#and the deflect it with her light shield

[ganondoodle]

rough concept for the cutscene between phase 3 (beast ganondorf, design not final) and the final fight

(totk rewritten project)

(.. i really need to find an approach to painting these that i like, i dont think its very convincing .. and it wasnt very fun to paint either :( )

[keepingitformyself]

and my waves meet your shore

A/N: this one has been in the drafts for two years.... synopsis: natasha seems to have found silence in all the noise.

MASTERLIST

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: angst, fluff.

warnings: sad natasha :(

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha romanoff has lived a very lonely ife.

however, as sad as it may seem natasha never once payed any heed to it. relationships and rapport had rarely been acknowledged by her superiors during her time in the red room. but if it ever was it was only to display the inconvenience it would bring to her life.

so as a stead natasha had only ever put her mind to the things she was instructed to, unfortunately companionship had never been in that spectrum for her.

her lack of agency had always made that easier for her. she was always taught to deflect at any first sign of fragility and she never needed anyone else because— well she was simply better off on her own.

still, thoughts of having any sense of togetherness or intimacy would sometimes cross her mind, but as soon as they came she was always quick to brush them off.

it took her some time to discard the habit of having that mentality.

natasha’s upbringing was one made up of unspeakable catastrophe, things one simply could not ever bear to speak about. she had taken too many falls, and she had shed too much blood and tears for a life she never intended.

but when she did manage to set herself free, plagued with nothing but the haunts of the past she left behind, with the very small amount of hope she had left in humanity, she rose slowly from the depths of a narrative she’d never spare a glance back at again.

and she had clint barton to thank for that. he would never understand the amount of gratitude she had towards the archer. he had given her a sense of family, a sense of home. he let her in and introduced her to his own life outside of what it meant to be on the light side of the fight.

he was her first shot at a real human relationship. her shot at a second chance.

it had flicked a switch inside of her whenever she saw clint hug his kids and kiss their cheeks. natasha had only ever known cruelty, she had never seen something so benevolent before.

she liked it whenever she got to see that side of him, the side that wasn’t so stoic and on high alert all the time, the side that wasn’t agent barton.

it changed her perspective when it came to the world. she had only ever seen the ugly in people. her experience with some of the most horrendous things had allowed for her to see the humanity in others.

but unfortunately, never in herself.

even after switching her allegiance to the avengers she still couldn’t bear the thought of the person she used to be, the one that was the exact opposite of who she is now.

she devoted herself to the fight and had made her own separate code to live by. it became a need for her to do only the great or good, so much so that she was willing to put her own life on the line if it ever came to it. her entire life became one of redemption.

natasha romanoff had lived a tragic life. no one would ever understand her and her troubled past, and no one had ever made the time to try.

that is until she met you.

she had met you in a weird time in her life. taking down what was left of shield also meant exposing who she was before her years as an agent at shield.

many people were out of a job after that. some moved on, others promoted into whatever secret agency would come next. you however, had been offered a spot next to the world’s mightiest heroes.

she was wary of you, of course. she had the right to be. it wasn’t everyday someone would show up out of the blue and offer her a piece of themselves.

you were like that a lot. natasha quickly learned you had no problem in sharing parts about you to make others feel better. sure, you weren’t someone who carried a large amount of baggage like the rest of them, but that felt refreshing to most of the team.

natasha never got to pick her battles before, until now. she’d always deny saying that she hated the fight more than she showed.

the truth is, natasha wasn’t ready for a fight much like this one, but nonetheless, it was still one she wouldn’t surrender to.

—

natasha has nightmares. bad ones too.

it’s the same thing every time they happen. she wakes up in the night and paces her room, it feels like a fire inside. the smoke that isn’t there manages to make her feel like it consumes her into its flames.

she feels helpless in its flames, she convinced herself that the lifetimes worth of nightmares is what she deserves. she cries and hopes that it ends soon, all she can do is hold her own until it passes.

suddenly, you barge in. you find natasha on the floor, looking frail and disrupted. you don’t waste a moment in rushing towards her.

you don’t even think about how you’ve never been in such close proximity to her. then you hug her. you tell her that she’s okay, that it’s okay.

she never pushes you off and it surprises you, natasha quickly figures that she likes to be held and you feel warm against her, so she lets you.

you kiss her dampened forehead and keep coaxing her, telling her anything and everything that you think might help her. you never push her into opening up, you understand the intimacy of it, natasha is thankful for that.

when you feel her breath steady and her cries have grown quieter you walk her back to her bed. you both look at each other for a moment and she breathes out before saying.

“thank you.” her voice comes out in a rasp.

you only nod, a small smile on your face. you make your way to leave until you feel her hand graze your own. you meet her eyes again with a furrow in your brows.

the look she gives you tells you that she doesn’t want this to be brought up again and that she trusts that it will remain between you both. your hand touches her own,

“you can trust me.” is all you say before leaving back towards where you came from.

when natasha wakes up that morning she finds that she hates her reflection in the mirror. she notices pieces of her old self when staring into her eyes.

she clenches the counter under her hands and squeezes her eyes until she musters up enough courage to walk out of her bedroom door.

when she makes her way into the busy kitchen she’s greeted instantly by everyone. she smiles and greets back, acting as if nothing had happened the night prior. that is until she feels a warm cup being pushed into her hands.

“morning, i made your coffee. i’ll serve you a plate in just a moment.” you greet the redhead with a smile. she raises her eyebrows in surprise and takes the coffee in her hands.

she sits besides clint and hums in contentment once she figures out that you made her cup just the way she liked it. black and one sugar.

you make breakfast easy for her to feel comfortable in. you act as if nothing had happened and continue to pass around jokes with the boys. natasha even passes you the ketchup bottle with a small smile when you ask for it. your mind cheers at the small progress you think you’ve made.

now, natasha knows that she can somewhat trust you and in the enlightenment of that she starts to loosen herself when it comes to you.

since then you’ve seen more of natasha around the building and you notice how she’s open to your company even more.

you now find the redhead sitting next to you during meals if she finds a space empty and she acknowledges you with a smile if you see her passing in hallways throughout the day.

one particular moment that really catches you by surprise is when you finally let yourself make the time to sharpen your knife collection. you hadn’t had the chance to since work piled up and it wasn’t until today that you were now allowed a free day.

and when you make it to your armory you find that all your blades and knives had been sharpened and cleaned. a note left by the redhead in your locker.

‘i know you haven’t had the time. -N’ you’re left shocked but don’t even question how she knew this despite never mentioning it to her.

two weeks later, she walks up to you in the middle of your workout. she taps your shoulder and you remove your earbud to turn towards her.

“hi!” you say too enthusiasticly, surprised she had walked up to you to start a conversation.

you’ve learned by now to never push for her attention, you let her come to you when she wants to. everything had to happen at her own pace if you want to be her friend.

she invites you for movies in her room later that night. a shy smile invades her face as she releases the sentence, you could tell she seemed a bit nervous at the idea of being in a room alone with you.

you agree as cooly as you can, careful to not overexcite your response in case she suddenly sees it as weird.

later that night you find yourself in bed with natasha, she shares her bag of skittles with you whilst she chooses a movie. you smile when you notice the stash of snacks she had hidden, a variety of skittles and reece’s. you make a mental note to gift her some more of her favorite snacks.

she makes you watch her favorite bond films, you never point it out but you know for most of the movies she had watched you instead.

the gears turn in natasha’s head. she watches you laugh and sees the fascination swirl in your eyes as you become invested in the action sequences.

she searches and searches for any sign of bad intention in you. part of her has not fully comprehended how someone like you had wanted to be involved with someone like her. she knows how patient you’ve been…but why?

she absolutely cannot help it that she feels this way, not when it’s been programmed into her to never be this vulnerable.

but every bone within her knows you’re anything but ill-intended. her mind just simply can’t wrap around the idea that someone seems to want to stay.

once the movie had finished you stayed back for a while to talk. you had no problem in taking charge of most of the conversation, you knew natasha was still adjusting to you.

she asks you questions, you answer.

you tell her about your family. you grew up in brooklyn, a cute brownstone in the park slope neighborhood. you had two older siblings, each four years older. a brother, a stockbroker and your sister who was an interior designer.

you notice the small quirk in natasha’s face when you mention your siblings, you decide not to question it.

until two weeks later. you’re in her room again and she brings it up during a harry potter marathon.

“i have a sister.” is all she has to say before you pause the movie.

“pardon?” you look at her, but she’s still staring at the screen.

“i have a sister, or had, i don’t really know where she is now.”

you tread carefully with your next question.

“do you think about her a lot?” the question finally makes her look at you.

“all the time.” she whispers.

you think of how devastating it may be for her to know someone out there was once a part of her.

“thank you for telling me.”

—————

after a solo mission to johannesburg you come back in very bad shape. you’d barely made it out by the time an airlift came to retrieve you.

and once you’re lifted into the jet by a combat med you don’t notice the worried redhead that’s in the jet waiting for you as well.

she grabs your face in her two hands, worried expression on her face.

you’re breathing heavy, and you’re clutching your stomach with the same arm that’s throbbing.

all you can really do is give her a bloodied smile.

you take a sharp breath in, “hey…” then your eyelids go heavy and you don’t really remember much of anything after that.

by the time you’ve landed it’s all a mess. everyone hears about your state, and the whole team is there to meet you at the landing dock when you’re being carried in a stretcher into the compound.

natasha only talks to three people until you wake up. steve to report everything to, and bruce and doctor cho for any inquiry on your state of health.

despite everyone’s efforts to convince natasha you’re fine, she’s stays put and keeps her eye on you through surgery. clint tries to get her to eat but his attempts fail, only met with complete silence. and wanda tries to tell her to at least freshen up for you, but she’s met with silence yet again.

it’s all honestly a bit off putting how eerily quiet she got. the team decides then, that when it comes to you it’s best to just let her be.

but she’s there again when you wake up in the med bay. she instantly hears your shift in breathing and wakes up only seconds after you do.

“you’re awake.” is the first thing she says.

and you in your disoriented state say,

“good. i’m really loopy still, so i can’t really tell if i’m dreaming or not.”

natasha lets out what sounds like a relieved sigh or a laugh, but it makes you smile, and you both stare at eachother for a few seconds.

you look at her, a grateful smile on your face.

the gears in natasha’s head turn. something about the way she found you almost twenty four hours ago had shifted something in her.

she was with steve when you reported you may need extraction as soon as possible. your breathing was ragged and you let out at strangled whimper before the line cut off.

“i’m going.” was all natasha said before she headed off to pack a bag. she was there before the extraction team fifteen minutes later.

it was hard to think of anything else besides you, on her way to you. and it was hard to think of anything else besides being with you when she finally got to you.

it was something she couldn’t quite place, or maybe she could, maybe she wasn’t ready to face it yet.

you squint your eyes at the redhead next to you, noticing her deep in thought state. you almost think you see a twinge of something else besides relief in her eyes. but before you could question it almost robotically a mask is put back up.

“i’ll go get, cho.” is all she says before she clears her throat and leaves.

after that, you catch natasha around you alot. more than usual.

suddenly every partner mission you’re assigned to, natasha is there with you ready to go.

and you never find out, but she made steve promise to assign you both together. she never really tells him why, even when he asks she’s quite good at deflecting those questions.

and quite honestly, he didn’t have it in himself to question her, knowing she always had everyone’s best interests in mind.

it’s a little past midnight when you find natasha sitting on the compound’s balcony. the distant hum of the city mixes with the soft chirping of crickets, creating a quiet melody that feels oddly serene. she doesn’t startle when you join her, doesn’t even glance up, but you notice the slight tension in her shoulders ease as you settle into the chair beside her.

the silence between you stretches, comfortable yet charged with unspoken words. she’s never been much for small talk—her world operates on subtleties and actions rather than open confessions. you’ve learned to understand her language, the way she communicates through fleeting gestures and careful glances.

“i didn’t expect you to be awake,” she finally says, voice low and steady. her gaze is fixed on the horizon, as if the view holds answers she’s not ready to share.

“couldn’t sleep,” you reply, mirroring her tone. “too quiet.”

she huffs a quiet laugh. “you don’t strike me as someone who likes noise.”

“i don’t. but sometimes, silence is its own kind of noise, don’t you think?”

her eyes flicker toward you, studying your profile like she’s trying to decipher a code. you don’t push; you’ve never needed to. natasha unfolds on her terms, like a flower reluctant to bloom under artificial light.

“i used to hate silence,” she admits after a moment. “it felt… heavy. like it was waiting to crush me.”

you nod, not saying anything but giving her the space to continue.

“then, i realized it wasn’t the silence i hated. it was being alone in it.”

the admission hangs in the air, raw and unguarded in a way natasha rarely allows herself to be. you shift in your seat, careful to keep your movements unassuming.

“you’re not alone anymore,” you say gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

her head tilts, and for a brief moment, you see the war behind her eyes—the battle between wanting to believe you and the deep-seated scars of her past telling her otherwise.

“it doesn’t feel like it when you’re around,” she finally says, her voice soft but carrying the weight of her sincerity.

it’s a small victory, but one that fills your chest with warmth. you glance at her, and this time, she meets your eyes. there’s a vulnerability in her gaze, a quiet plea for something she doesn’t know how to ask for.

“you don’t have to carry it all by yourself,” you say. “not anymore.”

her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, and she looks back out at the skyline.

“i know.”

it’s not an overt declaration or a grand epiphany, but it’s enough. natasha romanoff doesn’t find solace in words. she finds it in actions, in the quiet moments shared with someone who sees her for who she is and stays anyway.

natasha hesitates, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of her chair. she’s rarely still for long—always poised, always prepared to move, to act. but tonight, she’s caught between the present and the thousand questions swirling in her mind.

her voice comes unexpectedly, low and careful. “when you were hurt on that mission…” she pauses, her jaw tightening as she fights the urge to retreat into herself. “…i realized something.”

you turn toward her fully, watching as she wrestles with whatever it is she’s trying to say. her hands rest on her lap now, and her gaze is focused on them as though the answers are carved into her palms.

“nat…” you prompt softly, giving her space to continue.

she exhales, a sound heavy with reluctance and resolve. “i’ve lost people before. more than i can count. and i always told myself it was… just part of the job. you can’t stop to feel when you’re in the middle of everything. you can’t afford to.”

you stay quiet, knowing this isn’t the moment for interruptions.

“but when i saw you…” her voice falters, her fingers curling into fists before relaxing again. “it wasn’t the same. i didn’t—” she stops, looks up at you with a rare vulnerability that makes your chest ache. “i didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t come back.”

the admission is small, almost swallowed by the quiet around you, but it lands with the force of something much larger. you feel the words settle in your chest, warm and grounding.

you lean forward slightly, letting the closeness fill the space between you. “you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for,” you offer, keeping your tone as gentle as you can. “but just so you know… i’m not going anywhere.”

natasha’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze searching yours as though she’s testing the truth of your words. slowly, her hand moves, and she brushes her fingers against yours. it’s tentative, a question wrapped in the smallest of gestures.

you respond by turning your hand over, letting her fingers slip into yours. it’s not much—a barely-there connection—but to natasha, it feels monumental.

“i don’t know what this is,” she admits, her voice trembling just slightly, “or if i even deserve it. but... you make me feel something i didn’t think i could anymore.”

your breath catches at her confession, the subtle weight of it more than you expected but exactly what you’ve been hoping for.

“i think you deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for,” you reply, your thumb brushing softly over her knuckles. “and whatever this is, i’m okay with figuring it out… with you.”

she doesn’t respond immediately, but the way her grip tightens around your hand is all the answer you need. the silence that follows is comfortable, filled not with the weight of unspoken fears but with the quiet promise of something new.

natasha glances at you once more, her green eyes soft in the moonlight. “thank you,” she murmurs. it’s the second time she’s said it to you, but tonight it carries more meaning, more intention.

for the first time in a long time, natasha feels the silence settle.

[mascdestr0yer]

CAN I BE HIM

Knight!paige x princess!reader

Warnings: nobody’s dying this time, trust

Synopsis: The tension between you and Paige is building, driven by secrets and expectations, with both of you caught between duty and desire. The atmosphere remains heavy and uncertain, hinting at deeper conflicts and emotions that will only grow as the story unfolds.

A/N: i finished the other chapters, i’ll post them in moderation

The castle had always felt too big. Its halls, lined with tapestries depicting ancient wars and victories long past, echoed with the heavy footsteps of guards and the murmured conversations of nobles. Outside your window, the sun cast the last rays of the evening over the dark silhouette of the forest, stretching shadows across the stone floor like tendrils reaching out to pull you from the warmth of your chambers.

But warmth was an illusion here, you’d come to realize. A castle of cold stone can only hold so much heat before it slips through your fingers like water, leaving you clutching at something that was never really there. Just like people.

You sighed, running your fingers over the edge of the windowsill, chipped with age and flecked with dust. It had been three days since Vincent and his family had left, three days since your father and his advisors began their quiet, tense deliberations about what your future might hold. Three days since Paige had pulled away—again—leaving you alone with your thoughts, staring down at the flowers Vincent had brought. You had kept them in a silver vase on your dresser, though they were already beginning to wilt.

The petals were soft under your fingertips as you absently brushed one of the roses, its once-vibrant red now fading to a dull maroon. There had been a time when you would have pressed them between the pages of a book or tucked them into a drawer to keep them close, but you knew better now. Roses, like promises, were fragile things.

“Princess,” a voice came from the doorway, breaking the silence. You turned, and your heart twisted when you saw Paige standing there, her figure half-hidden in the shadow. Her armor glinted in the dying light, a stark contrast to the softness of her dark hair that curled around her neck. She looked hesitant, like she had something to say but couldn’t find the words.

