know you’re a damn good person and they’re just looking for some good clickbait. Don’t give it to them.”

“A psychologist and a media specialist,” you mused, a light smile on your face. “I’m learning so much about you today, Sean. And thank you. For everything you do. Seriously.”

He let the moment simmer warmly for a moment before jerking his head to your door. “Now get outta here. Your man’s over there looking anxious to see you.”

“He’s not really my man,” you muttered, opening your door. As soon as the door opened, Seb pushed off the wall and walked your way.

Sean called your name and you leaned down to peer into the car, only to be greeted by a teasing grin. “Keep telling yourself that lie if it helps. I’ve seen you two together.”

Sebastian wrapped his arm around your waist and leaned down to thank Sean before drawing you to the elevator. Once the doors are closed and the floor selected, he pulls you into his arms and leans back against the elevator wall. “You said you needed a hug.”

“Or two,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his heart. Standing this close to Sebastian made it nearly impossible to shove away Sean and Jasmin’s voices and opinions of your relationship with the man.

The soft whir of the elevator rising suddenly brought forward your memories of watching Grey’s Anatomy and a quiet giggle escaped your lips. A slight shift of his body prompted you to pull back just enough to look up at Sebastian’s questioning look.

“Sorry, it’s just… elevators. And emotions. Grey’s Anatomy. Ya’know.”

Understanding lights up his face before a spark ignites in his eyes. You were too focused on his eyes to notice his arms moving until he was gripping your hips. “If this were the elevator at Seattle Grace, I think we’d be more like…”

He used his hold on your hips to suddenly reverse your positions. The elevator was at your back, and he was caging you in, crowding your space.

You knew you should say something. Disrupt the suddenly heavy atmosphere that had descended. But his eyes were boring into yours, head leaning closer, tongue wetting his lips, and you couldn’t move. In a rare moment of honesty, you admitted to yourself that you didn’t want to move. Eyes closing, breaths drawing nearer, heart skipping…

Elevator stopping.

Doors opening.

Moment: ruined.

Sebastian groaned and turned to face the newcomer. His tee-shirt stretched across his back, tight across his muscles. As soon as your brain remembered it needed to work outside of the gutter, you realized that he was shielding you. Protecting you.

Not that it was necessary. A man entered, barking orders into a phone. It seemed as though he didn’t even register your presence.

Even as oblivious as he was, the presence of a stranger flung you back to the moment you heard your name outside the hospital. That fear. Their questions had unexpectedly reminded you of those days, years ago, when you’d felt so alone.

But you weren’t alone now.

To remind yourself, you slid your hands from where they were resting on Seb’s waist until your arms were wrapped around him, tugging him to lean back against you. The weight of his body on yours was grounding, as were his fingers tangling with yours. Neither of you said anything, instead, listening to the man yammer away about some business deal that was about to fall through.

Just before the elevator arrived at your floor, Sebastian brought one of your connected hands up to his lips and brushed a kiss across your knuckles.

Ahh!!! That almost kiss!!!! But now her past is starting to get out there for the world to see... that can’t be good...

CHAPTER 17: THE SURPRISE ILLNESS

[reidssmile]

s h o t || s.r.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

warnings: angst, mentions of being shot at 

word count: 1.8k 

summary: the reader is office bound due to a shattered tibia after a shoot out with an unsub and she’s getting frustrated with not being able to help in the field.

Fourteen days. Fourteen god forsaken days since you’d been shot in the leg. They’d only kept you in the hospital for a few days to check vitals, and Hotch made you take a few days of rest. Seven days. Seven days of not being able to be in the field, and it was killing you inside. To say having you desk bound sucked would be an understatement from the team, you were one of their best field agents so losing you, even just for a couple weeks, really put into perspective how important you were. 

The team could also tell that this was taking a greater toll on you, than you were letting on. You had become quiet, not being your normal, bright, sunshiny self and it worried them. Spencer, your dear Spencer, had been worried the most. You two had been dating for several months now and you confide in him for almost everything, so when you started to become withdrawn, he was amongst the first to notice. He also noticed small details, like the way you pulled your sweater over your hands-- a sign that you were feeling insecure. When he tried to confront you about it, you’d just responded with “Babe, I’m fine. You’re reading too much into it,” and then tapped him on the nose, something you did when indicating that you were done with a conversation. 

Just thinking about it made him frown. It’s not that he liked analysing you, but as the days dragged on with you seeming out of it, he just couldn’t help himself. He missed your smiles that seemed to light up a room, he missed your witty remarks when Derek teased you about him, he just all around missed you. Y/N Y/L. His light in the darkness. Spencer decided he’d try and cheer you up. 

“Hey.” He mumbled, leaning over you so that his hands were on your desk, looking at your computer with you. He kissed your temple, which caused you to flash a ghost of the smile that he knew. You sigh at the thought of not being in the field, not being able to protect that man that you love so much. It’s not so much you didn’t think he could protect himself, rather, you found comfort in the fact that you could help him and watch his back. You missed being his partner in crime fighting. “Hi.” You pushed out, trying to sound content, even through your sad thoughts. “So I was thinking…” He started and you turned your chair to face him. “Uh oh,” you teased, a playful smirk making its way onto your lips, making Spencer smile in return. “What if we go to lunch tomorrow, then maybe I could take you out to a nice dinner?” He asked the last part sheepishly. A real, genuine, sunshine-filled smile plastered itself onto your face. It felt good to feel sincere happiness, it felt even better because it was caused by the man you loved. It’d been a while since you and him have had a date, simply because work wouldn’t allow for it, cases popping up left and right. “I’d really like that, Spence.” You replied, nodding your head to confirm what you were saying was true. “Great,” is all he said before he planted a sweet kiss on your lips. 

←♣º•º•º♣→

You grabbed your crutches and stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Spencer had texted you last night about lunch, and the plan was to meet at the elevators at 2:00 and then head to both of your guys favorite cafe, which was just a few minute drive. You waited by the elevator for a few minutes and when you saw Spencer, a smile made its way onto your face. “Hey, baby,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss you. “All set?” he asked, scanning you over. You nod, and you and Spencer make your way to the car. Being in the car with him made you think about getting calls and riding with him to crime scenes, making you ache to be back in the field even more. You felt practically useless sitting at your desk filing paperwork about cases you weren’t even there for. It’s not like you could help Garcia, you weren’t nearly tech-savvy enough, and while Hotch offered to let you sit in on briefings and help, it just didn’t feel the same to you. The doctors said that the healing could take anywhere from three to six months and the fact that it had only been two weeks, was killing you inside. 

