#living a little dangerously with my reading choices has come to bite me in the ass

[samatheia229]

Gateway Fic or Ruining of Canon?: The Double-Edged Sword of Reading Fanfiction Without Knowing the Source Material

One thing you should know about me is this: I love Outsider POVs an unhealthy amount. I have a separate tab open for this specific tag on my browser and I obsessively reload it every few hours. There’s just something about them that uniquely tickles my brain in a way that other kinds of fics don’t. Maybe it’s some sense of schadenfreude, reading from this out-of-the-loop perspective while we, the readers, are in the know. The feeling of “I know something that you don’t.” Maybe it’s getting to see our favourite characters from a fresh perspective. 

In DC comic Outsider POVs, specifically Batman ones, we get to see what Gotham thinks of their resident vigilantes and how the Bats’ dynamics with each other looks like to an outsider, who doesn’t know the full extent of the intricacies of their relationships. 

There are a lot of reasons why I enjoy Outsider POVs, one of which is the main point of this post.

PART I: GATEWAY FIC

I really do owe it to the POV Outsider tag. Because of it, I have been introduced to so many new fandoms. They've been either the final push I needed to get into fandoms that I knew of but was never really interested in or blindside me and pull me into a new fandom entirely. 

Reading spooky eldritch Danny POVs finally got me into Danny Phantom. One bored scroll and random click introduced me to ROTTMNT, a new favourite of mine (as a Disney kid who grew up with 2012 airing and disliked it, suffice to say Rise's magic and vibrant art was what drew me in). I read a Julie and the Phantoms Outsider POV fic out of curiosity, which made me look it up, and the phenomenal music was the final nail in the coffin. (Please do yourself a favour and listen to the soundtrack.) The onslaught of Good Omens fics flooding the tag following the release of S2, not that I knew it at the time, prompted me to check it out, and lo’ and behold, I am waiting for S3 and praying for my cottagecore-husbands happy ending. Reading a social media AU for Red, White and Royal Blue pushed me to finally buy the book. 

They’ve also gotten me back into fandoms. I fell in love with ATLA again after reading a fic about the palace staff’s opinions on Fire Lord Zuko during the start of his reign; I got back into Assassination Classroom and Haikyuu because of delightful outsider fics. I also started reading Miraculous Ladybug fics again after dropping the whole thing mid-S3, which was a nice full-circle moment since MLB is what got me into fanfic in the first place.

The point is, Outsider POVs have been my gateway into a lot of amazing fandoms that I would not have otherwise checked out and my way back into fandoms that I haven’t been in for a while. 

However, reading fanfiction without knowing the source material can be a double-edged sword. And as of last month, I finally cut myself with it. 

PART II: RUINING OF CANON

Fanfiction is never really an accurate portrayal of canon. By very definition, it cannot be and it seldom is. Fanfiction has a warped lens — characters, their dynamics and the worlds in which they inhabit are written based on an author’s interpretation of the source material. Most fanfic authors actively try to change the source material when they find a part of it lacking or unsatisfactory. That’s the point of fanfiction. Fanfiction exists to explore the infinite possibilities of worlds that could have been, of timelines that never came to pass, of relationships that could have been forged and nurtured but never were. 

But what happens when you, as a reader, are exposed to fanon first? What happens when you end up liking fanon more than canon? 

The short answer: Disappointment and a smaller bank account.

The long answer: You could say that I had it coming. I never really liked dark fantasy, but I love every Six of Crows fanfic I’ve read so I finally decided to read the books. But, gods, I am struggling. And it sucks so much because I do love the characters and Ketterdam and the Suicide Squad-like concept. I can read fanfic for 5 hours straight but barely make my way through a single chapter. I tried switching to another book and coming back to it and still, I trudge through it. It’s terrible. Have I fallen for a romanticised, fanon version of SoC that delivers the found family of criminals that I was promised? Do the books not have that vibe and that’s why I can’t get into them, because I’ve been riding on false expectations?

This is a first for me. I have no issues with spoilers and such because I still enjoy knowing how we got to that point as much as I enjoy going in blindly. I learned the entirety of BNHA via osmosis by reading fanfiction but I still liked the anime when I watched it. Similarly, I read PJO fanfiction long before I read the series, and I still had a delightful time reading Percy's adventures. The fact that I’m not experiencing the same thing with SoC is truly, deeply upsetting. I’m still holding out hope since I'm already halfway through but I might have to DNF if this drags on for another month.

TLDR; There’s nothing wrong with reading fanfic of fandoms you’re not a part of. It might get you into it like the numerous times it did for me. But it could also end up with you liking the fics more than the source material. So, be warned, I guess. 

(Also, if someone has a solution to my SoC problem, do advise, please and thank you. DNF is a last resort.)