“Yes, Bueckers?” you asked, deliberately formal. It was a barrier, a shield. Something you could hide behind, just like the heavy silk curtains that draped your bed.

She took a step inside, the usual swagger in her step absent, replaced by something… uncertain. “Your father requests your presence in the great hall,” she said, her voice clipped and businesslike, though her eyes were darting to the flowers on the dresser, the barely-there frown tightening her lips. “It’s about Prince Vincent.”

“Of course it is,” you replied, your tone light, almost flippant. It was easier to pretend, easier to deflect with humor than to acknowledge the strange knot in your stomach when you looked at her. Paige’s expression didn’t change as she turned to leave, but something flickered in her eyes—a flash of something raw and vulnerable that disappeared so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it.

You followed her down the corridors, your footsteps barely making a sound on the cold flagstones, but Paige’s armor clinked with every step, a steady, distant rhythm. You knew that beneath the armor, her shoulders were tense, and her hands—those hands that had so often held yours in secret—were clenched tight.

The great hall loomed ahead, the heavy wooden doors shut tight, and you swallowed the knot of unease that had lodged itself in your throat. Your father was waiting, along with his advisors and the knights who always seemed to lurk in the background like silent sentinels, watching your every move.

Paige stopped before the doors, her back straight as she faced you. “Go on,” she said softly, and for a moment, the coldness in her gaze softened. “I’ll wait here.”

You wanted to reach out, to say something that would ease the tension between you, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you gave a short nod and pushed open the doors, stepping into the cavernous hall where your father, King Alaric, sat upon the throne with a solemn expression.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority and exhaustion. “Come, sit. There’s much to discuss.”

You took your place at the long table, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on you—eyes that saw a princess, not a girl; a future queen, not someone lost in her own castle. The fire roared in the massive hearth at the far end of the room, but it offered no warmth, only casting shadows across the faces of the court, making them look hollow and distant.

“We’ve received word from Héroux,” your father began, and your heart sank. This was about Vincent, then. About the future that was slipping away from you like sand through your fingers. You listened as your father outlined plans, negotiations, arrangements—details of a life that felt more like a cage with each passing moment.

But your thoughts kept drifting back to Paige, standing just outside the doors, waiting. You wondered if she felt as trapped as you did, bound by duty and expectations neither of you had chosen.

When the meeting was finally over, you excused yourself with a polite bow, your face a mask of perfect composure even as your mind swirled with confusion and doubt. You had to find Paige, had to make sense of the distance that had grown between you in the past few days, ever since Vincent’s visit had stirred up things you hadn’t been ready to confront.

But when you stepped out of the hall, she was gone.

Later that night, you found her in the training yard, a lone figure in the moonlight, her armor piled neatly to the side as she ran through drills with the precision and grace of someone who had done it a thousand times before. You watched her move, the way her muscles tensed and released with each fluid strike, the way her breath formed small clouds in the chill air.

“Paige,” you called softly, and she froze, the sword hovering in mid-swing before she lowered it and turned to face you. Her expression was guarded, the easy smile she usually wore nowhere to be found.

“Shouldn’t you be inside, princess? It’s cold out,” she said, sheathing her sword with a harsh, metallic clink.

“Shouldn’t you?” you countered, taking a step closer, feeling the weight of her gaze settle on you like a physical thing.

She shrugged, but the movement was stiff. “I’m used to the cold.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” you asked, the question coming out sharper than you’d intended. You bit your lip, regret already welling up inside you, but Paige didn’t flinch. She just looked at you, her dark eyes searching yours, and for a moment you thought she might tell you the truth.

But she just laughed, the sound bitter and hollow, echoing off the stone walls of the yard. “Avoiding you? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been busy. Training. Preparing. You know… knight things.”

You took another step, closing the distance between you until you could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, until you could smell the faint scent of leather and sweat clinging to her skin. “Don’t lie to me,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I know you better than that.”

“Do you?” she asked, her voice dropping low, almost desperate. She looked away, her jaw tight, and you knew then that whatever walls had been building between you, they were higher than you’d realized. “Maybe you don’t know me at all.”

“Paige—” you reached out, your hand brushing hers, and she pulled away, turning her back to you with a sharp, angry motion that left you cold and aching.

“Go back inside, princess,” she said over her shoulder, her voice flat. “It’s late.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that you didn’t care about late or propriety or the future your father was planning for you. But the look on her face stopped you—something broken and fragile that you didn’t understand, not yet. So you stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that could hold you together.

“Goodnight, Bueckers,” you said softly, using her last name because it was safer that way, because it was easier to pretend that you were still just a princess and she was still just your knight.

She didn’t respond, and you walked away, feeling the weight of her silence pressing down on you like a winter sky, heavy and endless and unbreakable.

But you knew you couldn’t stay away forever.

sorry if it's too short, hope you guys liked it taglist:@aerinaga @dancingqu33n @darlindayss @secretlifeofmarii @aavasstuff @ajcuteee @naipoohh @theendofevangelionnn @mrsengstler @thebignunfun @tired-duckling @julienbakerloverr @mrsarnold @slut4uconnwbb @abbyswif3 @svudetective @liviiyyy @hellokittyfeenie @paigeslanyard @latenighttalkinqwp @ashortyluvsports @kittykatz1227 @paulamdm @patscorner @addil244 @1-800-fantasy

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Be Kind

But if you're gonna fight then do it for me (4)

Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Your Goddess defends you, transforming her into something different.

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, SW refers to R as pet, W calls R baby, R calls Wanda Mommy

A/N: The final chapter for these three. I loved them so very much and I hope you guys did too!

As a stray bolt of Doctor Strange's magic came hurtling towards you, you instinctively flinched, curling up into a defensive ball. But the Scarlet Witch was quicker. With a wave of her hand, she deflected the attack, her magic flaring brighter and more intense.

"Stay behind me, pet," she commanded, her voice distorted but unmistakably protective. You peeked up at her from your curled position, awestruck and terrified by her new form. The intricate, dark design of her mask and the raw power emanating from her made her look like a dark guardian, ready to do anything to keep you safe.

Doctor Strange hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback by the Scarlet Witch's transformation. "Wanda, this isn't the way," he pleaded, trying to reason with her.

But the Scarlet Witch was beyond reason. "She is mine," she hissed, her voice echoing with power. "I will protect her at all costs."

With that, the battle resumed, even more intense than before. The Scarlet Witch's magic swirled around you, creating a shield that absorbed the impact of Doctor Strange's attacks. You could feel the heat and energy of the battle, but you knew that as long as your Goddess was there, you would be protected.

The battle raged on with neither side letting up. Spells clashed in the air, creating bursts of light and energy that lit up the field. The Scarlet Witch was relentless, her fury unmatched as she defended you. Eventually, realizing the battle was at a stalemate, she threw up a barrier and then summoned a portal.

With a swift motion, she picked you up effortlessly, her new form radiating both power and protectiveness. She hopped through the portal, taking you back home in an instant. You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her body despite her fearsome appearance.

As you arrived back home, she held you tightly against her, her heartbeat quick and steady against your ear. Despite the distorted nature of her voice, you could hear the sincerity and determination in her words. "I won't let anyone take you from me, Y/N," she mumbled softly, almost to herself.

You nestled closer, feeling a mixture of fear and comfort. The Scarlet Witch, your Goddess, had fought fiercely to protect you, and in that moment, you knew that she would go to any lengths to keep you safe. The bond between you felt unbreakable, forged stronger through the fire of battle and the depth of her unwavering devotion.

You looked up at her, taking in her new appearance. Your hands moved up to cup her cheeks, feeling the black veins running down her skin, now pale. Her once beautiful crown was now a part of her face, and her eyes glowed red behind the barred mask. "I must be terrifying right now..." she admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

"No...you're my Goddess. You're always beautiful..." you whispered, your heart swelling with affection and loyalty. Without thinking, you leaned up and placed your lips on hers for the first time. The kiss was soft, a mix of love and reverence. When you pulled back, her appearance had shifted back to normal, her red eyes softening to the familiar green.

Your mind flickered to the thought of true love's kiss from all those fairy tales you were read growing up. Could it be that simple? The transformation, the intensity of her protective nature, all seemed to melt away with that one genuine act of love.

She looked down at you, her eyes searching yours. "You truly are devoted to me," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips. "I don't deserve you, but I will protect you with everything I have."

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "And I will always be here for you, my Goddess," you replied, snuggling closer to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her heart. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the bond you shared was unbreakable.

==========

Following the battle with Strange, the Scarlet Witch decided it would be best to find a new spot to live. With her magic, it didn't take much for the two of you to move house. She packed up everything effortlessly, red energy swirling around the objects and neatly placing them into boxes. You watched in awe as the familiar surroundings of your old home were transformed into organized stacks, ready for the journey.

The new cottage was nestled deep in the middle of the woods, miles and miles from anyone else. It was quaint and charming, surrounded by towering trees and the serene sounds of nature. A perfect sanctuary, hidden away from prying eyes and potential threats.

As you arrived, the Scarlet Witch began unpacking with the same ease, her magic making light work of the task. You stood at the edge of the clearing, taking in the beauty of your new home. The air was fresh and clean, the scent of pine and earth filling your senses. Birds chirped in the distance, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a soothing background melody.

"Do you like it, pet?" she asked, her voice soft as she came to stand beside you. Her eyes were their familiar green, filled with a mix of determination and tenderness.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "It's perfect, my Goddess. Thank you."

She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Good. We'll be safe here. No one will find us." Her tone was resolute, a promise of protection.

Over the next few days, you settled into your new routine. The cottage was cozy, with a stone fireplace, wooden beams, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The Scarlet Witch had even created a small garden outside, filled with vibrant flowers and herbs.

Every morning, you woke up to the sound of birdsong and the warmth of the sun streaming through the windows. You spent your days learning more about your magic, under the watchful eye of your Goddess. She was a strict but patient teacher, guiding you through each spell with care. Your nights were filled with quiet moments by the fire, cuddled up with her as she read or simply held you close.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, you looked up at her, a question forming in your mind. "Scarlet, why did you choose this place?"

She glanced at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because it's far away from everything and everyone. It's peaceful. And it's a place where we can be ourselves, without any interruptions."

You nodded, understanding the deeper meaning behind her words. This place was more than just a home; it was a refuge, a place where you could both heal and grow together. As you leaned against her, feeling the steady beat of her heart, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with her, you were home.

You hadn't seen Mommy in weeks while your Goddess had taken back over. Though your Goddess had become softer since the kiss, Mommy's absence was deeply felt. The contrast between them was stark; for two beings sharing a body, they couldn't be more different.

Your Goddess still held an air of authority, a presence that demanded respect and obedience. She was strict, yet not as harsh as before. She had rules and expectations, and while she allowed for moments of tenderness, there was always a reminder of her dominance. You were still her pet, a role you embraced with devotion and reverence.

But Mommy—Mommy was warmth and comfort, a sanctuary of unconditional love. With her, you felt like you could let your guard down completely. Her touch was gentle, her words soothing. She was nurturing, always ready to hold you close and whisper sweet reassurances. In her presence, you were more than just a pet; you were her cherished baby.

The days felt longer without her. You followed your Goddess's commands, practiced your magic, and did everything to please her, but the longing for Mommy's tender affection was always there. You missed the way she would stroke your hair, the softness in her voice, and the safe, warm embrace that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session of magic training, you found yourself sitting on the floor by the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames. The cottage was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves outside. Your Goddess was at her desk, reading an ancient tome, her expression focused and intense.

You dared to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Goddess, may I ask a question?"

She glanced up, her eyes meeting yours. "What is it, pet?"

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Will... will Mommy come back soon?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to your surprise, the intensity in her eyes softened. She closed the tome and stood, walking over to you. Kneeling down, she lifted your chin, her gaze penetrating yet kind.

"She misses you too, you know," she said softly. "But there are things I must take care of. Responsibilities and tasks that require my attention."

You nodded, understanding yet still yearning. "I miss her," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

She brushed a tear from your cheek with a gentle touch. "I know, pet. I promise she will return. And when she does, she will hold you and love you as much as she always has."

You leaned into her touch, feeling a flicker of hope. "Thank you, Goddess."

She smiled, a rare and beautiful sight. "Now, come. Let's get you to bed. You need your rest."

As she led you to your makeshift bed by her feet, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation. The promise of Mommy's return filled your heart with a renewed sense of hope and comfort, knowing that soon, you would be wrapped in her loving embrace once more.

=============

You sat by the fireplace with Nugget, using him as a makeshift pillow while the fire kept you warm. Your Goddess was on the couch, reading over a book. The soft crackling of the fire and the rhythmic turning of pages were soothing, and you closed your eyes, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

What felt like only a moment later, you were gently awoken by the familiar sensation of her magic lifting you up. You opened your eyes to find yourself being placed onto her lap. Your once harsh Goddess had softened ever since you had kissed her. The change was palpable; her touch was tender, and her eyes, though still powerful, held a warmth that made your heart flutter. The two of you were settling into each other, finding a new rhythm that blended the lines of pet and cherished companion.

"Hi baby, did you miss Mommy?" she whispered in your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. A smile broke across your face, and a giggle bubbled up from within you, unable to be contained.

"Yes, Mommy," you replied, snuggling closer to her. The soft fabric of her sweater felt comforting against your skin, and her arms around you made you feel safe and loved. "I missed you so much."

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, soothing and affectionate. "I missed you too, sweet girl," she murmured. "Every moment we spend together is precious to me."

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers. "You make me so happy, Mommy."

Her smile widened, and she kissed the top of your head. "And you make me happy too, little one. So very happy."

The fire crackled beside you, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, the sounds of the forest provided a serene backdrop to this intimate moment. You felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you were right where you belonged.

"Mommy," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yes, baby?" she responded, her voice soft and reassuring.

"I love you."

Her arms tightened around you, and she kissed your forehead. "I love you too, my sweet girl. More than you can ever know."

===========

Six months had passed, and life had taken on a new, comforting rhythm. You now had a room of your own, a small shed outback that Wanda had transformed into a cozy art studio. It was a place of solace, a haven where you could lose yourself in the colors and strokes of your brushes. The shed was filled with canvases, some finished, others still in progress, and the smell of oil and acrylic paints lingered in the air.

Wanda had given you this space, recognizing your need for a personal sanctuary. You had always loved painting, creating beautiful landscapes and scenes that seemed to flow effortlessly from your mind onto the canvas. What started as a hobby had become something more profound. Wanda often referred to your paintings as prophetic, noting how events depicted in your artwork would later unfold in reality. It was as if you were capturing glimpses of the future without even realizing it.

Today, you were working on a new piece, a serene forest scene bathed in the golden light of dawn. The trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a vibrant mix of greens and yellows, while a gentle stream wound its way through the underbrush. You lost yourself in the details, the brush moving with a life of its own.

As you painted, you thought about the changes that had come into your life. The once strict and imposing presence of your Goddess had softened considerably. Wanda and the Scarlet Witch had found a balance, coexisting in a way that allowed both to express their unique forms of love and care for you. You still followed the rules, still respected the boundaries set by your Goddess, but there was a tenderness now that hadn't existed before.

The door to your studio creaked open, and you turned to see Wanda standing there, a soft smile on her lips. She looked at the painting, her eyes filled with admiration and a hint of curiosity.

"Another masterpiece, I see," she said, stepping inside. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you, Mommy," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at her praise. "I love how this one is turning out."

Wanda moved closer, her eyes scanning the canvas. "It's peaceful. I hope it stays that way."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind her words. Many of your paintings had foreseen conflicts and challenges, but this one felt different. It was calm, serene—a welcome change.

"I wanted to create something peaceful," you said softly. "Something that reminds us of the beauty in the world."

Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You've done more than that, sweetheart. You've given us hope."

You looked up at her, seeing the genuine affection in her eyes. "I just paint what I see."

"And what you see is a gift," she replied, her voice tender. "Never forget that."

You turned back to the painting, adding a few final touches to the sunlight filtering through the trees. Wanda stayed by your side, watching in silence. The bond between you had grown stronger, and you felt more at peace than you had in a long time.

As the day turned to evening, you and Wanda walked back to the cottage together, the warmth of her presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Life with your Goddess and Mommy was a delicate balance, but it was one filled with love, understanding, and a shared sense of purpose.

Inside the cottage, the fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. You settled by Wanda's feet, leaning into her as she stroked your hair, the familiar feeling of safety and belonging washing over you. No matter what the future held, you knew you would face it together, drawing strength from the love that bound you all.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 8

Authors Note: I really hope you guys like this chapterrrrr, we are finally getting to the good part of this series and I am SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!! I hope you guys are liking the direction of this series, and i think this chapter adds some long-awaited spice...

You guys have given me so much support since re-joining Tumblr as a writer, so I wanted to give back to y'all by hosting a giveaway event! Here are the details for those interested: SimplyGojo1K

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : After Mahito shows up, y/n and the first years are forced to fight him, but somehow, he recognizes y/n, and toys with her. Meanwhile, after frustrating Gojo beyond his threshold, you two have a heated argument about what it is you're doing...

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: mention of d*eath, light smut (👀 )

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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*link to the ch.8 teaser if you'd like to read that before hand*

You hadn’t seen a curse that looked so human-like before. Despite that, though, his figure still oozed an errieness that you felt at your core.

“I get to fight my natural enemy, Yuji Itadori, the famous Satoru Gojo…and you… the new experiment…I don’t think I can touch your soul…but oh god, I wonder how your soul feels, y/n y/l/n,” he purred, his voice dripping with twisted curiosity. 

“Oh, this will be so fun!” His grin widened, and for a second, you thought you saw a flicker of something darker, something far more dangerous than his playful demeanour. 