You were lost in thought, and don’t think an expert profiler like Spencer didn’t notice how quite you’d been, or the fact that there was a pained look in your eye, or the fact that there was a frown on your face and a soft sigh escaped your lips every once in a while. Even though it only took 10 minutes to get to the cafe, the ride felt like an eternity to him, especially with you not being talkative. It’s not like he didn’t try to talk to you, he did— but you would always just give dry responses or not notice he was talking. He decided not to push you to answer anything, so he just dropped it, though it did linger in his mind. He pulled into a parking spot close to the entrance of y/f/c. “Y/N/N, we’re here,” he said, when you showed no indication you were getting out. His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Now noticing your surroundings, you mumbled an “oh, thanks,” and got out of the car.

Once seated, Spencer decided he would try and make small talk while you both looked over the menu. “What were you thinking about in the car?” His question was bold and caught you off guard. Looking up from the menu, you stared at him with curious eyes. “It was nothing, Spence,” you reached across the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “I promise.” You tapped him on the nose. He sighed. “You’ve got to stop doing that,” he said, gaining a questioning look from you. “Doing what?” “The whole ‘not being truthful’ thing,” you took a sudden interest in the shrimp omelet, but he wasn't done, “the whole ‘acting like you’re alright’ thing, the whole ‘cutting off a conversation before we’ve actually talked about a topic’ thing. Y/N, we have to talk about it, we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen or that it’s not affecting you.” You felt like a kid being scolded by their mom for not doing the dishes, but you weren’t just going to sit there and take it.

 You bit your lip and opened your mouth, “Spencer, you are the one person who I thought would get it,” you chuckled sarcastically, “You have an IQ of 187, but you can’t seem to be smart enough to pick up on my so very fucking obvious frustration.” “I’m not following…” You laugh again, “Yes, I’m lying to you and the team about being alright, but do you want to know why? Because not only am I trying to convince you that I’m okay, I am trying to convince myself just as much! You don’t understand not being able to do anything, you don’t understand how absolutely unimportant I feel right now. I am out for six months, six fucking months, Spencer! It’s only been two weeks and I already feel like this, do you realize how absolutely miserable I’m going to be? I might as well just take off for a while, because then at least I’ll be at home and not sitting around at the office, doing nothing to contribute to a case. I am the BAU's least valuable asset right now, and at this point, I’m just in the way.” I finish my speal and Spencer’s staring at me like a deer in headlights. 

“Y-Y/N… I never knew you felt like that.” He stutters, he’s trying to find his words. You roll your eyes, “Obviously.” “Y/N I want you to know that you are important, whether you’re in the field or not, doesn’t matter. You’re still one of our most valuable profilers and we need you on cases. You don’t have to pretend to be okay for us, the team, I mean… it’s alright to not be at your best, we’re not going to judge you for it…” He trails off, trying to find more things to say. Go figure, the one time the genius needs his words the most, he can’t seem to find the right ones. 

“Being at my best is literally my job description, Spencer. Sure, maybe the team won’t care, but if word gets back to HR that I’m not 100%, I can kiss my badge goodbye. This isn’t just about being alright, it’s about my job and right now, I’m pretty fucking useless. God, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being useless!” You vent out, your frustration causing tears to prick your eyes. 

Spencer was shocked that you’d even say something like that. Sure, you didn’t seem super happy for the past couple weeks, but you never let on that you were feeling this bad. 

“Y/N L/N, you are not useless. I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself ever again, okay? Because you are the strongest, most amazing woman I know, hell-- I don’t know a single person who could plaster a smile on their face the way you do after getting shot. You are a lot of things, but you are most definitely not useless.”

 By the time he finished his speal, you were a sniffling mess. You grabbed his hands across the table and just held them in your own, leaning your head against them. “I love you,” you sniffed, “I love you so goddamn much, Spencer Reid.” He brought your hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “I love you so much.” He whispered in between knuckle kisses. 

It was such an intimate moment, but of course, all of those had to be ruined by a phone call. Spencer reluctantly answered it and sighed after a few seconds. “Be there in ten.” He said before he ended the call. “Case?” He nodded. Our waitress hadn’t even been around to get our drink order, so we just got up and left the diner. Once we were situated in the car, he grabbed your hand. 

You chuckled. “What’s so funny?” He questioned, smiling while keeping his eyes on the road. “We didn’t even eat, and somehow, I feel re-energized. I think getting all of that out really helped me. So, thank you, Spence.” You smiled over at him, the smile never left his face as the parked the car in the parking garage. “Anything for you.” 

[404gendernotfound]

Take Me Home Part 1 (Hybrid!Yoongi x Reader)

Summary: You found a white tiger - a really rare breed hybrid - in the backyard of your workplace hiding in a cardboard box from the outside world. Knowing that it would rain soon and the nights were getting colder you decided to take him home with you.

Contains:  some angst, fluff

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 3,0 K

A/N: I’m currently absolutely in love with hybrid au stories so I thought why not make a Yoongi hybrid au one shot.

Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

Today has been a busy day at the supermarket. Our supplier had just send us a big load of food this morning that had to be sorted into the different shelves around the shop. A lot of customers went shopping for groceries today since tomorrow was Sunday and the shops would all be closed. It was now after closing hours and I was organizing our stock. I said goodbye to the co-worker staying in with me as he took off to go home while I stayed to take out the trash and check everything again before going home myself. As I walked out the back I already heard something weird coming from the containers. I threw away the garbage and then looked to where I had heard the noises. Between the two containers stood a cardboard box that was slightly opened. It was rather big and as I was about to go back in I noticed it move. Just after that a tip of a tail was seen hanging out the box carelessly. Was there a cat inside? But the tail looked rather big compared to a cat ones. I stepped closer and cautiously grabbed the lid of the carton and slowly opened it to look inside. Just as I could looked inside I got hissed at. Wait? So there really was a cat inside. But that cat was really big. I took another look inside to realize that this was not a cat but a hybrid. He looked scared and kept hissing at me as I got closer again.

“Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know how you got here”, I spoke quietly so I wouldn’t scare him ever more.