His gaze flitted between the group, but it kept landing back on you.

“Let’s see how well you break.” 

The curse’s grin stretched wider, and the next moment, he lunged with terrifying speed, targeting Yuji with a flurry of vicious attacks. 

The group immediately scattered, their instincts kicking in as they took defensive stances.

“Yuji, Megumi—split off and handle the cursed spirits!” Gojo’s voice was sharp, his usual playful edge completely absent as his eyes followed the curse’s movements. 

“Nobara, keep your distance and strike from range.”

You barely registered Gojo’s commands, your heart pounding as the curse turned toward you again, its eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. 

It came for you next, a blur of motion that sent you skidding back, blocking a strike aimed at your chest with your shield technique.

His voice slithered in your mind, almost a whisper. 

“Let’s see how far you can push that little black flame inside you.”

Your breath hitched, and your eyes widened with the meaning of his words—the mention of your cursed energy triggered a sharp spike of fear and anger. You felt the power of the black energy—stirred, unbidden, a dark pulse echoing inside you.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you hissed, channelling your blue cursed energy into a defensive barrier, pushing back against the curse’s oppressive aura.

Gojo, Yuji, and Megumi engaged in a barrage of attacks, Yuji charging forward with his fists, while Megumi summoned his Shikigami to overwhelm the cursed spirits. 

The battlefield turned chaotic in an instant, the clash of cursed techniques lighting up the space with terrifying intensity.

But the curse was unrelenting. He deflected every blow with disturbing ease, his eyes flicking back to you as if waiting, watching for the right moment.

“Y/n, get back!” Gojo’s voice cut through the chaos, but you were already too deep into the fight, your cursed energy swirling out of control. 

The blue shield you’d summoned started flickering, and before you could stabilize it, a dark, familiar surge erupted from within you.

The black energy shot from your fingertips—wild, unrestrained. You gasped, the force of it ripping through the air and slamming into the patch-faced curse with an impact that shook the ground. 

But instead of retreating, the curse laughed, absorbing the blow like it was nothing.

“Wow, impressive!” The patch-faced curse voiced with satisfaction, and a terrifying grin grew on his lips. “You’ve got more control of that curse than I thought you would.”

Gojo’s eyes darted to you, frustration flickering in his usually calm expression. “Alright.” He said matter-of-factly.

“We’re done here. I’m taking you back to the school.”

You turned toward him, disbelief and anger flaring in your chest. 

“What? We can’t just leave! We could get more information from him!”

“This isn’t a game, y/n,” Gojo snapped, his eyes narrowing, the weight of his presence crashing down on you like a tidal wave. 

“We’re not getting anything useful from him right now, he’s just muttering bullshit, and you’re out of control.”

Your hands clenched into fists, the sting of his harsh words pushing you further. 

“I’m not out of control—I can handle this! We’re finally getting closer to the truth, and you want to just leave?!”

The curse let out a low chuckle, as if enjoying the conflict. “Oh, I’m happy to stay and watch this unfold…”

Gojo’s patience visibly thinned, his jaw tightening as his frustration mounted. 

“This isn’t up for debate. I’m not risking your life over—”

“I’m not leaving!” Your voice broke through the tension, your stubbornness ignited by a mix of fear and anger. 

“If we run now, we might not get another chance! I want to know more!”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw a rare flicker of something intense behind his normally teasing eyes. 

“What…do you want to die?” His voice was low, sharp, cutting through your defiance like a blade.

You froze, the question hanging in the air between you. His words echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his gaze—an emotion you couldn’t quite place, something far deeper than just frustration. 

Your eyes searched his, darting back and forth as you fought your emotions. 

The curse, however, was far from done. “Ooh, this is getting interesting,” it purred, lunging at Yuji again, forcing everyone back into action. Gojo let out a grunt in frustration. 

Yuji and Megumi were locked in combat with the cursed spirits. Nobara’s nails flew through the air, striking from a distance, but even her attacks weren’t enough to slow the curse down.

And yet, the curse kept coming back to you.

The curse’s laughter rang in your ears as it lunged at you again, its movements swift and relentless. You dodged another strike, barely managing to evade its claws, but you could feel your blue energy faltering, weakening with each second.

Then, you felt it—the black energy surging up again, darker, more sinister than ever before. It clawed at your mind, tugging at your very core as if it wanted to consume you. 

But this time, instead of retreating from it, you let it in.

With a sudden, sharp clarity, you pointed your fingers into the shape of a gun, your black cursed energy coiling at your fingertips like a loaded weapon. A strange calm settled over you as you aimed directly at the patch-faced curse.

Without thinking, you pulled the imaginary trigger.

A sharp, piercing bolt of black cursed energy shot from your fingers, cutting through the air with terrifying speed. The curse didn’t even have time to react. 

The attack slammed into his chest with a resounding crack, piercing clean through his body.

The curse’s grin faltered, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbled back, blood oozing from the gaping hole in his chest. The air around you went still, the intensity of the blow leaving everyone momentarily stunned.

Even Gojo’s eyes flickered with a flash of surprise.

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara froze, their battle with the cursed spirits halting as they stared at the scene in shock. 

The power, the precision—none of them had seen you unleash anything like that before.

The curse coughed, blood dripping from his lips as he glared at you. 

"Well...this just got interesting," he muttered, his voice rasping with pain, but he quickly healed himself.

The black energy still crackled at your fingertips, wild and uncontrollable. You could feel it pulling at you again, urging you to strike once more, but before you could lift your hands again, Gojo was suddenly in front of you.

His voice was hard, all traces of playfulness gone. “You’re staying behind me from now on, got it?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity of his gaze stopped you cold. He wasn’t playing around anymore, so you just nodded in response.

The battle raged on around you, but Gojo’s words rooted you to the spot, the weight of them sinking in deeper than you’d expected. 

Before you could respond, the curse launched another attack, this one aimed directly at both of you.

Gojo stepped forward, his cursed energy flaring like a bright blue star, his power surging in response. 

“Enough games.” He raised a single hand and spoke loudly, as a blue orb appeared in his palm, aimed at the curse in front of you. 

The patch-faced creature stopped in its tracks and smiled sheepishly.

“I do not have a death wish, plus this was just for fun!” The curse muttered. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon y/n y/l/n,” he said enthusiastically before slithering into the shadows, disappearing into the distance.

The battlefield went quiet, minus the heavy breathing of your teammates. 

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your heart still racing, your body trembling from the surge of energy coursing through you.

Gojo turned to you, his expression cold. “We’re leaving.”

You nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no more room for argument. He hadn’t really been upset with you before, but you couldn't stop yourself from worrying. 

Was he mad at you? And why did you care so much?

—

Gojo had teleported all five of you back to the school, although it wasn’t overly safe for you there either at this point. 

“There is way too much happening right now,” Megumi said, his tone stressed as he ran his hand through his black hair. 

“First y/n’s execution and now that thing popping back up?” 

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. Your execution—an event that had loomed over your head for what felt like forever—suddenly felt very real again. You could see the tension rippling through the group as the reality of the situation set in.

Yuji shifted uncomfortably beside you, his usual lighthearted demeanour subdued, his eyes downcast as if he was trying to process everything that had happened. 

“We can’t even catch a break long enough to figure out what’s going on.”

Nobara crossed her arms tightly, her jaw clenched. 

“You think they’re connected?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Y/n’s execution order, that curse... it’s all happening too fast to be a coincidence.”

Gojo, who had been silent up until this point, leaned against the wall, his eyes hidden behind his usual blindfold. 

Despite his casual stance, you could feel the tension radiating off him, the weight of everything pressing down on even him. 

He tilted his head slightly, “You’re not wrong, Nobara. Nothing’s ever a coincidence in this world.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Then what are we dealing with?” Megumi asked, his voice cutting through the silence again. “We barely got out of that fight with him, and now we’re back here with no answers. I really don’t think this is just about y/n anymore.”

His words struck you like a blow to the gut. 

He was right. It wasn’t just about you—it was about everything, all of it spiralling out of control. 

The cursed energy within you, the execution order, the curse you’d just fought. They were pieces of a larger puzzle, but the picture they formed was still out of reach.

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to suppress the surge of frustration welling up inside you.

“We need answers,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. 

“We need to figure out why they want me dead and why that curse is after us. If they’re connected, we—”

“What we need,” Gojo interrupted, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge, “is to keep you alive first. You’re not gonna find answers if you’re dead, y/n.”

His words were harsh, but there was a thread of concern woven through them, barely masked by his usual casual tone. 

He was right, of course. But the helplessness of the situation clawed at you, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

“And what if staying alive isn’t enough anymore?” You shot back, your frustration boiling over. 

“What if there’s more going on here? More than just me being executed or this curse showing up? I can’t just sit back and wait for things to get worse!”

Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his eyes on you, his posture stiffening slightly. 

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I haven’t been trying to figure this out too?”

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara stood frozen for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden shift in Gojo’s demeanour. 

Yuji, always the one to break awkward silences, glanced between the two of you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh…maybe,” he muttered, “maybe we should… give you guys a minute?”

Megumi shot Yuji a pointed look, one that clearly said, ‘You think?’ but he didn’t say anything, instead taking a step toward the door. 

His hand was already on the handle, though he hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder.

Nobara, however, wasn’t one to leave quietly. 

She raised an eyebrow at the tense exchange between you and Gojo, eyes darting from one to the other. 

“Yeah, okay, we’ll just… be outside. Probably for a while,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she followed Megumi to the door.

Yuji shot you a sympathetic look, then glanced at Gojo as if he wanted to say something more, but ultimately thought better of it.

—

The silence that followed was almost deafening, and now that the others were gone, the room felt larger and more suffocating all at once. 

You were left standing there, face to face with Gojo, his presence overwhelming as he continued to watch you, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

You could feel the tension, thick and unrelenting, making it hard to breathe. His normally light-hearted energy was nowhere to be found, replaced with a hardness that made your heart race, though not in the way it usually did around him.

“You don’t get it,” you finally snapped, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered the frustration that had been building all day now spilling out. 

“I’m not just some liability, I can help—We need information, and I can get it!”

Gojo’s jaw clenched, the lines of frustration between his eyebrows tightening as his hands balled into fists at his sides. 

His eyes narrowed, his blindfold hanging around his neck as his eyes searched yours, but you didn’t need to see them to know he was glaring at you.

“This isn’t about you helping,” he shot back, his tone sharp and biting. 

“This is about you doing something reckless—again. You think I don’t know that you’re strong? You think I don’t know how far you’ve come? But that dark energy—you don’t know what it is…and you’re just charging ahead like it’s nothing, like you don’t care if it kills you!”

You flinched at his words, but your anger only flared hotter. 

“You’re right, I don’t care about that! I care about figuring out what's wrong with me! That way, I won’t be just another weak burden in this world, and then maybe I will be able to help people! We don’t have time to be cautious!”

Gojo took a big step towards you, his posture growing even more rigid. 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!” His voice rose, a rare outburst of emotion that caught you off guard. You were a mere inches apart now, both of your faces washed over with anger.

“This isn’t about the greater good, y/n…and for the record, you have never, not once, been a burden to anyone here. This is about you! You think I don’t see what’s happening? You’re spiralling, and you’re using this ‘burden’ thing as an excuse!”

You stared at him, stunned by the sudden intensity of his words. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are!” He cut you off, leaning his body towards yours, making the already small space between you smaller. You felt the heat of his anger grow hotter as he spoke. 

“And it’s going to get you killed! You think I can just stand there and watch that happen? You think I’ll let you throw yourself into danger just to prove a point?”

“I’m not proving a point!” You shouted back, your frustration boiling over. 

“I’m doing what needs to be done because we need to act now!”

Gojo’s eyes flashed with something dangerous, something raw. His lips pulled into a tight line, and for a moment, you could see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“You want to die? Is that it?” He growled, his voice dropping lower, full of barely contained fury. 

“Because that’s what’s going to happen if you keep acting like this. And then what? You die ‘n I’ll have to bury you too?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind from your lungs. You hadn’t expected this—not from him. Your eyes were wide with shock, like a dear in headlights.

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out, the weight of his words sinking in, leaving you breathless. 

For a moment, he searched your eyes, and you searched his. 

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. Gojo’s usual aloofness was gone, replaced by something raw and exposed. 

You had seen him frustrated, playful, even protective—but this was different. 

This was personal.

You swallowed hard, trying to form words, but your mind was spinning. “Satoru…I-” you started, but your voice faltered. 

You had never seen him like this, never thought he could be this vulnerable with you.

The tension in the room thickened as his voice, once sharp and biting, softened.

"You don’t get it," he continued, his tone no longer laced with irritation but with a vulnerability you rarely saw from him. Emotion clung to every word, weighed down with a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I’ve lost people before. Too many.” He paused, his jaw clenched as if wrestling with the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. His eyes squeezed shut briefly, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air between you. 

“But losing you—” His voice faltered. He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence, as if the mere thought was unbearable.

A lump rose in your throat, and you swallowed hard, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The look in his eyes wasn’t just frustration or anger. No, it was something deeper—something raw and unguarded. 

Fear. 

You saw fear flickering in his gaze like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. Not just any fear—fear of loss, fear of exposing himself, of being vulnerable in front of you.

The realization hit you like a wave crashing over your head. How much he had been holding back, how carefully he had concealed the depths of his care for you.

“I didn’t realize…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, shaky from the emotions swirling inside you. 

Your pulse was racing, pounding so loudly that you wondered if he could hear it too. 

"I didn’t know I was that important to you."

Gojo exhaled a rough breath, its warmth brushing against your skin as he leaned in closer. His face was so near now that you could see every detail, every fine line and imperfection that made him so infuriatingly perfect. 

His striking blue eyes, unobscured by his blindfold, bore into yours, the silver strands of his hair falling messily across his forehead. It was as if time had stopped, and all you could focus on was him.

“Yeah, well, now you do,” he muttered, his voice rough around the edges, but not without that familiar sarcasm. 

His hand hovered just above your arm, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch you, to ground himself in your presence, but something held him back. 

His restraint, however, only made the moment feel more intimate, more charged.

“So stop acting like your life doesn’t matter," he continued, the frustration still there but overshadowed by something raw, something real. 

His voice wavered, just slightly, as if the emotion threatening to spill over was too much even for him to hold back. "Because it does. It matters to me."

The weight of his words crashed into you, heavier than any curse you’d ever faced. 

There was no bravado left in his voice, no shield of humour to deflect from his feelings. Just honesty. Sincerity.

The air between you felt electric, as if every unsaid word, every unexpressed emotion was swirling around you, charging the space with a thick tension. 

Neither of you moved, and yet everything felt different now—more fragile, more real.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the electricity in the scant space separating you. His closeness was overwhelming—every sense attuned to him and him alone.

You felt the weight of what he wasn’t saying, all the fear and pain buried beneath his flippant exterior. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the sounds of the school fading into the background. 

The tension hung thick in the air, undeniable and almost suffocating.

You blinked, trying to steady your breath. 

‘Say something,’ you urged yourself, but the words caught in your throat. 

His familiar scent—clean with a hint of something warm and intoxicating—enveloped you, making it hard to think clearly. 

The way his eyes searched yours, earnest and unguarded, sent a shiver down your spine.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. 

The air seemed to grow warmer, the silence stretching on as neither of you moved. The unspoken tension was nearly tangible, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

“Satoru,” you finally managed, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Damn it y/n, there ya’ go again, sayin’ my name like that…” His voice was a low murmur, thick with something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your pulse race.

Before you could make sense of the moment, Gojo closed the distance between you with a swift step, so sudden and forceful that it stole the breath from your lungs. 

Your eyes widened in shock, your body freezing for a brief second as the reality of what was happening hit you—but only for a moment. 

The warmth of his lips, the undeniable pull between you, melted away your hesitation. You responded instinctively, your body moving on its own as you leaned into him, your lips moulding perfectly to his, moving in sync like you had been waiting for this all along.

His movements were charged, deliberate, as if the restraint he’d been so desperately clinging to for so long had finally snapped.

His hand found the back of your head, pulling you into him. His lips crashed into yours with an intensity that made your head spin, heat coursing through you from the sudden contact. 

The kiss was anything but gentle—it was raw, heated, desperate. 

It felt like he had been holding this back for far too long, and now, all the pent-up emotion, the frustration, the desire—it poured into that kiss, overwhelming every one of your senses.

His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him as though he couldn’t get close enough. 

His touch was firm, possessive—fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours. 

Your own hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt for balance as your knees grew weak under the weight of the moment. 

The world around you blurred, fading into nothing but the sensation of that beautiful blue-eyed man—his lips pressing insistently against yours.

The way his fingers tangled in your hair, the intoxicating taste of his mouth—It was overwhelming. 

A small gasp escaped you, and Gojo took advantage, deepening the kiss. 

His tongue brushed against yours, and the sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure to your core, making you press closer to him. 

The heat between you was almost unbearable, the electric tension crackling in the air as his hand slid from your waist down to the small of your back, pulling you even tighter against him.

You let yourself give in to it. You kissed him back with equal fervour, hands moving up to his neck, fingers grazing the soft skin just under his jaw.

You felt him groan into your mouth, the sound low and vibrating against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His grip on your hair tightened, tugging you impossibly closer, and his arms wrapped around your body, every rational thought dissolving under the sheer force of what was happening.

The air between you was hot, charged with a need that neither of you could ignore anymore. 

His hands roamed, one sliding down your back, fingers pressing into the curve of your spine, the other still in your hair, holding you firmly in place as though he was afraid you might slip away. 

Each touch ignited something deeper within you, something that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long.

Gojo pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded as they searched your face. 

His breath came out in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you could feel his warm breath on your lips. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavy in the air between you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pained. “But damn it, y/n… I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean something to me.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to regain your composure as your mind raced, still reeling from the kiss. 

The warmth of his body was intoxicating, and you could feel the tautness of his muscles beneath your fingertips as your hands rested on his chest, a reminder of the intensity of the moment. 

“Satoru, I—” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words caught in your throat, tangled in the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

Just then, the door swung open, and a familiar voice broke through the heavy silence like a sudden downpour, startling you both. 

“Gojo-sensei!” He shouted, and your heart dropped as you instinctively took a dramatic step away from Gojo, a rosy wave of shame flooding your cheeks. 

Your eyes fell to the floor, unable to meet either of theirs, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave.

Yuji’s expression was a mix of confusion and shock, the realization of what he had stumbled upon clear in his wide eyes. 

Yet, being the kind-hearted person he was, he chose not to address the tension hanging in the air. Instead, he fumbled with his words, glancing nervously between you and Gojo. 

“Uh, um, I’m not sure if this is helpful, but Megumi said the clan elders and higher-ups are gathering in the big meeting hall,” he said, his tone almost sheepish. 

“He, uh, said it might be important.”

The awkwardness of the moment lingered, but the urgency of Yuji’s news snapped you both back to reality. 

You could sense the tension still coiling between you and Gojo, an unspoken promise hanging in the air, but the pressing matters at hand demanded your attention.

Gojo’s jaw tightened as he took a step back, shaking off the weight of the moment you had just shared. The fire in his eyes reignited, and his voice was low and menacing. 

“I’m putting an end to their shit, now.”

Before you could process what he meant, he teleported, the air crackling with energy in his wake, leaving you and Yuji standing in the aftermath of the charged atmosphere.

—

The silence that followed felt heavy, thick with the unspoken tension from the moment you had just shared with Gojo. 

You turned to Yuji, who looked equally startled, his eyes wide and glancing towards the door where Gojo had just vanished.

“Wow, uh…” he began, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Looks like things got… a bit heated with Gojo-sensei, huh?”

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, heart racing as the memory of the kiss replayed in your mind. 

“Huh? Uhm, Yuji…” you stammered, desperately trying to collect your thoughts. You felt exposed—like every little detail of that moment was on display for him to see.

Before you could find your footing, Nobara burst into the room, her eyes bright with curiosity. 

“What’s going on in here? Where’s Gojo-sensei?” She asked, scanning the room.

Yuji shot you a knowing look, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned closer to Nobara. 

“Y/n and Gojo-sensei had a heated moment…” Your eyes widened in horror, panic rushing through you. “Yuji, don’t—”

“Oh my god! You kissed Gojo-sensei? Ew!” Nobara exclaimed, dramatically pressing her hands to her cheeks. 

“That’s so gross!”

You felt your face heat up even more, the embarrassment flooding through you. 

“It’s not like that!” You blurted out, crossing your arms defensively. “It was… it was nothing!”

Yuji laughed, folding over with amusement. 

“Nothing? You mean a legendary make-out session with the strongest sorcerer in the world?” His laughter echoed off the walls, and you couldn’t help but sink further into your embarrassment. 

Your hands flew up to cover your face, barely peaking through your fingers.

Nobara chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready for all the rumours that are about to fly around Jujutsu High. You might as well be his girlfriend now!”

“Stop it! You guys are making it sound so much worse than it is!” You protested, covering your face with your hands as if that could shield you from their teasing. “It was n-o-t-h-i-n-g!”

Yuji leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “I bet Gojo-sensei is already telling everyone how he has a crush on you!”

Nobara burst into laughter, and you could feel your heart thumping in your chest, a mix of mortification and amusement washing over you. 

“Can you imagine? The strongest sorcerer in the world is crushing on Y/n! That’s something out of a romance novel!”

“Guys, please!” You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your ears. 

“You’re not making this any easier for me! I have to go!” You quickly made your way to the doorway, squeezing between your two friends as they made smooching sounds in your face.

—

Meanwhile, in the meeting hall, Gojo materialized in an instant, his presence instantly commanding attention. The atmosphere shifted as he entered, a palpable tension hanging in the air.

The room fell silent, the elders seated at a long table exchanging wary glances. Their expressions shifted from surprise to concern, knowing all too well the gravity of his arrival.

“Gojo, this isn’t the time for—” Gakuganji began, his voice shaky, but Gojo cut him off, stepping forward with a fierce intensity that radiated through the room.

“Let’s not dance around the fact that I will kill you if you don’t get your heads out of your asses and deal with this situation properly.” His tone was deadly serious, stripped of the usual playful arrogance that defined him. 

“There is no valid reason for you to execute y/n y/l/n, other than the fact that you’re all weak...”

The elders shifted uncomfortably, unease settling into their expressions as Gojo continued, his voice rising with each word. 

“Y/n is not a pawn in your games. She’s more important than you realize, and I won’t let you sacrifice her or anyone else to further your twisted agendas.”

As he stood there, his aura crackling with barely contained rage, the room felt suffocating. Gojo’s fury was palpable; the energy radiating from him made it clear that he meant every word. 

The higher-ups fidgeted, their confidence faltering under the weight of his glare.

“I don’t care about your political bullshit or whatever plans you’ve concocted. If you do not call off her execution, then you’ll have to answer to me.” His eyes narrowed dangerously, the challenge unmistakable in his gaze.

Naobito Zenin finally spoke, his voice strong but laced with obvious caution. “Satoru, you know we have to consider all—”

“Consider this,” Gojo interrupted, his voice like ice, cutting through the tension. 

“You have one chance to make things right, or I will ensure your names are nothing but footnotes in history. You think you’re safe behind your titles? Think again.”

The atmosphere grew thicker as his words sank in, the elders exchanging nervous glances, their authority slipping. Gojo stood tall and unwavering, like a soldier ready to fight for what he believed in.

“You think I won’t do it?” He challenged, his voice low and menacing. 

“You underestimate me. I have no qualms about tearing down this entire institution if it means keeping y/n safe. Make your choice—now!”

The room fell into stunned silence, every eye locked on him. Gojo’s resolve was a force of nature, and there was no turning back now. He was ready to go to war for you, no matter the cost.

“Please, Satoru,” one of the older higher-ups pleaded, voice trembling. 

“We must consider the bigger picture. This isn’t just about y/n; it’s about maintaining order—”

“Order?” Gojo spat, his tone incredulous. 

“You think maintaining your precious order is worth sacrificing her life? You’re all blinded by your own self-interest.”

The atmosphere shifted as unease morphed into fear. 

The elders looked at each other, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. They had underestimated Gojo, and now he stood before them like a storm, ready to unleash chaos if they didn’t relent.

After what felt like an eternity, principle Gakuganji took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Alright, Satoru. You’ve made your point,” he said, his voice steadying slightly. “We’ll… we’ll call off the execution. For now.”

Gojo’s expression did not falter, still wary. “For now? If I hear you’re plotting anything against her again—”

“I understand,” Gakuganji quickly interrupted, raising his hands in a placating gesture. 

“We will reevaluate the situation. I promise you, we won’t proceed with the execution. We will take the necessary time to assess everything properly.”

Gojo held his gaze, his expression fierce and unyielding. “You’d better keep your word. If I find out otherwise, you will regret it.”

With a final, lingering look, Gojo turned on his heel, the tension in the room finally beginning to dissipate as he walked out. 

The elders sat in silence, shaken and unsure, realizing that they had narrowly avoided a catastrophic fallout.

Outside, Gojo exhaled, his relief tainted by a simmering anger that refused to fade. He wouldn’t allow you to become a casualty of their twisted politics. 

You weren’t just another sorcerer to protect—you were someone who mattered deeply to him, far more than he’d ever thought.

Whatever darkness loomed ahead, at least he had managed to put an end to the execution order—for now.

But in his gut, he knew this fight was far from over.

[rosesareredrosa]

Shields of the Heart

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: based on this ask thank you anon <33

w/c: 1.2k

The chaos of the Battle of Hogwarts raged around you, the once-familiar corridors now echoing with the sounds of battle—shouts, screams, and the crackle of spellfire. Your heart raced as you sprinted through the castle, searching desperately for your friends, praying that they were safe.

You rounded a corner, skidding to a stop as your breath caught in your throat. There, standing amidst the dust and debris, was Theo Nott. His sharp features were drawn with worry, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/N!" he breathed out, his voice a mixture of relief and fear.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the shadows of a nearby alcove. His grip was firm, protective, as he scanned the corridor for any signs of danger. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice low and urgent. "You should be with the others, somewhere safe."

"I couldn’t just leave," you whispered, trying to steady your breathing. "I had to make sure you were okay."

Theo's expression softened, but there was still a hint of frustration in his eyes. "Y/N, this isn’t your fight. You shouldn’t be risking your life like this."

"But it is my fight, Theo," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Everything I care about is at stake here. I won’t stand by and do nothing."

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them again, they were filled with a fierce determination. "Then stay with me. I’ll protect you."

You looked up at him, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. In that moment, with the castle crumbling around you and danger lurking at every corner, you realized just how much Theo meant to you. He wasn’t just a friend or an ally; he was someone you couldn’t bear to lose.

"Together then," you said softly, reaching out to take his hand.

Theo nodded, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you closer. "Together," he echoed, a promise in his voice.

The two of you moved as one, navigating the chaos of the battle with your wands at the ready. Theo was constantly at your side, his protective nature evident in every move he made. He deflected curses that came too close, his focus unwavering as he ensured your safety.

Suddenly, a sharp voice echoed through the corridor. "There they are!"

Before you could react, a jet of green light shot toward you, but Theo was faster. He yanked you out of the way, both of you tumbling to the ground as the curse missed you by inches. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as you scrambled to your feet, Theo pulling you behind him.

A Death Eater stepped out of the shadows, a cruel smile twisting his lips. His wand was raised, his eyes gleaming with malice as he advanced toward you. "You think you can protect her, Nott?" he sneered. "You should have picked a better side."

Theo’s jaw clenched, his body tense as he positioned himself between you and the Death Eater. "You won’t touch her," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The Death Eater let out a harsh laugh. "Brave words for a traitor," he spat. Without warning, he flicked his wand, sending a barrage of curses your way.

Theo reacted instantly, raising his own wand to cast a powerful Shield Charm that absorbed the brunt of the attack. But the force of it still sent you both staggering backward. Theo’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly as he shot a glance over his shoulder.

"Y/N, stay behind me," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you tried to steady your breathing. But the Death Eater was relentless, his attacks growing more vicious with each passing second. You watched as Theo fought with everything he had, his focus entirely on keeping you safe.

Then, in a moment of desperation, the Death Eater fired a particularly deadly curse, one that even Theo’s Shield Charm couldn’t fully deflect. The force of it sent you both crashing to the ground, your back slamming against the cold stone floor.

Pain shot through your body, but before you could even register it, Theo was there, pulling you into his arms and shielding you with his body. "Theo!" you gasped, panic rising in your chest as you saw the determination in his eyes.

"I won’t let anything happen to you," he whispered fiercely, his voice trembling with emotion. He pushed himself to his feet, pulling you up with him as he faced the Death Eater once more.

With a snarl, the Death Eater raised his wand to strike again, but this time, Theo was ready. His movements were swift, almost a blur as he cast a stunning spell that caught the Death Eater off guard, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

For a moment, there was silence, the Death Eater lying unconscious on the floor. Theo’s breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he turned to you, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, filled with worry.

You nodded, still shaken but grateful beyond words. "Thanks to you," you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out to touch his arm.

Theo exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing slightly as he pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his head resting against yours as he closed his eyes. "I’m not letting you out of my sight," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Not for a second."

You held onto him, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that had been growing between you for a long time. In the midst of the battle, with danger all around, Theo had been your shield, your protector. And you knew that no matter what happened next, you would face it together.

After a moment, Theo pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. "We need to keep moving," he said, his voice steadier now, though his gaze was still intense. "There could be more of them."

You nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "I’m ready."

As the two of you turned to leave, you caught sight of a figure moving in the shadows behind Theo. Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized another Death Eater was aiming directly at him.

“No!” you shouted, pushing Theo out of the way just as a curse shot toward him. You quickly raised your wand, blocking the curse with a hastily cast Shield Charm. The Death Eater snarled, clearly angered by your intervention, and launched another spell at you.

This time, you were ready. With a flick of your wand, you deflected the curse back at him, sending him stumbling back. In that moment, Theo was on his feet again, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fear and admiration as he joined you in the fight. Together, you disarmed the Death Eater, forcing him to retreat.

Breathing heavily, you turned to Theo, who was staring at you with an intense, almost unreadable expression. “You saved me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you either,” you replied softly, stepping closer to him.

Theo’s hand found yours, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, his grip strong and reassuring. “We’re in this together,” he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “No matter what.”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the strength of his resolve and knowing it matched your own.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Idk if ur asks are open but if they are do u know the meme of the owner tht came home drunk and gave her cat lipstick marks (if not; https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/came-home-drunk-and-got-way-too-excited-to-see-my-cat). could u maybe write something where reader comes home drunk and Lewis reacts to seeing roscoe with those marks next morning? Thank u 🫶🏻!

Hello!!

Bestie, I loved this request, thinking about Roscoe and how silly Lewis acts around him always gets me to smile.

Sorry it took this long, but I hope you like it ❤️

____________________________________________________________

The sudden aroma of food caused your stomach to churn as your sleep-induced haze began to fade. A warm hand rubbed the small of your back as you turned on the sofa, almost losing your balance in the process.

"Evening, sleeping beauty," Lewis's soft chuckle filled the room, his voice seeming louder in your head than it was meant to as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light.

"What time is it?" you grumbled, trying to shield yourself from the daylight with the throw pillows scattered around you.

"It's almost 2 p.m., love," Lewis replied, his voice low as he handed you a cup of coffee and gently caressed your arms.

"Come on, I brought soup for lunch. You need to eat something."

He extended his hand to help you up, anticipating the dizzy spell that caused him to pull you close to his chest.

"I don’t think I'm going to keep anything down today," you admitted.

"I take it the night was good?" Lewis asked, amused by the way your nose wrinkled at the scent of the soup.

"You know how y/f/n's parties tend to get a bit over the top," you replied with a smile, recalling the antics from your friend's girls-only birthday celebration.

"Is that why you slept on the sofa? And why Roscoe looked like this?" Lewis's amusement was evident as he showed you a photo on his phone.

It took you a moment to realize the photo was actually an Instagram post. The caption read, "I'ms mom's favorites," with Roscoe nestled between your legs, snoring peacefully, his face and head covered in your lipstick.

"You did not post that on Instagram," you exclaimed, turning to see Lewis's innocent smile.

"Roscoe did," he shrugged, attempting to deflect the blame.

"I missed him, okay?" Your smirk and narrowed eyes making your intentions clear, if Lewis got to have fun with the situation, so did you.

"Oh, only him, I suppose?" Lewis teased back, rising from his seat and wrapping his hands around your waist, lifting you onto the kitchen island and showering your neck with kisses.

A snoring Roscoe brought your attention back to the room. "I think we're interrupting his beauty sleep," you giggled as Lewis scooped you up again, this time carrying you both to the bedroom.

[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined———————————

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8

MDNI——————————————————

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid

summary: in which jason gideon’s daughter joins the fbi as the newest, brightest member

warnings: soft dom spencer, sub oc, making out in a bathroom, spencer & aaron being simps, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, fingering, dirty talk, yeah!

Chapter Seven:

Evelyn's eyes flickered open, greeted by the relentless dawn light that pierced the room. The alarm's persistent drone became a mere backdrop to the blissful haze that wrapped around her, a lingering afterglow of the night before that made her thighs clench at the thought. Extending a lazy stretch, her fingers roaming over the sheets, half-expecting to brush against Spencer's familiar warmth. A cool absence greeted her instead that snapped her back to reality, her heart dropped with a dense thud. 

She bolted upright, the sheets clutched to her chest like a shield, her mind a whirlwind of questions that demanded answers. Did he regret it? Was it not as good for him as it was for her? In the quiet of the room, her confusion found an echo, intensifying the sense of abandonment that snaked its way up her spine, panic beginning to take hold. The memories of his touch faded into the hazy idea of a dream, leaving her exposed, her defenses crumbling to nothing.

Evelyn rose, her body moving on autopilot, as she prepared for the day. Securing her badge to her waist, she felt a wave of dread wash over her, the inevitable encounter with Spencer looming over her head.    

Evelyn made her way down the stairs, each step tentative, as she entered the lobby. Morning light spilled through the windows, painting long, somber shadows. JJ was there, her blonde hair reflecting the sun's rays like a halo, her posture exuding her calm authority as she conversed quietly with Hotch. He stood with his back to the light, his sharp silhouette and eyes scanning the room as he spoke.

Evelyn felt a twinge of relief upon noticing Spencer's absence; she wasn't ready to face him. For now, she welcomed the reprieve, allowing herself a moment to gather her thoughts. JJ's observant eyes were quick to detect the change in Evelyn's demeanor. 

"Good morning!" Evelyn announced with a chirp, her tone light and breezy, as she flashed her practiced smile and wave.

"Morning, Evie," JJ greets with a warm smile, her voice carrying a hint of concern, "How'd you sleep?"

 Evelyn's cheeks warmed at the memory, a flicker of awkwardness passing through her. "Oh, you know, the usual--battled my alarm clock, dreamed of paperwork, and won," she smiled, deflecting the attention. "Speaking of dreams, I bet Hotch was up all strategizing about our case, right?"

Hotch eyes narrowed slightly at Evelyn; his perceptive gaze told Evelyn he knew what she was trying to do. "Strategizing is a 24/7 job... and so is paperwork," he began. "Though, I try not to outsource it to the interns."