He turned his head towards me and scooted closer to the back corner of the cardboard box. Now that I saw him better I understood why he was so afraid. The color of his fur and the shape of his ears revealed that he was a rare breed. His fur was black and white striped and it looked a bit dirty just like the rest of him. This poor white tiger must have stayed on the street for quite some time. I stepped back from the box. I needed to somehow gain his trust so I could lure him out of this box and get him somewhere warm and safe. You never knew what kind of people were lingering outside and would love to find such a rare breed and try to make money of him. I didn’t even want to think about what such people would do to him. I decided to search for something I could bring him like food or some new clothes. I walked back into the supermarket and searched through our stock. I still had some leftover bread from today that I would usually take home with me since we would have to toss it into the trash. I took some fruits and then looked through our clothes sections. The boy outside looked pretty slim build so I chose some smaller clothes. I took whatever I could find and left the corresponding money for the things in the cash box which I then locked in our safe. After I had found everything, I packed it into a plastic bag and walked back outside. The tiger was still sitting in the box as I arrived there. I dropped the bag in front of the box and stepped back a bit.

“I brought you something to eat and some clean clothes to wear. You should find some shelter for the night. It looks like it’s going to rain soon”, I whispered and watched the box move a bit.

I waited for some time to see if he would grab the bag and eat something. It took some time until he peaked over the box to see if I was still there. He looked around before he grabbed the bag and instantly disappeared into the box again. The arm he had extended to take the bag had some bruises and cuts on it. Seemed like this hybrid already had a hard time on the street. I stepped closer again to see that he was happily munching on the bread and fruits I had chosen for him. Now that I could take a better look at him I saw that not only his arms were hurt but he had some cuts along his neck and cheeks too.

“You are hurt. Someone should look at your wounds. They might be infected”, I said quietly and saw him suddenly look at me.

“No. Please don’t”, he pleaded, his soft voice instantly touching my heart.

“Then at least let me get you somewhere safe. You shouldn’t stay here”

“No. I will stay here”

He looked at me with fear in his eyes. Something must have happened to him that he insisted on staying here. I crouched down and scooted closer to the box. He seemed curious too since he scooted closer towards me so that just the cardboard box was separating us. He sniffed the air and looked at me with his curious eyes. He still didn’t seem to trust me in any way but at least I was making some progress with him. A shelter didn’t seem like a good idea since he might have had bad experiences with that. Letting him stay here was even worse since the nights where getting colder and I didn’t really want a hybrid to freeze to death in the backyard of my workplace. The only other option was taking him home with me but I was sure that he would refuse. Well, I should at least try my luck.

“I know somewhere warm and safe where you could stay for some time if you’d like. My home is not really big but I have a guest room that you could have for yourself”, I suggested and saw his eyes open wide.

I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about if I was suspicious or if he was just thoroughly thinking about accepting or rejecting my offer. He then stood up and grabbed the plastic bag. Now that he was standing in front of me I just realized how tall he was. He was a bit taller than me but didn’t really look intimidating because of his small and thin body.

“Just because I’m coming with you doesn’t mean I trust you. I’ll watch you, human”, he said with a serious look and stepped out of the box.

“Understood. Now come with me. I’ll still have to close the store but then we can get you home.”

“Whatever”

That boy had an attitude. We walked into the backdoor, I locked it and then walked to the lockers to grab my stuff. The tiger followed me like a lost puppy. He offered to help we with my stuff as we walked to the front of the supermarket. We walked outside and locked the front door. I then walked to the parking lot, the tiger following me quickly. I took out my car keys and opened the trunk of the car. We stored my stuff there before closing it again. I walked to the driver seat and watched the tiger take his seat in the back of the car. As I sat down I turned around to look at him.

“You can sit in the front if you’d like”, I said and saw his head tilt to the side surprised.

He looked at me with confusion written all over his face before he left the car again and took his seat beside me. I smiled at his behavior and waited for him to put on his seatbelt before I turned on the engine and drove us home. Arriving at the garage I parked the car and then stepped out. I fetched the stuff from the trunk and waited for the hybrid to leave the car. After he walked over to me, I locked the car and walked towards the elevator. He followed me and stood next to me in the little cabin. I pressed the button to the third floor and watched the doors close. As we arrived on our floor we walked to the apartment and I opened the door.

“Go on. It’s a little messy but it’s warm.”, I said as he still stood at the door even thought it was open.

He walked in looking at his surrounding carefully. We took off our shoes and I went to stand at the side of the corridor watching him while he wandered around. He walked around the apartment and took in everything with big eyes. As he arrived at the guest room I joined him.

“I hope this room is ok for you. It’s usually empty since I don’t have many guests over. If you need anything you can just tell me. I’ll try to make it as comfortable for you as possible.”, I explained as he walked around the room.

“It’s fine”, he said and then came back to stand next to me.

“Do you want to take a shower? I can show you where the bathroom is”

The hybrid nodded and then followed me to the just mentioned room. I gave him a towel and some other showering utensils and then left him alone. In the meantime, I changed into something comfortable and took a seat on the couch in the living room to watch TV. It took some time before I heard the door to the bathroom open and saw him walk into the living room in the clothes I bought him from the supermarket and still wet hair.

“You should dry your hair. I don’t want you to get sick”, I said as he sat down next to me.

“Too lazy”, he answered and leaned back.

I rolled my eyes and walked to the bathroom to get a towel so I could at least dry his hair a bit if he let me. As I came back he looked annoyed as he saw the towel in my hands.

“I’ll leave you alone if you let me dry your hair. Is that a deal?”, I asked and sat down on the couch.

“Fine”, he mumbled and sat down on the floor in front of me.

I cautiously began to dry his hair. I had to make sure that I wouldn’t accidently hurt his sensitive ears so I tried to avoid them most of the time. After I was done I put the towel down and tapped his shoulder.

“I’m done. You can go and do whatever you like. If you need anything you can find me in my room”

I stood up from my position and left the living room. On my way back to my bedroom I stopped in the bath to hang the towel so it could dry. I then walked to my room and sat down on my bed. After scrolling through any social media app I could find on my phone, I grabbed my headphones and laid down. I put on some of my favorite music and turned off the lights. I loved to listen to music before I go to sleep. It always makes me calm and sleepy after some time. As I was about to put my phone and headphones away I noticed the door open slightly. I sat back up and turned on the light. A sleepy white tiger looked at me with his pillow in his arms.

“What’s wrong?”, I asked concerned.

“I can’t sleep”, he mumbled looking down at his feet.

As he looked up, a smile formed on my lips and he began to speak again.

“Don’t say a word. Just because I came to sleep here doesn’t mean that I accept you”, he said and closed the door behind him before he walked towards the bed.

His words somehow hurt me a bit. I decided to take him in and he was still this ungrateful.