Evelyn's eyes widened in mock horror, her voice laced with feigned defensiveness. "It was one time! And for the record, I was strategically conserving energy... for more important tasks," she declared, her grin spreading across her face, as infectious as it was wide.

Hotch's response came with a barely perceptible smirk. "Whatever you say," he said, disbelief clear in this tone, yet his expression remained unreadable. "Let's head out."

Evelyn hurried after him, curiosity piqued. "Wait, how did you even know about that?"

Hotch continued forward, seemingly oblivious to Evelyn's struggle to keep up. Evelyn, in her attempt to match his stride, found herself almost jogging. 

"Let's just say, not all profilers need to profile to get their information," he hinted with a sidelong glance. "Some people," his eyes briefly flickered to Morgan, seated nonchalantly in the SUV, "just have a hard time keeping things to themselves."

With an overexaggerated eye roll, Evelyn grumbled, "Morgan and his big mouth," earning a burst of laughter from JJ. "How could he?"

The soft chuckle from Hotch was fleeting, but it was enough to spark a glow in Evelyn's eyes. She really loved that sound. "In his defense, he didn't know I was listening. Now, shall we?" He motioned towards the exit, holding the door open waiting for her to lead the way.

--

They stepped into the station to find it cloaked in a tension, the air heavy with the unspoken urgency of detectives eager for a lead and the simmering frustration of dead ends. 

As they arrived at the station, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation and the lingering frustration of a case at a standstill. Hotch guided the team through the precinct's doors, his face an unreadable mask as he moved through. 

They received a nod from Detective Martinez, his features etched with lines as deep as the arid crevices of the desert surrounding them.

"Travers?" Hotch asked, his tone direct and expectant.

Martinez's response came with a weary shake of his head, the furrows in his brow deepening into a map of frustration. "He's lawyered up. Won't say a word without his attorney present."

Hotch's voice cut through the silence. "Alright, let's regroup. There has to be something we're missing. Evelyn, find Spencer in the conference room. Go through the evidence again with fresh eyes."

Evelyn's heart vaulted in her chest, as if trying to escape. The idea of working in close quarters with Spencer was like standing at the edge of a cliff; it filled her with a dizzying rush of nervous energy that was hard to ignore. Maybe it would be better if someone just pushed her off. She nodded, schooling her face into composure. I can do hard things, she thought to herself, clutching her files, the soft thud of her footsteps accompanying her to the conference room.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the projector. Spencer was already there, his slender finger, the same one that had been in her hours prior, was sifting through the array of evidence before him. His brow furrowed in concentration, jaw set in a firm line, eyes narrowed in focus. God, it was hard for Evelyn to stay upset when he looked that good.

Prentiss stood by the window. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, darted from corner to corner, missing nothing. 

Evelyn's heart pounded as the memories of last night flooded her senses his fingers pounding inside her, the feeling of his lips on hers. Spencer didn't even flicker a gaze towards her, his concentration cemented on the sea of papers that sprawled across the table. It was as if nothing had happened.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Evelyn forced a smile. "So, what are we thinking? Any new angles we might have missed?" she asked, her voice a little too cheerful.

Spencer finally raised his head, his face a blank canvas hiding his thoughts. "We need to reexamine the timeline. There might be a pattern we overlooked."

With a thoughtful tap of her finger against her lips, Prentiss interjected, "And cross-reference the victims' backgrounds again. They all received the remote-control keys shortly before they were killed, but maybe there's more than just the keys linking them."

With a subtle shift in her stance acknowledging Spencer's imposing presence, Evelyn offered him a file. Her fingers brushed his ever so slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. "Look at this," she said. "One of the victims, Mr. Davidson, made several calls to Key Innovations customer service the day before he died. It could be nothing, but it's odd."

Spencer accepted the file, his touch lingering a moment too long. "It could indicate he was having issues with the key. Maybe it malfunctioned, or maybe it was tampered with."

Prentiss leaned in, her eyes darting across the document. "If he called customer service, there should be a record of the conversation. We need to get those tapes," she noted, already reaching for her phone. "I'm going to call the company, see what I can find."

Prentiss stepped out of the room, the click-clack of her heels on the floor punctuating her exit as she moved to make the call. With Prentiss gone, the room shrank, the quiet intensifying around Evelyn and Spencer as they sifted through the evidence, each rustle of paper amplifying the silence.

As Spencer extended his arm around Evelyn to retrieve a file, the closeness of his body sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. His hand grazed her hip in a steadying gesture, and the brief touch causes Evelyn's body to stiffen, stepping back as if she had been shocked.

Spencer's frown was quick to form as he noticed Evelyn's sudden retreat, a crease of concern etching his forehead. "Are you okay?"

Evelyn flashed a quick, wry smile, brushing off the moment. "I'm fine, just practicing my two-step for the next FBI ball," she joked, a lame attempt at deflecting.

"Evelyn," Spencer said, his tone soft yet firm.

Evelyn's response tumbled out in a rush. "So, I wake up and it's just me and the cold side of the bed, which, you know, is a bit confusing. And hey, if that is your way of saying 'it was a mistake,' that's cool. I'm a big girl, I've got my big girl socks on. Just rip the band-aid off quick, okay? I can take it."

Spencer's smirk was a slow slide of amusement. "Oh, I know you can take it," he teased, his voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the space between them.

He stepped closer, his presence encroaching on her personal bubble, making her heart race faster than she thought possible. As he backed her up, her hips met the edge of the table with a soft thud, his hands planting firmly on the surface to cage her in.

"I don't regret it at all," he confessed, his eyes locked on hers, "In fact, I've been thinking about it all day."

The air was thick with tension, their faces inches apart, breaths mingling, she could almost taste the mint on his tongue. But then, the sound of footsteps snapped the moment in two, and they sprang apart. Evelyn's cheeks burned with fluster, while Spencer just went back to his files. 

Just then, Hotch entered. "Another victim has been killed."

--

The team assembled at the crime scene, a desolate stretch just off the Arizona highway. The air was thick, not just with the scent of the desolation, but also with the oppressive heat. The sun bore down mercilessly on the abandoned car, its metal body almost mirroring the blaze.

Evelyn squinted against the relentless sun; her hand raised to shield her eyes. "Maybe Travers isn't our guy," she pondered aloud, her gaze methodically sweeping the scene.

Evelyn reached out, her fingers wrapping around Morgan's arm to guide him into position, his broad frame now casting a long shadow that shielded her from the sun's glare. "There, much better," she said.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, feigning indignation. "What am I, your personal sunshade now?"

"Only when you're not spilling my secrets to Hotch," Evelyn shot back, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "You're lucky I'm such a good sport, Evie."

"And you're lucky I don't have more dirt on you, Morgan," she retorted with a giggle, her gaze returning to the crime scene.

Hotch stepped in, sending a look of warning to the two agents. "Travers fits the profile too well to dismiss," he interjects, his gaze sweeping over the team. "Intelligent, meticulous, socially isolated, and motivated by a desire to be recognized. We can't overlook that."

The team fell into a contemplative silence, each member lost in thought until Prentiss arrived, her expression serious. "I talked with the company. Mr. Davidson was having issues with the remote. They sent a technician our to repair it," she announced, holding out a piece of paper with the name of the technician.

The team looked in to look at the name Prentiss had uncovered. Evelyn's mind raced. "Two different guys," she whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "One who plans, one who executes. It's a partnership."

--

In the observation room, Evelyn's gaze was fixed on the interrogation unfolding before her. Hotch's deliberate questions and Morgan's intense stare bore into Michael Harris, the technician, the focus of their scrutiny. His posture was rigid, defiant, but his eyes told a different story--a flicker of uncertainty passed through them as he kept his arms folded.

In the sterile light of the adjacent room, Reid's slender frame was hunched over the table, his fingers temped in thought. His boyish features, often softened by an air of absent-minded genius, were now sharpened. His eyes, a clear reflection of his mind's workings, flickered over Travers with a scary intensity. Prentiss stood beside him; her posture unwavering. Her dark hair was pulled back, accentuating her set jaw and calculating eyes.

Hotch stepped out, his eyes locking on Evelyn's. "These guys target what they perceive as privilege--wealth, beauty, the whole package" he explained, his voice a low rumble of contained frustration. "We need to shake him. Evelyn, I want you in there. Your profile... It'll strike a nerve."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. "Awh, Hotch, are you calling me beautiful? Careful, or I might start thinking it's part of the job description."

Hotch's response was immediate, his tone firm yet not unkind. "Agent," he scolded.

Evelyn's smile broadened for a fleeting moment before she nodded. "Alright, alright, I'm going. Time to see if Harris finds me as privileged as you do."

As she spun on her heel, she could practically hear the sound of Hotch's eyes rolling, his silent rebuke hanging in the air. Evelyn swept into the interrogation room, her confidence radiating like the steady glow of a lantern. Hotch's silent figure trailed behind her. Harris's discomfort was unmistakable as he met Evelyn's steady gaze, evident that her presence had unsettled him.

"Mr. Harris, we know about the visits to the victims' homes. You were the last one to see them alive." Hotch stated, the lines of his jaw tightening in sync with the syllables. The muscles in his arms flexed subtly, straining against the fabric of his dress shirt as he leaned forward. Evelyn, observing the interplay of muscle and material, had to mentally nudge herself back to the task at hand.

Morgan's voice was a low rumble, almost feral in its intensity as he leaned closer. "And let's not forget the convenient malfunctions that only you could fix."

With a graceful tilt of her head, Evelyn locked eyes with Harris. "Must be tough," she murmured, "going into those big, beautiful houses, seeing how the other half lives."

Harris's jaw tightened, muscles tensing in a visible display of restraint. "I did my job," he spat, the words forced out between clenched teeth.

"And you did it so well," she observed, her eyes not leaving his. "But tell me, Michael, did you enjoy having that power? Deciding who stayed locked in?"

Harris's gaze burned with a silent fury, a raw, seething hatred for the conventional beauty he believed had marginalized him. Evelyn's presence, her composure, it all seemed to amplify his rage, teetering him of the edge of outburst. And Evelyn knew this.

With a level gaze and a tone that left room for no argument, Hotch laid out the facts. "We know about the partnership," he said, each word deliberate, precise. "You and Travers had a system, didn't you?"

"He creates the problem, you fix it." Morgan stated pointedly, a verbal arrow pointed at Harris. "Only you're not fixing anything, are you?"

Evelyn's smile didn't reach her eyes; it was cold, calculated. "You're just the repairman, right? Or should I say the executioner?"

Harris's composure shattered, a visceral snarl ripping through his throat. "You don't know anything! You think you're something special with that pretty face?" he sneered, venom dripping from every word. "Bet you're just like the rest, sleeping their way to the top? Who'd you fuck to get this job, huh? The big boss man here?" He jerked his head contemptuously towards Hotch, the disdain clear as saliva flecked his lips.

Hotch's frame stiffened, an instinctual guard rising within him, but Evelyn was already one step ahead. Her hand met his chest, a silent signal that she could handle him, her face a mask of cool composure. "Is that the best you can do, Harris? Reduce me to looks? I thought you were smarter than that."

The flush of anger on Harris's face deepened, his rage nearly tangible in the stifling air of the room. "You don't know what it's like! You just waltz through life on your tits and ass, never having to work for anything!"

Evelyn's eyes didn't waver. "Seems like you've been watching too closely. Does it bother you, Michael? Seeing people like me succeed?" Her question was deliberate, designed to provoke him.

With a sudden, explosive motion, Harris stood, his hands slamming onto the table with a force that echoed through the room. "I worked for everything while people like you just got it all handed it all handed to them! Those people deserved it, you hear me? They deserved to burn! Travers and I were only serving justice."

--

The clink of Garcia's glass resonated through the air as she raised it high, her voice carrying over the murmur of the bustling bar. "To the most incredible team, who can solve anything with enough coffee and genius brainpower."

The team had gathered at a cozy pub, just ten minutes from Quantico, to unwind after the case. The warm glow of the vintage lamps cast a soft glow on the group, reflecting off the polished mahogany table. The atmosphere was abuzz with the chatter of fellow agents and the soft hum of jazz playing in the background.

Evelyn, dressed in a red dress that hugged every curve, felt the warmth of Hotch's firm shoulder against hers on one side and Spencer's thigh on the other. The proximity to both men sent a flutter of nerves through her. She took a discreet sip of her wine, hoping to dissipate the swarm of butterflies in her stomach. 

Morgan, ever the charmer, lifted his glass with a roguish smile. "And here's to Evelyn," he announced, "the only one who could get a raise out of Hotch with just her performance review!"

Laughter erupted around them. Evelyn's reaction was immediate; her hands flew to her face, shielding her flushed cheeks from the group. The laughter was infectious, but beneath it, she couldn't help but imagine sleeping with him. Peeking through her fingers, she shook her head in mock display. "I cannot believe he said that," she muttered.

"I think we can all agree that the Bureau's hiring practices are a bit more rigorous than that," (are they though) Hotch said. There was a brief pause as he surveyed the group, his gaze lingering on Evelyn for a moment longer than the rest. "And as for performance reviews, I believe your record speaks for itself, Evelyn. No additional... incentives are necessary."

The laughter resumed, Penelope nearly falling out of her chair. Evelyn leaned in, her voice only meant for Hotch. "Careful, Hotch," she teased, "or I'll actually start believing those rumors about your hidden sense of humor."

Morgan, with a playful smirk, couldn't help himself. "Yeah, the hiring practices are definitely more rigorous," he said, winking at Evelyn. "You just need your dad to be Jason Gideon, and you're in. No big deal, right?" 

Evelyn shot Morgan a playful glare, her voice low but teasing. "Careful, Morgan," she warned, "don't think I've forgotten about your big mouth. I might just have to start bribing you next to keep quiet."

Hotch, with a slight upward twitch of his lips that suggested a suppressed smile, shook his head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he said, giving Evelyn a pointed look.

--

The bar's music echoed through the air as JJ, Emily, Evelyn and Penelope found themselves on the dance floor. Their hands were occupied with the chilled glasses, condensation beading down the sides. The pulsating lights of the bar cast a kaleidoscope of colors over them.

With a lightness in her step, JJ danced with a carefree grace. Her laughter, louder and freer than it had been all night, rang out clear. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Rossi would be out-danced by Garcia," she said, nodding towards the table where Rossi sat, looking amused yet slightly bewildered by Garcia's animated dance moves from afar.

Evelyn's eyes followed JJ's gaze, and there they were--Hotch and Spencer--barely concealing the way they were looking at her. Their gazes were intense, unapologetically fixed on her. It was more than just a discreet glance; it was an overt appreciation that lingered just a second too long. When their eyes met hers, they looked away almost guiltily, but the message was clear; she was the object of their undivided attention.

The heat of their stares tangible, igniting a flush that spread across Evelyn's cheeks. It wasn't just the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her; it was the unexpected realization that she reveled in their attention. It was a revelation that came with a jolt of excitement--she wanted to be desired by them, liked the way her presence commanded their focus. 

With a twirl that sent her hair fanning out around her, Prentiss joined in. "Oh, come on, JJ" she teased with a wink, "you know Rossi's got moves. He's just... conserving his energy for case."

With a thoughtful sip from her glass, Evelyn relished the drink's refreshing chill amidst the bar's cozy hum. "I think it's more like he's conserving his dignity," she tossed out playfully, her remark sparking a wave of soft giggles among the group.

Penelope raised her glass as if bestowing a royal decree. "To dignity! May we always have just enough to keep us grounded, but not so much that we can't fly!"

A chorus of tipsy giggles erupted once more from the group, their movements unsteady as they huddled close, shoulders bumping and heads nearly colliding. 

Drunken giggles erupted once more from the group as they leaned into each other, nearly knocking heads. Evelyn excused herself from the dance floor, her steps unsteady as she navigated through the crowd to the bar. The dim lighting and the thrum of the music offering a brief respite from the watchful eyes of her team.

As she waited for the bartender's attention, she felt a sudden, unexpected pressure on her hips. A sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stifle, her muscles coiling tight as she spun on her heel to confront the stranger. Yet, the touch was achingly familiar, and the voice that followed she knew all too well.

"God, Spence, you scared me," she exhaled, relief flooding her voice, her pulse gradually calming to the familiar comfort of his presence. 

Evelyn's inhale turned sharp, a shiver running down her spine as she met Spencer's gaze, his fingertips barely grazing her hips. His eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a knowing smirk. "Sorry," he drawled, the words dripping with an insincerity that was as disarming as it was uncharacteristic. "You just look so good tonight, Evelyn."

She could feel like heat of his breath as he leaned in, the gap between them closing to a whisper. It was a side to Spencer she rarely saw--confident, assertive, and undeniably hot. Evelyn's surprise was quickly replaced by a rising excitement. 

Evelyn's voice was a hushed whisper, tinged with concern. "Spence, the team is going to see us," she warned, her eyes darting anxiously over her shoulder.

But Spencer seemed unfazed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you know how many guys were drooling at you on the dance floor?" he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell them how desperate and needy you were for me last night."

Evelyn's voice was reduced to a whisper as she felt the moisture starting to gather between her legs. "Spence--"

But he cut her off with a single word, "bathroom," and without another glance, he turned and walked away, his departure leaving her feeling as though the air had been vacuumed from her lungs.

She felt almost pathetic as she trailed after him like a lost puppy, her attention briefly diverted to the team, thankfully engrossed by Garcia's orchestration of a drinking game. She pivoted into the muted glow of the hallway, tucking her hair behind her ear with a practiced motion as she made her way briskly into the bathroom.