“Understood. The same goes for me. Just because I let you stay in my apartment doesn’t mean that I care about you.”

I could have sworn that I saw him sulk for a second as these words left my lips. He climbed onto the bed and laid down next to me, but far enough so there would still be space between us. I somehow noticed that he seemed a bit sad after what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine.

“I’m just kidding. I took you in since you looked hurt, exhausted and scared. I couldn’t let a hybrid, that looks like he suffered a lot, stay out there in the cold. I would feel terrible.”

After he didn’t react, I continued my monologue.

“You know…I could have just left you there, but I didn’t. I’m not asking you to thank me a thousand times or that you accept me right away and I understand if you don’t feel like talking a lot but knowing at least your name would probably make this a lot less awkward for the both of us.”

“Yoongi”, he whispered.

“What?”

“My name is Yoongi”, he said this time a bit louder and turned around so he could look at me.

“I’m Y/N. I hope we can get along in the future”, I introduced myself and smiled at him.

He tried to smile back but it looked a bit forced. Yoongi then yawned and I turned off the light and laid down.

“You should sleep now. Tomorrow is another day. We can get to know each other better then”, I said and turned so I was laying with my face towards him.

I noticed him moving around after some time. I opened my eyes and watched as he slowly scooted closer until he was laying directly in front of me. He noticed that I was still awake.

“Just because I-“

“I know. Just because you want to cuddle doesn’t mean that you accept me”, I finished his sentence and was surprised as he shook his head.

“No. I actually wanted to say just because I don’t know if I can fully trust you yet doesn’t mean that I don’t want to cuddle”, he said and I noticed a slight shimmer of pink on his cheeks as the moonlight shone onto his face.

“Oh”

I was surprised by his honest answer. I didn’t know that he would answer this directly. He kept looking at me as if he was waiting for something. I slowly understood what he wanted.

“Come here”, I whispered and opened my arms for him.

Yoongis eyes lit up. He scooted as close as possible and shyly wrapped his arms around my waist. I pulled him into my arms and wrapped them cautiously around his body.

“Is this comfortable for you?”, I asked and looked at the blushing tiger in my arms.

“Yes”, he whispered and hid his face in the crook of my neck.

I smiled at his behavior. I felt his tail flicking around excitedly under the blanket and giggled quietly. It was cute how he tried to play the tough one on the outside when he seemed to be a softy on the inside.

“Good night, Yoongi”, I whispered unsure if he was already sleeping.

As I received no answer I knew he fell asleep already.

“Sleep tight my little tiger”

I closed my eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep. It wasn’t even 2 hours later when I woke up again. Yoongi was whimpering quietly and held me tight. I turned my head to look at him just to see that he was still sleeping. I reached out to pet his head trying to calm him down a bit without waking him up. His whimpering continued and I decided to wake him from his nightmare. I softly shook him by his shoulder.

“Wake up”, I said loud enough so it should wake him.

He woke from his dream, panting and trying to get out of my grip. Yoongi seemed to be a bit disorientated right now so I kept him in place.

“Calm down, it’s just me. You’re safe here”, I whispered and softly pet his head.

He looked at me and I noticed his breath steadying again. Yoongi calmed down and quietly began to purr. Seeing him relax again made my worry fade away quickly and was replaced by pure adoration for this boy. He pressed his head against my hand and encouraged me to pet him more.

“Are you ok?”, I asked after some time.

“I’m ok. Thank you”, he whispered smiling at me.

His slightly sleepy smile was beautiful. He looked like a cute little muffin. My gaze wandered to his cute nose and I couldn’t help myself from poking it. Yoongi looked at me with puppy eyes and a bit confused.

“Don’t look at me like that”, I said and his face turned sad.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled.

“No no no. I didn’t mean it like that. You look really cute with that look on your face”

His cheeks blushed and he hid his face again.

“Stop saying that”, he whined and pulled on my shirt like a stubborn child.

“Ok. Whatever you say, cutie”, I teased and received a hit against my shoulder.

I just laughed and pulled him closer. He tightened his grip around my waist and used me as his bodypillow for the rest of the night.

Next Part

[wordsfromthesol]

Neighbors (2/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: After a late night you realize you left your keys at work. You’ve heard your new neighbor frequently come in late at night, so you decide to try and see if he can help. Warnings: Language (per usual), blood & violence Word Count: 1.6k A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot...oh well. Part One   Part Three

A week, nearly to the hour, had gone by without seeing Dick again when you heard a knock at the door. Still in bed, after another late-night surgery, you groaned as you pushed up from the bed and made your way to the door. You rubbed your eyes as you opened the door, realizing you probably should have checked through the peep hole before doing so. Before you knew what was happening, Dick Grayson sauntered into your apartment and sat on the couch.

“Sorry, did I wake you, doc?”

“Hmm…it’s fine. I got called in for a surgery late last night.”

“Seems to be a regular occurrence. Isn’t that how the key debacle happened?”

You nodded as you made your way to the bathroom to fetch your medical kit once again. You sat down and started working on the stitches.

“Being on-call at Gotham General pretty much means your working, it’s just a matter of when.” You continued to rant, half unaware in your sleep deprived state, “Between the vigilantes, crime lords, and run-of-the-mill thugs we get our fair share of work…at least it’s gone down a bit since Red Hood stopped shooting people. Bullets are never fun to deal with, and you have the shrapnel. Though the vigilantes stopping definitely doesn’t mean the criminals are…” you had finished with the stitches but couldn’t stop your mouth. You leaned back into the couch, eyes half closed as you continued, “I honestly don’t get how those guys do it. I mean, the bad guys don’t hesitate to kill…and then you have the outfits. I mean is spandex really comfortable? Why do so many vigilantes wear spandex –” your voiced faded as you drifted back into sleep.

Dick looked over at you with a faint smile on his face. Taking you in his arms, he walked you into the bedroom and placed you gently on the bed before covering you with the blankets you had haphazardly tossed aside earlier that morning. Dick probably stared at you, fast asleep, for a little too long before he made his way to the door, though he realized there was no way to lock it before leaving, and he felt weird about leaving via fire escape. He walked next door to grab his computer before coming back and setting up at her dining room table. “Might as well get some work done…” he mumbled to himself, walking over to make some coffee.

*****

You woke up a few hours later, dazed and confused. When did I go back to bed? Did I dream taking out Dick’s stitches? You walked out of your room, hand running through your hair when you jumped at the sight of Dick Grayson sitting at your dining room table with a cup of coffee.

“Making yourself at home, are we?”

“Oh, well you fell asleep…and there was no easy way to lock the door if I left…so I figured I’d just wait.”

“Because that’s not weird at all.” You walked over and poured your own mug of coffee before joining him at the table. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

“Missing persons case”

“Hmm, how long have they been missing?”

“Almost 48 hours”

“You think they still have a chance?” He looked up at you with curiosity spread across his features. “Don’t look at me like that, I deal with death and tragedy every day. Plus it’s not like I even know the person’s name.”

Dick turned his computer towards you, revealing a picture of a young girl, about twelves years in age. He watched as your eyes grew wide, “Got some sympathy now, doc?”

“It’s not that…I know her. Well not really know her, but she was in the hospital last night.” You took a sip of your coffee, “She was stable when I left the emergency room, whoever had her really did a number. Not sure how she got out alive.”

“Y/N, who brought her in?”

You shook your head, “I wasn’t there, got called in to help patch her up. I think…yeah Jackie was working.” You glanced at your watch, “She’s probably asleep now, I’ll text her to give me a call once she wakes up. The girl is probably still at the ER though.”

“I’m going to head there,” Dick closed his laptop and got up from the table before he paused, “You wouldn’t want to go with me, would you?”

“Sure, let me get dressed.” You walked back to your bedroom and threw on some jeans and threw on a random t-shirt before walking back to the living room. A smirk ran across Dick’s face. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, I just…I like your shirt.” You looked down an realized it was a black shirt with Nightwing’s symbol outlined in brilliant blue; though lots of people worn vigilante themed shirts, so you weren’t quite sure why this one made his face look like that.

You slipped on your tennis shoes by the door and grabbed your jacket off the hook. “Well, off we go. Your car or mine?” That smug look still hadn’t left his face when he answered.

“Mine.”

You took the elevator downstairs and stopped short as he approached a motorcycle.

“Seriously? No warning or anything Grayson?”

“What, you scared?” He chuckled as he tossed you the helmet.

“No, but don’t you need a helmet too? Maybe that’s why you’re so banged up.” You poked his chest as you climbed behind him on the bike.

“Somehow I think a helmet is the least of my worries. Hold on tight.” You didn’t want to admit that you had never been on a motorcycle before, but your death grip around his waist probably gave that away.

You didn’t realize that you had your eyes plastered shut through most of the ride, Dick however, did.

“Y/N, you know we’ve stopped right.”

You opened your eyes to realize that you were in the hospital parking garage. “Oh..uhm..yeah, just, ya’know making sure.” You tried to be nonchalant, but Dick saw right through you yet again.

“Right, well. We’ve stopped, I think you can loosen your grip a bit. Maybe we can go check on that missing girl.”

“Oh yeah, right.” You retracted your arms from his waist and swung your leg over the bike, while you took off the helmet. You realized you probably should’ve only done one at a time because you felt yourself beginning to fall off said bike, yet somehow you never hit the hard concrete. You pulled the helmet off and noticed Dick twisted around on the bike with his arm under your waist.

“Guess I should’ve waited to take off the helmet.” You chuckled, realizing Dick seemed frozen in that position, and realizing yet again there was nothing you could do to help get yourself out of that position. “Uhm…you getting in an arm workout, or are you going to help me out here?” Your question snapping Dick out of his fog.

“Oh right, sorry.” He pushed up against your back, allowing you to stand up.

“I think she was transferred to room 426 just as I was leaving last night…er…this morning.” You motioned for him to follow you inside, where you went directly to reception.

“Dr. Y/L/N, I didn’t think you were in today.”

“Quit with the formalities Caden, I’m not working. Just helping out a friend with Bludhaven PD. That girl that came in last night, what room is she in?”

“The Jane Doe?”

“Yeah.”

“Room 426.”

“Thought so, thanks Caden!” You called out as you headed towards the elevators, Dick following you like a lost puppy.

“So what do you know about the girl?”

“Hm…oh, she’s the daughter of some big-time financial advisor.”

“That’s it, she was tortured because of that? Come on Dick, even I know that’s bullshit.” The elevator doors opened, but Dick didn’t answer until the two of you were behind it’s closed doors.

“Alright,” he whispered barely moving his lips, “we are pretty sure her dad fixes the books for some pretty powerful mob bosses. And one of those books showed up at BPD two days ago, mere hours before his kid –” Dick stopped short as the elevator door opened at the fourth floor.

You exited the elevator and headed straight for room 426. “She’s still unconscious.”

“Yeah, but that’s definitely her.”

Your phone began to ring, you quickly answered when you saw Jackie’s name come across the screen. “Jackie, question for you about that Jane Doe from last night…yeah, that one…who brought her in?...Oh, alright…no that’s it…get some sleep girl.” You turned to Dick, “So a vigilante brought her in, that uhm, Red Hood guy.” You watched as Dick’s entire body tensed. “What, not a fan?”

“It’s not that…” Suddenly he grabbed your shoulder and pushed you to the ground, pointing at two large men in the hallway. You motioned to the girl and he nodded while putting up his hand for you to stay put. Dick crept towards the door, waiting for the assailants to enter the room. As the first one entered, he brought his arm down on the back of his head. The man collapsed in the doorway and Dick charged at the other. He shoved the heel of his hand at the man’s chest and then sunk to the ground kicking the man’s feet from under him. The second assailant fell backwards to floor. Dick walked back into the hospital room and turned towards you.

“Got any zip ties around here? I didn’t exactly bring my handcuffs…”

Still stunned by the events, you slowly rose from the ground and weaved your way around the unconscious men heading for the supply closet. You entered in your code and pulled zip ties out, handing them to Dick.

“Thanks doc. I’m going to call BPD, keep an eye on these guys for me.” All you could do was nod as he sauntered down the hallway.

[scullyfemme]

Timing -- Ch. 1

Au where Mulder is more insistent on confessing to Scully in Triangle (6.03)

Scully's reaction to his resolute "I love you" is far from what he'd expected. Shock and questioning, yes. But "Oh brother?" Did she not believe him? Maybe he should try again.

I have no idea how many chapters this will be, but I’ll be posting them all on here as well as on Ao3 (link below) because i know tumblr can be a little weird to use for reading multi-part stuff

Rating: M | tagging @today-in-fic | Read it on Ao3 | Next Chapter ->

---

"I love you."

"Oh, brother."

Mulder’s heart sank at that. Was that really her reaction? Surely he hadn’t been misreading things between them. Did she just not believe him?