She stepped through the doorway only to be greeted by desperate hands at her ass that eagerly drew her in, yanking her into Spencer's familiar body. With a faint gasp, she melted into his touch, her intensity matching his, her fingers instinctively finding and curling into the locks of his hair. Without hesitation, he nudged her back against the sink, a quick tap to her thigh a silent command--a command she instantly obeyed, her legs encircling his waist in a tight clasp.

He murmured his approval, "good girl," he praised, a moan escaping her as she tugged gently at his hair.

His smirk, felt rather than seen, played against her lips. His hands clung to her thighs, pushing her dress up to her stomach. He broke the kiss slowly, savoring the taste before lowering himself to her legs. Spencer began to plant open mouthed kisses to the expanse of her thighs, "So sweet."

"Sp-Spencer-," she faltered, her words barely more than a breathless murmur, "we need ground, ah, rules."

Spencer clicked his tongue, his fingers idly twirling the lining of her underwear, his gaze intimately fixed between her thighs, "like what, sweetheart?"

He deftly removed the pesky shred of fabric, and she observed, her lips parted in awe, as he tucked in neatly into his pocket. Her mind went dumb as he gently coaxed her legs further apart.

His thumb began to draw languid circles against her puffed clit as she squirmed. She muffled a moan against her arm, her hips bucking against his touch. Evelyn's body was begging for more and less at the same time.

"Evelyn, use your words." Spencer chided as he drew agonizingly slow circles on the tender spot. "What rules do we need?"

"Well, for one-," she couldn't finish her sentence as Spencer plunged a finger inside her, his mouth coming down on her neck, his tongue licking long stripes up the expanse of flesh. 

Her body turned to Jello as he continued to pump in and out of her. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she desperately tried to ride his fingers. "You like that, baby? Keep riding my fingers, get yourself off, it's okay."

"Spencer, please, please," she couldn't even form a thought of what she was asking for, hands twisting around the curls on his head, pressing her chest flush against his.

"Oh, I know, princess." He coos condescendingly as he grinded his hard cock straining against the material of his jeans, against her body. Her eyes widened as she realized just how big he really was. The familiar tightening became to form in her core, her pants becoming more desperate, her hands clutching his face in an attempt to stabilize herself. "Let them hear how good you take it, baby."

She could feel her resolve crumbling, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she moaned out a string of nonsensical words.

The words tipped her over the edge, her body shaking with pleasure as she cried his name out. He smirked as his hand pressed down over her mouth, her breath fogging up the flesh as she rode out her high. 

"You did so good, sweetheart," Spencer praised, his hand gently sweeping the strands of hair from her face, as she offered him a blissful, dreamily smile. This man had now given her two groundbreaking orgasms.

She had never come from a man before, let one be given earth-shattering, life altering ones just from his fingers. She peeled herself away from the counter unconcerned with her disarrayed appearance as she sank to her knees. Her long lashes fluttered gently as she lifted her gaze towards Spencer.

A deep sigh escaped him, his head dropped back, fingers pressing lightly against the bridge of his nose as he declared, "Jesus, you're going to be the death of me."

Evelyn took that as her permission, her hands were a blur, swiftly working the buckle of his belt with an almost frantic efficiency.

She quickly liberated his length from the clutches of the confining material. A subtle gasp fluttered from her, barely audible, as his cock sprang to life. Mesmerized, she studied it--red, angry, massive and imposing.

A quick swipe of her tongue combated the dryness of her lips as she grasped the base with a steady hand.  He stiffened in her grasp as he extended his hand, allowing it to come to a soft halt amidst the locks of her hair at the back of her head.

She took a deep breath, trace a path with her tongue from the base to head, testing the waters. Spencer's exhale was a quiet plea, his fingers weaving through the strands of her hair.

Evelyn wanted to relish every moment, to extend the pleasure, and to take her time. Yet, she felt the pulse of Spencer's impatience. She quickly took him in her mouth, a moan enveloping around his cock while his grip tightened on her scalp.

Her lips sloppily dragged up and down the length, her eyes lifting to meet his as she felt him twitch in her mouth. "God, baby, I wish you could see how perfect you look right now."

This only egged her on and she challenged herself to go deeper. An unexpected string of profanities fell from Spencer's lips as she took him.

He cradled her face between his hands, her eyelashes batting softly in his direction. He gently gathered her hair into a ponytail as she continued to take him deeper, trails of mascara etching down her face that he found so perfect. 

"Fuck, sweetheart." He moaned out, his hips beginning to push back against her.

Evelyn's hand clung to his thighs, moisture gathering in her eyes as she continued to take his length as far as she could. She could feel he was close--the way his thighs trembled slightly under her manicured hands, the way his cock twitched ever so slightly in her mouth.

With a quick motion, Evelyn placed her hand on the base of his cock, synchronizing her strokes with her mouth, keeping her gaze locked on his. That's all it took before she felt his hold on her tighten, the hot liquid shooting on to her tongue.

She let out a sound of gratification, settling back on her heels while her tongue swept over her bottom lip. His chest heaved in a steady rhythm, his eyes lowering to meet hers, a weary smile lingering on his lips.

"Yup, like I said that will definitely be playing in my head for the rest of my life," he exhaled, his fingers sifting through his disheveled locks.

Evelyn's laughter bubbled up as he extended his hand, drawing her up to her feet. The moment she was within reach, his lips found hers, hungry and insistent. His smirk lingered as he drew away, her cheeks cupped in his hands, his thumbs tenderly sweeping away the mascara smudges.

"What were you saying about ground rules?" Spencer questioned, his voice soft colored with fatigue and a hint of exhilaration.

"Ground rules right," she said. "Absolutely. Just as soon as my neurons start firing again."

Laughter spilled out loudly, his hands deftly untangling her hair. "So, who's braving the exit first? Do you think they noticed?"

Evelyn shot him a deadpan look. "They're profilers," she reminded, then sighed. "But I'll go."

She spun around the mirror, hastily adjusting her dress and taming her hair into some semblance of order before stepping back into the bar. Evelyn's gaze landed instantly on the group, clearly tipsy, their laughter drowning out the rest of the bar. She quieted the butterflies in her stomach as she approached the rowdy group. Her eyes met Hotch's, his single raised brow a silent question about her appearance. 

"Evie!" The unmistakable sound of Penelope's shriek pierced the air as she threw her arms around Evelyn. "We were terrified, Chica! We thought we'd lost you forever."

Evelyn responded with an embarrassed laugh, "Oh, P, if I had a nickel for every time I 'died,' according to your standards I'd be out buying a yacht."

next

taglist: @nonamevenus @aceofspades190

[snapghoul]

Hangman is comin’ down from the gallows, and I don’t have very long.

In which Tyler is smitten with a certain girl and Jake does what he does best: annoy people.

Warnings: foul language

Note: Tyler refers to Bradley only as Rooster while Jake calls him by his name or Roo, this was a detail i didn’t notice until I was half way through writing this. The things I do to myself.

Tags: @devil-angel-winchester

Song: renegade by Styx

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Jake licked his teeth and clicked his tongue as he oh-so-casually slid up next to his brother, boxing Tyler into the booth at the old country diner they’d crowded into somewhere in central Oklahoma.

“So… Kate, huh?” Jake’s grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Tyler shot him a sidelong glance, trying to ignore the growing heat in his cheeks. “What about Kate?”

Jake leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, Ty. I see the way you look at her. It’s not just friendly banter about tornado chasing.”

Tyler shifted uncomfortably, trying to deflect. “It’s not like that. We just work together—we’re partners, you know, with the polymer project. And she’s been through a lot with storm chasing. I’m just trying to keep things light-hearted and professional.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Light-hearted and professional? That’s why you practically trip over your words whenever she’s around? And don’t think I didn’t catch how you went all sweet southern boy when Bradshaw and I first got here.”

Tyler stiffened and gave his twin a glare, irritated by how well Jake read him. It was a talent Jake had always had, and it never failed to get under Tyler’s skin.

“You were buttering yourself up to make yourself look good in front of her,” Jake continued, his smirk growing. “It was almost sickening how thick you laid it on. Bradley had to take a walk when you two went to look at the radar. I thought he was going to throw up!”

Tyler’s face reddened. “That’s exaggerating, Jake. I was just trying to be supportive. It’s not like I planned to impress anyone.”

Jake’s grin widened, clearly relishing his brother’s discomfort. “Oh, come on. We both know you were laying it on super thick. I’ve seen you try to play it cool before, but this? This was next-level. And I’m not saying it was a bad thing—but holy shit, Ty.”

Tyler’s face was practically streaming with embarrassment. He silently thanked whatever higher power had distracted Kate and the others. The only one left in their booth was Rooster, who was looking equally uncomfortable.

“Right, Roo?” Jake decided to rope the other man into the conversation, clearly enjoying Tyler’s discomfort. “You saw it, right?”

Rooster shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two brothers. He clearly tried to avoid getting involved but failed as Jake’s sharp eyes fixed on him.

“No comment,” Rooster said, and Tyler silently thanked him for trying to steer the conversation away.

“Whatever,” Jake clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, then turned his full attention back to Tyler. “I’ve never seen you so smitten! Never! She really must be something.”

Tyler bit his tongue, struggling to keep from spilling all the reasons he thought Kate was amazing. He knew that would only dig him deeper into Jake’s teasing.

“But I like her! I think Ma and Dad will, too,” Jake said and finally relented, for now. He slid back from his brother and returned to his seat next to Rooster.

The timing was impeccable because, just then, Kate walked into the booth area with a radiant smile and a lively energy that made Tyler’s heart skip.

Jake’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he noticed the effect Kate had on Tyler. His Cheshire smile broadened, clearly enjoying this.

Tyler knew Jake wouldn’t let him live this down.

Bonus Rooster and Kate:

“Is he always like this?” Kate said from atop the red rig, her sunglasses shielding her eyes from the harsh Oklahoma sun. Bradley was handing her the new sensors, both of them squinting against the glaring light.

Bradley didn’t need to look to know what she meant. He let out a sigh. “Annoying? Always.”

It was a dry joke, and Kate snorted, giving the side of the sensor a quick, unceremonious smack to adjust it.

“Jake’s got this knack for finding everyone’s soft spots and poking at them. It’s his way of keeping things interesting,” Bradley continued. He was used to it by now, but he could understand how aggressive it might seem to others.

Kate raised an eyebrow, clearly processing this. “So, it’s not just me he’s targeting?”

Bradley shook his head. “Nope. He picks on everyone, but Tyler’s the one he’s focused on—sibling things, I guess? I don’t know, I was an only child.”

Bradley got sidetracked, waving his hand dismissively as he handed her another sensor.

“Anyways, you just got caught in the crossfire. Trust me, it’s not malicious. Jake just found something he could tease Tyler about and went with it.”

Kate took the sensor with a nod, her expression easing. “Got it. I’ll just stay still and hope he won’t see me.”

She and Bradley shared a laugh at the lame pop culture joke.

Bradley grinned. “No problem. And if Jake gets to be too much, just let me know.”

Kate smiled and nodded as they returned to their work. With Bradley’s reassurance, she felt more prepared to handle Jake’s playful jabs.

But that didn’t stop her own teasing side from rearing its head. “So, is like ‘wingman’ the Navy term for boyfriend?”

Bradley choked on his spit.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Average Rooster reaction while being dragged across Oklahoma, poor Roo (he did this to himself)

[angies-writing-blog]

For anyone without Ao3, because the request came in. Hehe… it’s been a tough week(s), so here’s a little self-insert to cheer up. My husband put our little one to bed and watched Forbidden Kingdom with me, and I fell in love with him... and Wukong again.

Withdrawing, his feet barely grazed the ground as she pursued him, her gaze locked onto him, returning with every twist and turn, never losing the rhythm.

Through the relentless rain, he could hear the drumming of her heart, feel its echo in his own. And there it was again: that familiar twitch in his chest, the one that always surfaced in her presence. An unusual tension, one he was unaccustomed to.

He was Sūn Wùkōng, the Great Sage, who had shattered the heavens and conquered death. What force could possibly disturb his balance?

Simple Movements. The delicate footsteps of that human child captivated his senses. Guided by him, her responses seemed to flow in a rhythm of fleeting seconds, yet they quickened to a pace so swift that even he struggled to keep up. As she drew nearer, her eyes sparkled like the stars the night sky refused to unveil. Challenging. Bold. With a teasing glimmer that made his throat run dry, she edged closer.

He inhaled deeply, twirling his staff around them in a playful dance. This time, there was no aggression, no predatory certainty; the Monkey King sought to enchant her.

Reserved, she had been during their first encounter. Marked by the weight of the world, she had shielded herself, unwilling to break free from her defenses to avoid the risk of vulnerability. He had taught her the necessity of shedding that armor. Now, she was attentive, vigilant, able to anticipate his every move, deflect his strikes, and see through his deceptions. In battle, she stood resolutely by his side; without her, he found himself adrift, unsure of what drove him onward.

Looking down, he met her gaze. Something profound lay within the depths of her celestial realm—more than mere respect, a connection he was eager to reciprocate in this very moment.

Wùkōng's grin widened, yet pure joy felt distinctly different. Deep within him, a faint pull stirred, one he could not name. Heavily, the staff rested in his hands, his movements slowing under its weight.

Silently, he sought her permission, raising his arm once more. Answering, a fleeting nod.

Gently, he caressed her cheek as the shape of his staff transformed in his grip. He wove it, now no larger than a hairpin, into her tousled dark strands.

Not even the moon could now rival her beauty.

Cautiously, her fingers curled around his, sending a surge of warmth through him. She was alive. Mortal. The clarity of this realization nearly stole his breath away. A mere human child, destined to leave him behind while he remained.

He resisted the truth, unable to accept it. He longed for her, to hold her close, to shield her from the world. This yearning struck him with greater force than any battle he had ever faced.

A heavy sigh escaped Wùkōng as he bent down, pressing his lips to her forehead. She would not stay forever, but in this fleeting moment, she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her.

Pulling her closer, her arms encircled his back, and a sigh escaped her lips, too.

Still he had become when she began to hum a soft, familiar melody. Floating between them, it broke the spell of his stillness, and he embraced her sound. Gently, his hands found her waist, their feet moving in the same rhythm—slow, flowing—until no boundary remained between them.

A distant call shattered the tranquility. They both paused, and in that shared breath, an exhale escaped them. For an instant, silence enveloped them, then laughter bubbled forth, light and free, dispelling the heaviness once more. Whenever the world threatened to stand still, Zhu Bajie had a way of pulling it back into motion.

Wùkōng lowered his head again, whispering his love against her skin. Still smiling, they gently released each other from their embrace, following in harmony the direction from which the voice had come, their fingers lingering, tenderly entwined.

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.6k

chapter: 9/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE AVENGERS WERE GATHERED in the briefing room, the mood tense as Tony finished going over the information they’d just uncovered about Hydra’s “Project Eclipse.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said, rubbing his temples. “They’re planning to shut down the country’s infrastructure, unleash a virus, and mind-control half the population?”

“That’s about the gist of it,” Natasha replied, her tone dry. “And let’s not forget the sleeper agents waiting to dismantle everything from the inside.”

“It’s like a supervillain starter pack,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “All they’re missing is a volcano lair and a maniacal laugh.”

Tony snorted, though his expression remained grim as he glanced at Bruce and Steve. “And it’s not just theoretical anymore. They’re ready to go operational. We’re running out of time.”

Just then, FRIDAY’s voice came through, unusually tense. “Sir, I’m detecting an unauthorized breach in the tower’s security system.”

Before anyone could respond, the hum of machinery filled the room, and then, without warning, a swarm of Hydra drones smashed through the windows, glass shattering everywhere. The air filled with the high-pitched whine of energy weapons as the drones opened fire, and everyone dove for cover.

“Everyone down!” Steve shouted, raising his shield just in time to deflect a burst of energy aimed at Natasha.

“Drones? Seriously?” you shouted over the noise. “How unoriginal.”

“Let’s save the commentary for later,” Tony snapped, already halfway into his suit as his helmet clicked into place. “FRIDAY, release their cuffs.”

Your cuffs fell away with a soft click, and the familiar rush of power surged through you, shadows pooling at your feet, ready and waiting. “Now we’re talking.”

The fighting was relentless, and the drones kept coming. They moved in coordinated waves, almost as if they were responding to every attack the team threw at them.

FRIDAY’s voice broke through the chaos. “Sir, the drones are downloading sensitive files at an alarming rate. They’ve gained access to every file in the Stark Industries database—including your personal archives.”

“Which means,” Clint shouted from across the room as he fired a well-placed arrow into a drone, “they’re not just getting info on our missions—they’re getting everything. Everything about us.”

“Fantastic,” you quipped, shadows darting around as you shot down another drone. ���So, what, we’re just an open book for Hydra now? This day just keeps getting better.”

The team fought on, each member taking down drones as they could, but no matter how many they destroyed, more seemed to pour in through every broken window and crevice.

Steve managed to shield a group of you from a blast, his face tense. “We can’t keep this up. These things aren’t stopping.”

One of the drones locked onto you, its targeting laser tracing a line across your chest. Just as you prepared to move, a metal arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the ground. A blast sizzled over your head, close enough that you felt the heat.

“Careful,” he muttered, his gaze lingering on you for a split second before he turned back to fire at the drone.

You blinked, taken aback but grateful, only managing a quick nod before you launched back into the fray. The drones swarmed relentlessly, their energy blasts filling the air with heat and light.

Finally, Tony shouted, “We’re outmatched here! We need to fall back. Now!”

Steve nodded, his shield deflecting another blast as he signaled to the team. “Everyone, head for the stairs. Move!”

One by one, you and the others sprinted for the stairwell, ducking and dodging as drones continued to fire from every direction. You could feel your heart pounding as you rushed down the narrow steps, Bucky close behind you. Natasha led the way, kicking open a side door, and soon you were sprinting down the crowded streets of the city, trying to blend into the crowd and lose the drones.