He reached out and managed to snag her hand before she could escape. He looked up at her with pleading eyes, hoping she'd somehow misunderstood, that she wasn't just rejecting him.

"I mean it, Scully.”

Her expression changed, then. From humored dismissal to something akin to fear. Panic. "Mulder," She stammered. "You're- You're not serious. You just went through...well, an ordeal and you're high on painkillers right now." She explained away his confession, rationalizing it. And he couldn't help but be endeared to her for it despite the frustration it brought.

He tightened his grip on her hand and swiped his thumb across the back of it. "Scully-"

"I don't want you saying anything you'll regret," She interrupted, her voice softer now.

He understood where she was coming from. If the shoe were on the other foot, he'd probably say the same thing to her. But he wasn't going to regret this. Well, it depended on her reaction (her real reaction), but he certainly wasn't going to regret this because of his condition.

"Scully, I..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say. He wanted to tell her about his kiss with 1939 Scully. Whether or not it had really happened, it had felt so real. And he wanted a repeat with present-day Scully. But he had a feeling that if he brought that up, she'd use it as more reason to dismiss his confession, seeing as she thought he'd dreamt the whole thing up.

"Mulder," She shook her head, and he realized that she looked trapped. She wanted to escape. Had he pinned her into a corner? He hadn't meant to. "Look, we can talk about this later, okay?" She glanced towards the door, and he knew he wouldn't get anything more from her. Not now.

"Okay," He murmured, letting go of her hand. He was disappointed. He didn't know what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Now free, she angled her body towards the door, then turned back, looking like she wanted to say something. She seemed to decide against it, though, and headed towards the door.

"I'll see you later, okay?" She said over her shoulder. She didn't wait for an answer as she slipped through the door and left, moving too fast to be casual.

He supposed he couldn't blame her. It had been sudden, after all. One second everyone was playfully berating him for his foolhardiness, the next he was confessing to her. It wasn't how he expected it to happen, either. But he had to do it in that moment. 1939 Scully had saved the world, but present-day Scully had saved his world. Time and time again.

And maybe the drugs had influenced his decision, but it still felt like the right one to make.

We'll talk about this later, she had said. Knowing Scully, she was hoping later would never come. She was hoping he'd forget about the whole thing, write it off as drug-induced. That when he was fully healed and fully sober, he'd realize it was a mistake.

But he was determined not to let that happen. Maybe the timing wasn't right, but when would the timing ever be right with them? Ever since that night in his hallway, he was thinking less and less that there would ever be a perfect moment for this.

He sighed and started to lean back down to his pillow, but stopped when he registered the pain in his left eye. Slowly, gingerly, he touched his fingers to it, feeling the shiner. He smiled, thinking of the kiss preceding that punch. He knew it had been real, despite what the little Scully-voice in the back of his head claimed. He laid down fully this time, letting that thought comfort him and lull him to sleep.

---

Scully's hospital visits were rare, for once. Mulder assumed she was afraid he'd bring the subject up again. She did agree to drive him home when he was discharged, however. He had a feeling that she was sticking to her “drug-induced” theory.

This was indeed the case. Scully arrived at his room with a tight smile, waiting to walk him down to her car. He was fully dressed and ready to go, and she handed him his coat that she brought with her. It was unseasonably cold today and she knew he would need it.

He took it and stared at it with an odd look on his face. One she couldn't quite interpret. It was gone as quickly as it arrived, though, and he escorted her out of the room with his hand on her back, as usual.

She was uncharacteristically chatty in the elevator, updating him regarding what the Gunmen had further learned about the ship. She gave more information than she needed to and even went so far as to rattle off explanations of nautical terms that her father had taught her. She knew she was being weird, but she was worried that if she stopped talking, he would say it again. Here. In this hospital. In front of people.

Scully stopped talking suddenly when she took notice of his black eye, which was mostly healed by now.

"You know," She said as their steps clicked in sync through the parking garage. "I don't think I asked you how you got that." She leaned forward so he could see her pointing at her own eye.

His hand went to touch it, and he smiled to himself. "Well, do you want the rational answer or the real answer?"

A frown crossed her face and she turned forward again, deciding to drop it. If he wanted to keep believing in that dream/hallucination about being transported to 1939 and punching Nazis by her side, then that was on him. She didn't want to encourage it by asking.

Even though you should know better by now that there's no way it could be real. I mean really Mulder, time travel itself is far from a possibility at this point in scientific advancement, and it certainly isn't lurking somewhere in the ocean waiting for you to happen across it. And besides, even if you did travel back in time, how the hell would I have been there with you when I was here searching for you? Or Skinner? Or the Cancer Man?

She held back her lecture, letting her mind repeat it on loop like a sort of mantra as she drove. She didn't want to lecture him today, not with all this awkwardness hanging in the air. Get to his apartment. Get him home safe. Make sure he doesn't immediately run off and nearly die again.

The car ride was silent. She was lost in her thoughts, and so was he, but they were very different thoughts. She distracted herself with the scientific improbabilities of his tale while he wondered when would be the best time to bring his feelings up again.

He was surprised when she got out of the car with him, having expected her to drop him off and immediately go home.

"You don't have to walk me up, Scully. I know how to get to my apartment,” he joked.

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "I don't know, Mulder. Sometimes it feels like if I don't lock you in your apartment myself then you'll immediately run off to do something stupid."

He laughed a bit more than he probably should have, just grateful that she was joking with him. "How did you find me, by the way? Out in the ocean?"

She recounted the tale on the walk up to his unit (leaving out the part where she kissed Skinner square on the lips, since she still couldn't believe she'd done that. And it was weird to think that she'd kissed Skinner before ever kissing Mulder).

"And then we heard a loud splash and ran over to find you floating in the water. I don't know if you jumped or you fell, but either way, I don't understand how you managed to slip past us while we scoured the whole ship. I mean really, Mulder, you didn't hear us calling for you?"

He fiddled with his keys as they arrived at his door and simply shot her a smirk. They both knew his answer. She held back an eye-roll and settled for her really, Mulder? face.

He unlocked the door and let himself in, then paused and turned as if to gauge her. If she was coming in.

She hovered a few feet away from his door, looking awkward. When she made no move to follow him into the apartment, his jaw tightened. He knew that if he let her walk away now, this would be swept under the rug. They'd go back to normal — whatever that meant now that they were off the X-Files. She’d continue thinking it was an accident, and he’d spend who knows how long wondering what if.

“Uh,” She moved awkwardly. “I guess I’ll-”

“Scully,” His voice was soft as he leaned out of his door. She looked up at him. Was that fear in her eyes? Or hope? “About what I said in the hospital...”

“Mulder, you don’t have to-”

“I meant it. I really did, Scully.” He leaned forward, his hand pressed against the door jamb as leverage. She was still so far away. “I keep thinking. About that night, in this hallway. What would have happened if...” He trailed off, not wanting to go in-depth about the bee incident. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Scully, and that was what I was trying to say that night. Everything I said about how you saved me and made me a whole person. That was what I meant.”

Her mouth opened and shut as she floundered for something to say. “Mulder-”

She was interrupted as the door across from Mulder’s apartment opened and one of his seldom-seen neighbors exited. He glanced at the two, then quickly turned and walked down the hallway towards the elevator. They both caught his brief you guys again face.

Both embarrassed, Mulder gestured for Scully to enter his apartment and she quickly obliged. Whatever happened, neither of them wanted it to play out for the entertainment of his neighbors.

Mulder shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He looked at her expectantly.

Scully hesitated. She knew, deep down, that she felt the same way. She had for a long time. But now? Of all times, he had to pick now? They were split up, kicked off the X-Files. The same X-Files that his ex-girlfriend was now working. And what about Diana? Scully felt a flare of anger at the thought of the woman. This was happening right on the heels of her coming into their lives and disrupting the rhythm they’d found. She knew he trusted Diana, but she didn’t know why. Why trust her on blind faith when he hadn’t seen the woman in years? When it was so obvious that she had come back into his life for the wrong reasons? He could say all the things he wanted to Scully now, but who was to say that he wouldn't turn right around and choose Diana over her, if given the chance?

She realized she was angry. More than scared at what his confession meant, she was angry that he’d done it. That he’d done it now when so much in their lives was up in the air.

Scully licked her lips, then pursed them, trying to fight back the tears of frustration that had built up in her eyes. “Mulder, I don’t think now is the time.” Her voice was deadly calm. The kind of calm that meant she was furious.

Mulder picked up on that, and he hesitated. “I...I know that, Scully,” He spoke as if talking to a predatory animal. Cautious. “But I-” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I realized I don’t know how much time I have left to do this. I mean, you in Antarctica and me in the Bermuda Triangle.” He gave a short, wry laugh. “Our lives are in danger more often than they’re not. And I know this is crappy timing, Scully, I know that. What with our jobs and the X-Files and D-” He stopped himself from saying Diana’s name, knowing how she might react. 

He looked away and sighed, then looked back, moving a bit closer to her. “And I know I’m putting you in a terrible position here. But you don’t have to- I’m not expecting you to say yes. I’ll drop this if you really want me to.” He moved even closer, and Scully wondered for a second if he would embrace her, or take her hand. But instead, he moved past her, behind her. She blinked at the door before turning to face him, and during that time she realized what he was doing. He was moving out of her path to the door. He was giving her an out. An escape.

When she turned to face him, he continued, his voice low. “One word from you, and I’ll shut up about it forever. But I have to ask you something,” He reached out as if to take her hand, then seemed to think better of it and dropped his hand back to his side. He searched her eyes instead, visibly swallowing as he mustered up the courage. “Is it me you're worried about having regrets? Or yourself?"

She blinked at that, stunned and slightly offended. Her jaw tensed. "Maybe I am worried, Mulder.” Her voice was carefully even. “Maybe I'm worried that you can say all these things to me but that doesn't mean we'd be able to make it work." Her voice rose with anger. "Maybe I don't want another major change. I mean, the X-Files is in danger, our jobs are in danger, and maybe I don't want to put our partnership - our friendship - in danger too!" She let her breathing slow down a bit and stepped up close to him, her voice quieter now and another emotion visible on her face besides anger. "Maybe you mean too much to me to jeopardize what we have now,” she whispered.

He stared down at her, searching her eyes. She broke eye contact to gaze off at nothing, briefly pressing her lips together thoughtfully. "Maybe now isn't the best time." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked like she wasn't even speaking to him, like she was speaking to someone off in the distance, or to herself.

"Maybe there'll never be a best time," He countered, his voice a low murmur.

She looked back up at him and watched his lips purse slightly as he swallowed. She was so close to him now, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her. But he stayed put. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own, and something unspoken passed between them. She was afraid. Afraid to believe the way she always was. But rather than aliens or the paranormal, she was afraid to believe in them. And he couldn't blame her. But they were past the point of no return now and a decision had to be made. Whether it was a yes or no, or even a later, she had to give him an answer.

Scully stared at him for what felt like hours, considering the possibilities, all the different outcomes. The consequences. It was entirely possible that it wouldn't work out between them. Probable, even. Who was to say that the platonic nature of their relationship was all that was keeping it afloat? And her life was already so entangled with Mulder's that this felt like it would be giving herself over to him completely; getting rid of any last sliver of a chance that some part of her life wouldn't involve him.

She'd never meant to cut herself off from her friends and stop dating. But at a certain point, she just couldn't justify trying anymore. She had no time for it and couldn't even discuss most cases over dinner, much less go in-depth on what her job entailed. And there was always the risk of getting someone else caught up in the dangers that she and Mulder constantly found themselves in. She didn't want another innocent person who was close to her to pay the price. Not like Melissa had.

Plus, a large number of single men her age were looking to settle down and have kids, and that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have over and over with various men.

And to be honest, she couldn't imagine a life with anyone else. When she imagined her future, her mind no longer conjured up images of a white-bread husband and kids in a house outside the city like it used to long ago, before she’d even started med school. Instead, it was her and Mulder. The two of them by each other's sides, shrouded in shadows and investigating the unexplainable and unraveling conspiracies while simultaneously getting tangled further in them. Part of her was growing tired of the constant danger, sure, but the rest of her couldn't imagine doing anything else.

And she certainly couldn't imagine a life without Mulder by her side. Maybe this was the next logical leap for them. And a small part of her brain brought up the fact that maybe the risk would be worth it to know what it would feel like to be with Mulder in every sense of the word.

It was her move. And she had to make it.

She didn’t let herself think anymore, didn’t give herself time to hesitate. She reached up around the back of his neck and pulled him down as she rose up on her toes. They met in the middle.

It was sweet. And chaste. And short. They both pulled away and her hand moved from his neck to cup the side of his face.

Mulder hesitated, as if still not sure of her answer. But then he reached an arm around her waist, pulling her back in. She pulled his head down again at the same time and they crashed together, more forceful. As if that alone could make up for all the time they’d wasted not doing this. Both of her hands wove through his hair as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and brushed against his. She swore she heard him moan.