The team ducked into a small café, breathless and exhausted, doing your best not to attract attention as you found an empty table in the back. The place was quiet, customers chatting and sipping their drinks, completely unaware of the chaos just blocks away.

You sank into a chair, wiping the sweat from your brow as you tried to catch your breath. Clint slid into the seat across from you, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “Did that really just happen?”

Tony leaned forward, his face grim. “They have everything on us now—our pasts, our weaknesses. Hydra’s not just playing games anymore.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Everyone looked around the table, faces grim, each of you realizing just how deeply Hydra had infiltrated.

“Well,” you said quietly, “we’re screwed.”

A waitress placed mugs of coffee on the table, eyeing each of you suspiciously as you all sat, dishevelled and bruised, but everyone was too tired to care. Tony took a long sip, his fingers tapping on the table as he worked out a plan.

“Alright,” he said finally, glancing around the table. “Hydra knows exactly where we are, and they’ve got eyes on us through every camera, satellite, and hacked device in the area. If we go anywhere as one big group, we’ll be an easy target.”

“We need to split up,” Natasha said finally, her voice low and decisive. “Sticking together makes us easier to track.”

Steve nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Hydra’s already got their eyes on us, and staying in one place just makes it easier for them to send more drones, more operatives. Four groups, each heading in different directions.”

“Small teams would make us harder to find,” Sam agreed, glancing around the table. “If we’re scattered, they’d have to spread their resources thin trying to catch us all.”

Tony took out his tablet, grimacing as he remembered Hydra had accessed everything. He tossed it onto the table, frustrated. “We need to ditch the tech. Phones, and tracking devices—all compromised. Anything tied to Stark Industries is under Hydra’s surveillance now.”

“Phones too?” Peter asked, reluctantly sliding his cell onto the table.

Tony sighed, looking at Peter. “Sorry, kid, but yes. Hydra’s got access to everything. The second we power those things back on, they’ll know our every move.”

Peter reluctantly placed his phone down, and the rest of you followed suit, piling phones, earpieces, and other tracking tech on the table.

“So who’s going with who?” Sam asked, glancing around. “Might as well know who I’m babysitting for the next couple of hours.”

“Sam and I will stick together,” Steve said without hesitation. “We’ve got some experience lying low.”

“Natasha and I can pair up,” Clint added, giving her a nod. “We’ll take the west route. We know enough safe spots to lay low for a while.”

“That leaves me with Bruce and the kid,” Tony said, looking resigned but resolved. “I’ve got some equipment stashed in an old Stark facility nearby. We’ll pick up supplies there and head to the mountains.”

You could already feel it coming, the inevitable. You raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who was giving you the same look. “Guess that means we’re stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Bucky let out a low groan, running a hand down his face. “This is not my day.”

Tony smirked, clearly enjoying the pairing. “Well, look on the bright side, Barnes. At least you’ve got a chance to watch her back, since someone is currently without cuffs.”

You shot him a glare but didn’t argue. Bucky eyed you with suspicion, his gaze flicking to your shadow-powered hands before he muttered, “Yeah, great. Just what I needed.”

Everyone exchanged brief, quiet goodbyes, understanding the risk that came with splitting up. Clint and Natasha clasped hands before separating, while Tony ruffled Peter’s hair, giving him a gruff, “Stay close, kid.” Finally, you were all on the move, slipping out of the cafe one by one, trying to blend into the crowd.

You and Bucky broke off in a different direction, heading down a deserted side street, eyes peeled for a vehicle.

“What’s the plan for a ride?” Bucky asked, glancing around at the empty alley, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You stopped as soon as you caught sight of a beat-up, dust-covered old car parked beside a loading dock, half-hidden by a pile of crates. It was an old, rusted Cadillac with chipped paint and a suspicious dent on the side. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, but it was all you had for now.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, eyeing the car like it might fall apart at the touch. “You really think that thing’s gonna open? Let alone start?”

You smirked, ignoring his doubts as you approached the car. “Watch and learn, Barnes.”

First, you pressed your fingers under the handle, feeling around for the gap, and slid out a thin metal lock-pick from your belt. You carefully wedged it into the crack, maneuvering the pick with the precision you’d honed over the years. Bucky watched, clearly not impressed yet, his arms crossed as he leaned against a nearby crate.

“You know, this might actually go faster if you helped,” you muttered, glancing at him.

He just shrugged. “I’m enjoying the show.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on the lock, feeling the tension adjust slightly under your pick until… click. The car door swung open, the stale smell of old upholstery hitting you in the face.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, still unimpressed. “Alright, you got it open. Now let’s see if you can actually get it running.”

You slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning down to mess with the wires under the steering column. You pulled a couple of wires free, twisted them together, and tapped them against the ignition. After a moment of silence, the car roared to life, vibrating as the engine struggled but caught on. You leaned back, a triumphant grin on your face.

“Guess I still got it,” you said, giving Bucky a smug look.

He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. Move over,” he said, nodding toward the passenger seat.

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I’m driving,” he said, one hand already reaching for the steering wheel as he gestured for you to switch seats. “I’d rather not die today, and I don’t trust you behind the wheel.”

You scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I’m a fantastic driver.”

He just raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Sure. And I’m a yoga instructor. Now move.”

Grumbling, you climbed over the center console into the passenger seat, shooting him an exaggerated glare as he slid in and took the wheel. “Alright, fine. But if we end up lost, that’s on you.”

“Noted,” he said, giving the wheel an experimental turn. The car groaned in protest but held together. “Buckle up. This is probably going to be bumpy.”

The mission was only beginning, but the stakes had never felt higher.

The old Cadillac rumbled along the winding road, the distant hum of the city long behind as the countryside stretched out around you in golden fields and thick patches of forest. It had been hours since you and Bucky had left the café, the road empty save for the occasional truck or weather-beaten farmhouse passing by.

To Bucky’s surprise, you had been silent the entire ride. No sarcastic remarks, no teasing. You just sat there, looking out the window, watching the scenery blur past. Every now and then, he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye, expecting a comment, maybe even a smirk, but you just kept staring out the window, lost in thought.

The silence was almost peaceful, but there was something strange about it—something uncharacteristically still that made him feel like he was sitting next to a different person. He shifted in his seat, opening his mouth once or twice to say something, but the words just didn’t come. Maybe you needed the quiet.

But then, suddenly, Tony’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie, and both of you flinched at the sound.

“Alright, check-in time,” Tony’s voice echoed. “Everyone still on the road?”

One by one, the replies came through.

“Yeah, we’re here,” Sam’s voice said, a slight edge of tension in his usually calm tone.

“We’re all good,” Natasha replied next, Clint’s voice in the background, mumbling something inaudible.

You leaned forward and grabbed the walkie from Bucky’s side, pressing the button. “Still here.”

Bucky glanced at you, eyebrows raised. It was the first thing you’d said since you got in the car, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You just stared at the walkie as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

A pause followed, then Steve’s voice came through, steady but cautious. “Alright. Listen, we can’t keep running aimlessly. We need somewhere to regroup and make a plan. Somewhere Hydra won’t track us.”

Silence fell on the line. Even though Steve had spoken the truth, no one seemed to have a solution. Finding a truly safe location, where Hydra wouldn’t sniff them out in hours, was nearly impossible. If anyone did have a safe house, Hydra had probably tracked it already, especially with the amount of data they’d managed to pull from Stark’s systems.

In the quiet, you bit your lip, hesitating. You had a place—somewhere buried so far in your past that even Hydra wouldn’t think to look for you there. But bringing everyone there… letting them see that part of you… it wasn’t something you’d planned on doing, maybe ever.

Still, this was life or death.

You took a deep breath, then pressed down on the walkie. “I know a place.”

Silence followed, and you could practically feel everyone on the other end of the line turning their heads in shock.

“You?” Clint’s voice came through, incredulous. “You have a safe house?”

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “It’s in Michigan. Middle of nowhere. It’s safe.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at you, his brow furrowing. “Michigan? You’re telling me we have to drive twelve hours to get there?”

The line crackled again as Tony’s voice chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, sure, let’s just take a twelve-hour road trip through the entire Northeast while Hydra’s out for blood. What could go wrong?”

You rolled your eyes, slumping back in your seat. “You have a better idea, Stark? Besides, we could stop along the way, grab something to eat, maybe even sleep. Or,” you added with a smirk, “we could all bond. Good ol’ Avengers bonding time.”

Bucky scoffed beside you, muttering under his breath. “Right. Bonding. That’s what we need.”

You couldn’t resist the urge to nudge him with your elbow, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Come on, Barnes. It’ll be fun. Think of all the memories we’ll make.”

Bucky just gave you a deadpan look. “Memories of you trying to get us killed, maybe.”

Tony’s voice cut back in, sounding exasperated but resigned. “Fine. Let’s head for Michigan. If this is our best shot, we’ll take it. Everyone, get some food, gas up, and keep a low profile. We’ll meet up as soon as we’re out of range.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice came through. “See you all there.”

With a final crackle, the walkie went silent. You tossed it back onto the dashboard and leaned back, watching the sun dip lower over the countryside. The nerves that had been coiled in your stomach began to settle as you mentally prepared yourself for where you were headed.

Bucky stayed quiet for a moment, clearly mulling over the unexpected revelation that you had a place to take everyone, a place you’d never mentioned.

“So,” he said finally, glancing at you, “what’s in Michigan?”

You just shrugged, not looking at him. “Old ties, I guess. Somewhere no one would think to look.”

Bucky studied your profile for a second, something unreadable in his expression, but he didn’t press you for details. He just turned his eyes back to the road, gripping the wheel as he accelerated. The car hummed along the empty highway, and for the first time, you felt a strange sense of calm creeping in, knowing you’d be heading somewhere familiar.

After a few hours of driving through nothing but countryside and dusty roads, Bucky finally pulled the Cadillac into a small gas station on the outskirts of a rundown town. The pump was ancient, the kind you almost expected to crank by hand, and the station itself looked like it hadn’t seen a remodel since the ‘80s. Perfect, really, for laying low.

As he put the car in park, you stretched, groaning, and finally stepped out of the car, feeling your stiff muscles relax. “Alright, I’ll get food. You do...whatever grumpy, ex-Winter Soldiers do while getting gas.”

He rolled his eyes “Just try not to buy out the entire snack aisle, alright?”

“Oh, you mean like you and your gas station jerky addiction?” You said with a grin.

Without waiting for his comeback, you headed inside the convenience store. It was small and smelled faintly of burnt coffee, but it was stocked with the essentials: stale pastries, greasy bags of chips, and suspiciously flavored sodas. You went straight for the snacks, grabbing a few bags of chips, a pack of donuts that looked questionably old, and—just because you could—a bright green bottle of soda.

When you returned to the car, Bucky was finishing up at the pump, giving the Cadillac a cautious once-over as if it might fall apart any second. He looked up when you handed him the bottle.

“Green Lightning Blast?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to poison me?”

“Oh, please,” you said with a smirk. “This is quality gas station soda. You’re lucky I didn’t grab Mystery Melon instead.” You leaned into the trunk, arranging the bags of chips like they were valuable cargo.

Bucky uncapped the soda, sniffed it cautiously, then took a small sip before grimacing. “Tastes like nuclear waste.”

“Good for the soul,” you quipped, popping open a bag of chips and tossing one into your mouth as you hopped into the passenger seat.

Just as he was about to follow you, Bucky suddenly stopped and glanced across the street at a dingy hardware store, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Hold on,” he said, sounding half to himself.

You frowned, watching him as he headed across the street. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Hardware store,” he called back, not looking over his shoulder.

“Why?” you asked, hurrying to catch up, half-amused and half-irritated. “In case you forgot, I literally control shadows. I could just snap my fingers and—” You waved your hand theatrically in front of him, “boom. Done. Easy.”

“Yeah, well, in case you forgot,” Bucky replied, deadpan, “I don’t trust things I can’t see. And I’m sure as hell not trusting my life to some tricked-out parlor magic.”

You rolled your eyes, following him inside. “Wow, sounds like someone needs a lesson in appreciating useful skills.”

He ignored your comment, grabbing a basket and heading straight for the aisle with the camping and hunting gear. You watched as he loaded up on some surprisingly heavy-duty stuff—flashlights, a utility knife, zip ties, rope, even a small hatchet.

“Are we escaping Hydra or reenacting a camping trip from hell?” you asked, leaning over the basket to eye the growing pile. “Are you planning to hunt with that, or are you just compensating for something?”

Bucky shot you a glare. “You wanna keep it down? I’m making sure we have options.”

You held up a flashlight, wiggling it in his face. “Options? This is the kind of thing that screams, ‘I live alone in a cabin and only eat canned beans.’”

Bucky just plucked the flashlight out of your hands. “I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”

You scoffed, but couldn’t help the grin spreading on your face. “Sure, whatever you say, Boy Scout.”

With his basket full, Bucky finally headed toward the register, where a bored-looking cashier barely glanced up as he scanned the items. When the total came up, Bucky fished around in his pocket, mumbling something about how “Tony better reimburse us for all this.”

When you finally got back to the car, Bucky loaded up the trunk, placing his hardware store haul next to the snacks you’d bought, each bag and tool meticulously arranged.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, watching as he placed the hatchet at an angle—perfectly within reach if he ever needed to grab it. He caught your eye and raised an eyebrow as if daring you to comment.

“You know,” you said, smirking as he closed the trunk, “most people just carry a pocketknife. But hey, what do I know?”

Bucky shook his head, walking around to the driver’s side. “I’m just being prepared. You want to make fun of it, go ahead, but when this axe comes in handy, I’ll remember that.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said as he got in, buckling up. “If you pull out that hatchet mid-mission, I’ll take a front-row seat to watch the show.”

As Bucky started the car, you threw a couple of chips into your mouth and glanced over, eyes bright with mischief. “So, how does it feel, Barnes? Out here on a top-secret, off-the-grid, government fugitive road trip. Just you, me, and a trunk full of discount hardware.”

He shook his head, eyes focused on the road but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Feels like I’m babysitting an overconfident shadow with a snack addiction.”

You laughed, tossing another chip into your mouth. “Hey, you’re the one who insisted on the hatchet. I’m just here for the chips and the company.”

“Lucky me,” he muttered, accelerating as the gas station faded into the distance.

dividers by @dollywons

[ganondoodle]

rough beast ganondorf design + sketches + notes design combines the typical boar form (dark beast + cloud form from botw), the oni one (demon king gan) hint at the draconic one to come but keep part of his humanity with his clothing being mostly intact

as the battle with Demon King Ganondorf comes to an end, the sages previously knocked out start to wake up again, he is cornered and hurt and as fear of being imprisoned, tortured and exploited overwhelms him he transforms into the Beast form, breaking the arena you were fighting him in and him going for Zelda as she is the biggest threat (he remembers her destroying dark beast gan and she reminds him of sonia, who is the one you sealed his human body back in the day)

you and zelda flee through the cracks of the earth as more earthquakes happen with a beast at your heels thats now truly only out to kill as fast as possible as he burrows after you (first sketch)

the path takes you both just below the surface and as you are trapped in a dead end zelda shields herself and link with her light shield ability, which protects you both from immediate damage but cant soften the impact from gan charging at you, the impact of which breaks you all three to the surface and the battle takes place in the same spot as botws dark beast fight-

fight is very challenging as gan is smaller than the dark best version, jumping and charging at you while still able to cast spells, now truly throwing everything he can at you in the hopes of ending you both

fight ends with you shooting an arrow at zelda, her deflecting it at the right angle and it shooting off the enigma stone on gans forehead; he falls seemingly defeated and as zelda runs to take the stone away gan through sheer panic lunges for the stone triggering his dragon transformation and making way for the final fight

(summary of the end: in the final fight gan snatches up both link and zelda once he transformed into the black dragon and takes flight toward the sky, zelda falls from between his teeth and knowing that she cant get to link and help him in any way from the ground she, while falling, takes out the enigma stone she has kept in a save container in her backpack all this time and swallows it for her own transformation, in her white dragon form she takes active action and charges at gans head so link is freed, then supports him in the fight itself; at the end link plunges into dragon-gans mouth to reach the stone on the inside where he makes use of the 'medicine' previously made using the moonbloom taked from kogas secret lab, link and the stone are spit out and as gan reverses into a human and falls link is caught by zelda and he uses the second charge of it on her to bring her back as well; as all three fall from the skies as the sages have made their way through the tunnel that beast gan made earlier, they help link and zelda getting to the ground safely while the yiga do the same for gan - final end end isnt determined yet but this is waht i got so far and even if i have written this once before i felt it was fitting to do it again and no you cant tell me this is too much of a wishfulfillment thing bc it literally is just that as i cant actualyl change whats in the game, so even if im trying to make it all fit well together i can still do what i want nhakjdbgshdbhsjka)

(totk rewritten project)

[rabbitprincessthief]

gog i still can't get over minish cap vaati's Everything. He is So Fucking Stupid (affectionate)

Like. This guy's establishing character moment is, in order:

he's introduced as having won an entire tournament to get to touch a magic chest and get a cool sword, which was the prize for said tournament

turns around and does a goddamn evil soliloquy TEN FEET AWAY FROM THE GUARDS who were about to hand him his macguffin on a platter

(like this man fucks up his own horribly planned daylight heist because he cannot keep a lid on the dramatics for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES, IN PUBLIC)

(THE BAR WAS ON THE FLOOR VAATI, FUCKING GANONDORF PLAYS THE PIPE ORGAN FOR HIS OWN BOSS INTRO AND HE STILL KNOWS BETTER THAN THIS SHIT)

proceeds to fight the guards (it is, admittedly, a curbstomp for him, but it still clearly wasn't his plan, because otherwise why bother with the tournament)

gloats evilly

opens chest, unleashing a whole bunch of monsters

exposits out loud about Zelda's powers like a nerd while she is actively charging up her magic powers to kick his ass

RECOGNIZES and IDENTIFIES said magic as the special power carried by the female royal line

completely fails to recognize it as the light force he is currently trying to get his hands on (he spends like 99% of the game not figuring this out.)

petrifies her

(i have no idea if link could have deflected this spell if he had managed to get the right angle with his shield but i like to think somewhere there is a very short and very funny alternate timeline where it happens)

(more importantly: no part of vaati's original presumed plan would have involved doing this. he 100% created this situation for himself by being an dramatic idiot and picking a fight for no good reason.)

looks in the chest

there's no light force

considering his stated goals he might be as confused as you are about the monsters tbh

uhhh

evil laugh

teleports the fuck out

He then proceeds to spend the rest of the game trying to figure out where the light force is and ends up having to wait for Ezlo and Link to figure it out first because he was, as far as I can tell, GENUINELY stuck on this part. He fucking kidnaps and impersonates the King, not for access to Zelda, but to… send guards to go look for the Light Force, presumably because he was either running out of ideas or genuinely thought that would work.

None of the guards even had any idea what he was talking about. He's not even good at impersonating the King. He's already sent like twenty people to the dungeon by the time you get there and it hasn't even been a week. Somehow the game spins this as a cunning plan and clever manipulation or something.

(Meanwhile the guards are just. Poking around in random bushes and shit hoping to find the light force. One of them asks you what you think it might look like.)

Zelda is literally right next to the throne and Vaati does not figure it out until you find an actual honest-to-goodness LORE TABLET spelling out that the Light Force is Stored in the Zelda, at which point he's like "ahahaha you've done my work for me this was definitely my plan all along" and takes over the castle and throws a bunch of monsters at you to stall for time while he figures out how to extract the force from her. Somehow he still doesn't think to actually lock the fucking door.

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part Two

Summary: In which Benny's stare chases her away

Masterlist/ Part One-Part Three

Standing in front of him, my thoughts were a tangled mess, each one jostling for attention as I tried to find the right words. Benny’s presence was overwhelming in the quietest way—his piercing blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through any shield I’d put up. The unwavering focus of his gaze sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, startling me. He didn’t look away, not even for a second, like he had all the time in the world to just watch me, soaking up every little detail.

I felt small and exposed, and the vulnerability of it all made my heart flutter nervously in my chest. My cheeks burned under the weight of his stare, and I quickly bowed my head, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping across my face. It was unnerving, how calmly he held me in his sights, not a flicker of doubt or hesitation. No guy had ever looked at me like that—like I was worth noticing, worth standing still for.

I rubbed my cheek, feeling the warmth spreading beneath my fingertips, and fidgeted with my fingers, picking at the skin around my nails as if it would distract me from the nervous energy buzzing through me. I stole quick glances at him, my eyes darting away whenever they threatened to linger too long. I wanted to ask him why he was here, why he kept staring, but the words felt heavy and clumsy in my mouth, stuck somewhere between curiosity and fear of hearing the answer. Finally, I managed to look up at him, my gaze wavering under the intensity of his, and I bit my lip nervously, feeling the awkwardness of the moment sink in.

“So, um...” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, shy and unsure. “My friends think you’ve been staring at me, and...” I trailed off, feeling stupid for even bringing it up, but the thought wouldn’t leave my mind. “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure they’re wrong, but...” I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes even though every instinct told me to look away. “Are you?”

There was a brief pause, a flicker of something in Benny’s eyes that I couldn’t quite read. His expression didn’t change much; his lips quirked just slightly, not quite a smile but enough to let me know he was amused. He didn’t seem caught off guard by the question or embarrassed by being called out. If anything, he seemed perfectly at ease, like he’d been waiting for me to ask.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure, leaving no room for doubt. Benny didn’t elaborate, didn’t feel the need to explain himself or justify his actions. It was just a straightforward answer, delivered with a calm confidence that made my breath hitch.

His honesty was jarring, cutting through the fog of my nerves like a bright light in a dark room. I wasn’t used to it—this kind of raw, unfiltered truth that Benny seemed to deliver so effortlessly. For a moment, my brain stuttered, struggling to catch up with the weight of his words. He wasn’t dodging or deflecting; he wasn’t trying to charm his way out of the awkwardness. He was just... honest. Plain and simple.

When the reality of his answer finally sank in, a surge of warmth spread across my cheeks, and I realized with a start that I was smiling—a soft, unguarded smile that I couldn’t hold back, no matter how hard I tried. It felt foreign, like I was allowing myself to be seen in a way I hadn’t before, stripped of all the usual defenses I hid behind. I bit my lip, feeling the full force of his gaze settle on me, and the nervous energy bubbling up inside me finally spilled over in the form of a giggle. It was light and breathless, the kind that escaped without warning, catching me off guard as much as him.

I ducked my head, the blush on my cheeks deepening as I tried to hide the giddy smile that wouldn’t leave my lips. The giggle felt silly and out of place, but I couldn’t help it; there was something so disarmingly simple about the way Benny just admitted it, like it was the easiest thing in the world to tell a girl you’d been staring at her. I glanced up through my lashes, stealing a peek at his reaction, half expecting him to laugh at my flustered response. But Benny just watched me, his eyes softening at the sight of my smile, like it was the very reaction he’d been hoping for.

My giggles were relentless, each one bubbling up as Benny's steady, weighted stare and calm honesty chipped away at the shell where I usually hid the nervous, shy part of myself. My hands flew to my cheeks, trying desperately to contain the growing blush and the uncontrollable laughter escaping my lips. I was unraveling, coming undone in the most unexpected way, and all Benny did was stand there, unwavering, his eyes never once trailing away from me. It was like he saw through every barrier I tried to put up, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Okay,” I nodded to myself, as if I was trying to convince my own fluttering heart to settle down. “Have fun.” The words were rushed, almost like I was dismissing him, but really, I was dismissing myself before I completely lost it. I turned on my heel, my head bent low, and without another word, I bolted back to the diner, the sound of my boots tapping against the pavement barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

I practically dove back into the booth, my cheeks burning as Natalie and Lacey burst into a fit of giggles. Lacey nudged me with a knowing smirk, “You lasted a lot longer than we thought.”

Natalie leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought you’d bolt the moment you walked up to him,” she snickered, stirring her straw in her empty milkshake.

“And I thought you’d bolt the moment you stepped out of the diner,” Lacey added, shaking her head in mock disbelief. I buried my face in my arms on the table, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

I mumbled into my sleeves, wishing the world would swallow me whole. I couldn’t believe I had just laughed like an idiot and practically ran away from him.

Benny’s unflinching gaze had shaken something loose in me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Oh, he’s gettin’ on his bike,” Lacey teased, shoving my shoulder to get me to look. “Think he’s waitin’ for yah to look at him.”

Against my better judgment, I peeked up over the booth and glanced out the window. Benny was perched on his bike, his jacket snug around his broad shoulders, looking every bit as cool and composed as ever. The rumble of the bike vibrated through the glass, and when his eyes found mine, he didn’t break the connection. He just sat there, staring, with a look that was both challenging and inviting. My heart skipped a beat as he finally smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and nodded at me like he was saying he’d see me around.

I flushed, my embarrassment hitting a new peak, and instead of sinking back into my seat like my instincts screamed at me to do, I raised my hand in a small, shy wave—an action that I regretted the instant I did it. Benny’s smirk grew, and he revved his bike, the engine’s growl sending a jolt through me. I watched as he pulled away, his figure disappearing into the night, leaving me breathless and hoping, irrationally, that I’d never see him again.

The next day

“You just… said okay and have fun??” Lacey’s voice was scandalized, her eyes wide with disbelief as we sat curled up on the couch in my living room. “THAT’S IT??? AND YOU RAN AWAY!”

Natalie was sprawled out at the other end of the couch, shaking her head with a laugh threatening to spill from her lips. “We taught you better than that, sweet pea,” she teased, her voice laced with playful disappointment as she tucked her legs underneath her, settling into the cushions.

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch cushions as if I could somehow disappear from the mortifying memory of what just happened. I grabbed the fluffy throw blanket draped over the back of the couch and threw it over my head, desperately trying to hide from their relentless teasing. “I PANICKED, OKAY? I COULDN’T HELP IT!” I grumbled, my voice muffled under the soft fabric but still dripping with exasperation.

Natalie couldn’t hold back her snicker, nudging Lacey as they exchanged knowing looks over my blanketed form. “You really ran away from the hot biker staring at you like you were the last thing he’d ever see?” Lacey added, her tone half dramatic, half amused.

I peeked out from under the blanket, my cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. “It was intense, alright? I’ve never had anyone just… look at me like that,” I mumbled, hugging the blanket tighter as if it could somehow shield me from the mess I’d made. “I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘Thanks for staring, wanna grab a milkshake?’”

Lacey burst into laughter, flopping beside me and playfully tugging the blanket down. “Honestly? Yeah, that would’ve been better than ‘okay, have fun.’ You basically told him to buzz off.”

Natalie giggled, shaking her head. “Sweet pea, you’ve got this gorgeous guy wrapped around your finger, and you’re over here running like he’s the plague.”

I pouted, the embarrassment still gnawing at me. “He’s just… different, okay? I wasn’t ready for it. I’ve never had someone just be so honest like that,” I confessed, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions Benny had stirred up.

Lacey smirked, nudging me with her elbow. “And you like it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

I grumbled and just as I was about to sink further into the couch and wallow in my embarrassment, I heard a soft clink of dishes and the faint sound of footsteps. My head snapped up, and there was my mother, peeking around the kitchen door frame with a sly grin plastered on her face. She had clearly been eavesdropping, and the mischievous glint in her eyes told me she had heard every word.

“Mija, are you telling me you ran away from a boy?” she teased, her voice sing-songy and full of amusement as she leaned against the door frame, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “And not just any boy, but a handsome one? I thought I raised you better!”

I groaned, slumping back into the couch as Lacey and Natalie erupted into a fresh round of giggles. “Oh no,” I muttered, hiding my face in my hands. “Not you too, Ma.”

“Oh yes, me too!” she said, stepping fully into the living room with her towel draped over her shoulder. “I didn’t raise you to run away from something good, especially when it’s staring you right in the face.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You should’ve seen the way you were smiling when you came home last night.”

Natalie leaned forward, eyes wide with delight. “See, even your mom knows what’s up! You should’ve gone for it, sweet pea.”

“Exactly,” my mother chimed in, pointing at Natalie as if they were in cahoots. “You need to be bold, mija. Life doesn’t wait, and neither will that boy if you keep running off like that.” She paused, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “Is he really that cute, though?”

I peeked up at her, my cheeks burning brighter as I recalled Benny’s piercing blue eyes and that confident smile. “Yes, Ma,” I admitted reluctantly, knowing there was no hiding from her. “He’s…" My face scrunched as I grinned and blushed, "really really cute, so cute.”

My mother clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and full of excitement. “Ay, Dios mío! I want to meet him! You should bring him to dinner—no, better yet, bring him by when your father’s not here. I need to see for myself this boy who’s got you all flustered.”

“Ma!” I squeaked, utterly mortified as I pulled the blanket back over my head.

“Come on, bring him around,” she coaxed, ignoring my protests. “I’ve got some advice for him on how to handle a Rodriguez woman.”

Natalie and Lacey were practically rolling off the couch at this point, their laughter filling the room. “Sweet pea, you’re never living this down,” Natalie wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. “Your mom’s already planning the wedding.”

“Of course I am,” my mother said, grinning wide. “And you, mija, better be ready to bring that boy over soon. I need to see if he’s worthy of my little girl.”

I peeked out from under the blanket, caught between embarrassment and laughter. My mom had a way of turning even the most nerve-wracking moments into something light and funny, and as much as I hated being the center of attention, I couldn’t help but feel a little warmth spread through me.

I mumbled half-heartedly, “I really don’t want to see him again.”

Lacey snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right. You’ve been blushing non-stop since you ran away like your life depended on it.”

Natalie giggled, “I’m starting to think her face might actually be stuck that way.”

My mother, never one to miss a chance to join in, chimed in with a playful smirk, “Oh, just wait until she finally grows the guts to have a real conversation with him. If she’s not red now, she will be.”

Their laughter filled the room, light, and teasing, like a gentle balm for my lingering embarrassment. As much as I wanted to hide, the warmth of their voices made everything feel a little less daunting.

Taglist: @prettybubblesintheair, @storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog

[yinichigo]

Zelda: Light Enraged

A version of TOTK Zelda where Zelda; upon losing Sonia, snaps, temporarily forsaking her guiding principles of kindness and wisdom in a blind attempt to take out the man who keeps taking away everything she loves.

(little Free writing excerpt below for view into the Mindset of this little au.) (it's gonna be cringe but I gotta share the brainrot with someone. Don't worry it will be below the keep reading line.) (there's a reason I'm an artist not a writer)

____________________________________________

Red. Red like the tainted moon that bathed the world with its horrid light.

Red like Sonia's blood that now stained the late queen's gown.

Red that flowed onto Zelda's arms as she held a woman who she held the lifeless body of one she had come to see almost like a mother close.

Red like the light shining from the now crimson moon that reflected off the tears pouring down Zelda's face as her chest tightened and her body became paralyzed with grief.

Red like the Demon on the Balcony, laughing in victory at it all.

Despite the Demons horrid laugh and shrieking of monsters as they came to life echoed in this distance, Zelda could only hear silence as reality seemed to come to a halt as she looked upon the late queen. It was as if reality was closing in around her, the weight of all her past mistakes holding her like chains. It was as if she was not only looking at Sonia, but Daruk, Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and even her own father. It was as if they were all looming over her judging her for her inability to save anyone she loved. Zelda snapped back to reality momentarily as Rauru call out to Sonia as he entered the room. "You are too late Rauru." the demon said, Self-satisfaction dripping from his voice. "You took for granted the god-like power you had in your hands. Do you see the potential you squandered? As for her, she is merely the first victim of your arrogance." The words were aimed at Rauru, but neither king could how the words would strike the other person still in the room. Taking one hand from Sonia, Zelda slowly reached for the Secret Stone that lay on her chest. This was no demon in front of them, and it definitely was no god. It was just a power-hungry brute who was flaunting stolen might. Might she and Rauru still had. Might that rightfully belonged to sonia. "You tried to control me, Rauru, and you will die knowing that you failed." Ganondorf laughed as he ready to fire his dark magic as the group. "No." the word was barely a breath as it escaped Zelda. "What was that?" Ganon sneered in disgust "I said No" Zelda repeated as she started to stand, "We have given you mercy and in turn you have taken everything we love. Despite your aggression, we gave you mercy, but that is not a mistake we will make again. It is my duty to protect Hyrule, and that's exactly what Intend to do." The smile on Ganondorfs face twisted into a sick grin as the small woman rose and began to approach, "If that is your wish, I would love to see you try." And fired off the spell he had been preparing.

The dark blast approached Zelda, but just as it would consume her, the growing light from the Secret Stone between her fingers deflected it like a shield. When the darkness and smoke cleared, the once gentle Zelda standing had taken on a new appearance; one as powerful as the demon king standing before her and as dark as her rage.

Rauru called out to her but she could no longer hear. For the time being he or she had become just as lost to him as the late queen. Though he didn't want Rauru knew he had to retreat without Zelda, and though he may be able to lay Sonia to rest, a part of him feared that Zelda may never rest again so long as Ganondorf yet lived. He just hoped that perhaps Zelda's lapse in judgement may yet buy him enough time to rally the nations to aid their fight to save Hyrule, and hopefully save Zelda as well.

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: L/A/V save that alpha, L/V/M begone to the witchers, Stitch witch Milena. (Am I going through and asking for snippets of everything that I think sounds interesting? Yes, yes I am.)

Save That Alpha:

The thing is, Lambert is one of her favorite uncles. He taught her to throw a bomb accurately, and curse like a drover, and make a human-safe version of Swallow. He’s prickly and coarse and short-tempered, but he was one of the few Wolves who treated her as anything but a strange burden. She doesn’t want him to spend the rest of his long life mourning an alpha he lost when he was even younger than she is now. And she’s the Lady of Time and Space, isn’t she? And a fully-trained witcher, even if she’s not mutated. That means there shouldn’t really be a challenge out there she can’t overcome with wits or speed or a good sharp sword.

Begone to the Witchers:

“How did the training hike go?” “Well enough; one of the lads found a berry bush.” Aubry is smiling faintly; he’s very fond of his little lads. He’s been in charge of the youngest trainees - the lads too young even for weapons training - for a few decades now, and he’s good at it, patient and calm and gentle. Lambert would’ve been a lot less of a bastard if his first trainer had been someone like Aubry. “Are there any berries left on it?” Vesemir asks dryly. Aubry snorts. “A few. Very high up.”

Thread mage!Milena:

Three big men come storming in through the doorway. Milena has a split second to choose: flee through the portal, or try to protect her bound Guardian. Any other mage she has ever met would run. She lunges across the cabin to fling herself across Aiden’s body, between him and the drawn swords of their attackers, crying, “No! Leave him be!” as she pushes power into the embroidery of her cloak, the shield spell throwing brilliant light onto the walls of the cabin. It ought to deflect weapons made of anything from steel to obsidian, as Milena throws enough power into it that she’s surprised the cloak doesn’t disintegrate. To her surprise, the Wolves pause, swords still held high. And then their leader, a big redhead with a wild light in his eyes, snaps, “Bind and bring them both!”