Scully had never been a huge fan of making out. Even as she’d graduated from inexperienced teenage boys with too-wet mouths to seasoned men who knew how to use their tongues, in all her previous relationships she’d viewed it as a mere preamble for the good stuff. But this, oh, this. It was better than anything before it. Whether it was because of their relationship or how long they’d waited or whatever cosmic theory Mulder might come up with, she didn’t know. And right now, she didn’t care.

She shed both their coats, but his hands moved on her hesitantly, and she realized it was still her move. With the slightest of grins against his lips, she turned them both and pushed him up against the wall, slipping herself into the space that had opened up between his legs. She let go of her inhibitions and her worries. Every impulse, everything she’d restrained herself from doing to him for years now was let loose. She pressed herself against him and abandoned his lips so hers could trail down his neck, grazing at various spots with fervor. He wasn’t due back at the office for a few days anyway, she thought to herself with a smile.

He gasped for breath and she heard him curse before strong arms suddenly lifted her up so they were eye-level. Despite the surprise, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her skirt riding up and bunching around her hips as she did so. It was her turn to be pressed against the wall as Mulder kissed her jawline.

“Jesus, Scully,” He murmured, and she let out a breathless chuckle that was cut off by a gasp as she felt his hot breath in her ear. He moved below it and down her neck, more careful about leaving marks than she had been. Unlike him, she had to be presentable for work tomorrow.

A short moan escaped her as he worked. She was throbbing now, and in a normal moment, she would be embarrassed by quickly she’d gotten wet. But she knew they were on equal footing. She was too high up on his waist to feel it, but she knew he was hard. Thinking quickly, she used the wall as leverage as she let her legs drop ever-so-slightly down his body. She kept herself off of him for a few moments, resisting the urge to press against him. As he finished up on her neck, though, she took his face in her hands and kissed him again - hard - as she finally ground down against his erection.

They both moaned then, and their kisses were broken up as they both had to repeatedly gasp for breath as they moved against each other. She wanted him here, now. She didn’t care if their first time was rough and up against the wall of his apartment. After spending so long moving at a snail’s pace, she wanted to go fast with him for once. They’d waited long enough, and there would be plenty of time for something slow and sweet in the future.

She shivered, the thought of being able to do this again making her more desperate. “Mulder,” She gasped against him as he trailed down her neck again. “Please.”

He grunted and pulled away, meeting her gaze. Their breathing started to even out. Why had he stopped? “Scully, I don’t know if-”

She groaned and let her head fall back to hit the wall. “Mulder, I swear to God, if you’re about to give me some shit about how we should wait, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He chuckled. “No, uh, I was gonna say that I don’t know if we wanna stay up on this wall. I think the couch would be a better spot.”

“Oh.” Her voice was light with surprise. She shrugged. “That’s fine.” The wall was perfectly fine with her, but if he wanted the couch, then the couch would do. All she needed was him. And why the hell didn’t he own a bed?

He grinned mischievously and pulled her off the wall. She had to tighten her legs’ grip around him in order to keep her balance, which led to her moving further against his erection. She went ahead and pulled off her shirt as he carried her, figuring there would be no use for it.

He dropped her on the couch and his own weight followed as he kneeled over her, pushing her skirt up even more and pulling her underwear down. She eyed the tent in his pants, wondering if he was going to get right to it, but instead, he lowered himself and settled his head between her legs.

His tongue moved against her slowly, at first. Spread wide across her, he licked slowly and deliberately once, twice, three times.

She felt like every muscle in her body was clenched, and she let out an impatient groan that he would tease her for later. “Muld-”

Before she could finish her protest, he moved again, faster now. Alternating between circling her clit and sucking on it.

She gasped. “Oh.” She bit her lip and let out a shaky breath. “Oh.”

He moved lower, his tongue dipping inside her and out, and she whimpered. She shoved her hand suddenly in his hair and pulled him off of her, her chest heaving. She was too close.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly as he licked his lips. What did she want? Had he done something wrong?

It took a couple of heaving breaths before she found her voice. “C’mon, Mulder.” Her voice was low.

He got the message, his hands flying to his crotch. She didn’t watch him undress, instead leaning her head back and throwing her arm over her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. Her whole body felt like a tightly coiled spring. She needed release and she needed it soon.

She felt the couch shift and sensed his face hovering over hers. She removed her arm so she could look up at him.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

God, yes, She wanted to say, but she could only bring herself to nod, licking her lips.

“I, um, I don’t have any condoms.”

She shook her head, wishing he would just stop talking. “I don’t care,” She whispered breathlessly as she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. She tasted herself on his lips and the memory of his mouth on her made her hips twitch upward involuntarily. “Please, Mulder.”

In a more sensible moment, she would have explained how there was essentially no need for a condom. She couldn’t get pregnant, and she knew both of their medical histories well enough to no there was no danger of anything. But this wasn’t a sensible moment. Right now, all she could think about was how she needed him inside her.

He knew all the same information she did, of course. He’d probably mentioned condoms out of politeness or propriety.

Her head fell back against the couch as she felt him press up against her, moving in a way that spread her wetness over him. Just as she thought she'd die if he waited any longer, she felt him enter her. Six years of foreplay was more than enough prep, but it was still a pleasant surprise as he stretched her. He was bigger than she’d expected. Once he was all the way in, he stopped.

“Everything okay? Do you need a second?”

For a guy who had a penchant for being careless, he was being too damn considerate. “Mulder, just shut up and fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He was slow and rhythmic at first, making sure she was okay, then quickened his pace, his head ducked into her shoulder. She was close, she was so close and she knew what she needed to send her over the edge, but she waited, wanting to give him more time. Riding the edge felt like the best kind of agony.

It felt like ages before she heard him groan and mutter a “fuck” and she knew he was getting there. Without hesitation, she slipped her hand between them and started working her clit, the combined sensations quickly sending her careening towards the edge.

She panted against him. “Mulder, I’m- mm- Mulder-”

He could only manage a grunt in response as he slammed into her, sending them both over the edge. They came undone together, clinging onto each other and gasping for breath. As they came down from their peak, he pulled out of her and leaned forward, his forehead resting heavily against hers. They stayed like that for a while, catching their breaths.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at what she could of his face. As if knowing she was looking at him, his eyes opened too.

They gazed at each other for a while, both coming to terms with what had just happened. Scully’s lips twitched up in a brief smile.

“I love you, too, by the way.”