[crmsnmth]

Bitter Coffee

The diner's coffee is dark and so bitter that it almost bites. The smell of burnt coffee grounds flow up in a steam warning. Don't drink this, it pleads. Go somewhere else. Somewhere better, but please don't drink this. I close my eyes and take a sip. It's hot, it's bitter, it's instant heartburn in a cup. Start the day the acid reflux way with a handful of Tums and a full shot on pink Pepto Bismuth. Sometimes consequences last a life time and you pay for mistakes forever. My stomach is proof of what drugs do to the insides. I am scar tissue and weak spots where the stomach acid is burning through the walls of my stomach. It will split, and it will hurt, but it will happen and when it does, I can only hope that I'm alone. The doctor's will say theirs nothing here to save, and I'll agree from astral projection. I'll sign a DNR the minute you put it in my face. If there's nothing left to live for, when's left to live? I did this to myself, even though I like to blame others, I know, deep down, it was all my choices that lead my to a a body covered in pinprick scars and white train tracks up and down my forearms. Or the circle burn marks, or the stab wounds in my chest, or the spot where the bullet bounce off my kneecap. I take another sip of coffee and forcefully swallow it down. In a few minutes, the caffeine of trucker coffee will hit me. And I will tremor and shake, and lost train of thought, and feel sicker to my stomach. There's an old man sitting at the corner next me., eating the yolks of his over easy eggs with a piece of diner brand burnt wheat toast. I can see the butter already melted onto the break. It drips off and splatters the polished counter top. He eats nosily, the sounds he makes almost sexual. Letting specks of grease and egg and toast take refuge in a salt shaker beard. A tired looking woman serenades the tables with promises of more acidic coffee and pie and meatloaf and pancakes and sausage links. Menus act as hymnals we read from before the sun rises on a Sunday morning. Most of the people are just waking up and I haven't slept in four days, at the far end of yet another bender. My eyes burn from being open too long and I swear that I can see the very shadows move.

Sometimes I hear my name being called, but there's never anyone who actually knows my name. No one cares. Even my own imaginary friend said fuck this and packed their things and they were gone. Nobody, not even the pretend, want to be around someone who does nothing but try to kill themselves by loophole tricks, who bitch's and moans about a girl who doesn't even remember him, who never can see the good in anything he actually has, who is the definition of cynical. I can't blame the friends who loved me to leave. Nobody wants to watch a loved one self-destruct completely, nobody wants to see a man hellbent on slamming into rock bottom, face first, broken neck. Silence. Peace. I take a sit of my coffee and wonder how these coffee mugs keep the liquid hot much longer than the mugs I have stashed back at home. I look at the mug, getting out of my head, because that's a bad place to be when you're coming down and realizing what you've become and it's sick, and it's gross, and it's dirty and I'm a fucking derelict. I have done my laundry in over a month. I want to apologize. I want to yell in everyone's face. I want to die, I want to live, I want to not be afraid. I want to be less paranoid. I want to take care of myself again, but the little baggie with powdery residue says I'm fucking lying. I'm always lying. I am a con artist, and I'm dangerously good at it. Fall in love with me, and if I keep it up, your mine forever. The tired woman fills my coffee mug for the third time. It's bitter taste stays on my tongue. It distracts me. My head hurts, and my stomach hurts and my body aches. I can't remember all that much for the past few days. And that relieves me because I'm not really sure I want to. I don't want to face the shame I should probably feel. The man next to me finished his food. It is quiet again, other than the sounds of the kitchen, the low drone of other's voice. I signal for my check. Four cups of a coffee and an order of white toast. My stomach hurts. It's time to make it home and sleep this off until the next one starts

[kse22chili]

We were all in trouble.

Suddenly, there was chaos everywhere. I could hear students screaming and yelling continuously, uselessly creating commotion. And he was at the center of the front area of the boarding school I attended at that time. He tilted his head up to the last floor, where my class was. And he knew that I was going to catch him staring at me because I was staring at him too.

That’s where I officially first met him.

Friday is a free day for my class, so like always I brought my tarots.

While reading Rhys’ cards for his week, we hear commotion from outside. We all stand up and everyone goes to check out of the window. I gather all my cards and try to tidy up the class. Me and Ophelia remove every single type of thing that would reveal the actions we were doing.

Rhys calls out at us and hisses “Guys! This is horrible. He has gotten here too. We need to find a way out. Now.”

Ophelia got pale in the face, and nervously started biting her nails. I look at them confused and say “What? Who are you talking about Rhys?”

“Leonidas, Leonidas Constantine. And his men. The Anileis Men.”

The Anileis Men. The Greek mysterious men that are considered the most ruthless men in Monaco, in fact they are serial killers that never reveal themselves to the world. Nobody knows who they are, physically. Just a few know. The dark sides of this world. Such as, mafia families, royal families and politicians. And you might be thinking, how did Rhys recognize them? First thing is that they all wear a ghost-like mask, and second clue is their way of making a scene in their own habitat, where you can clearly notice that they have come for the next victims or thie new mission. They appear out of nowhere, in a sunny day and trap you with your own feet. How's that possible? Beats me.

Now, the third thing is that Rhys personally knows him; he is my best friend, classmate and only son of the Irish mafia's king. So, that makes him a prince. He has told me that he first met Leonidas Constantine when he was five years old, at an important meeting that his father had to go to. Apparently, Ceallach (KEHL-akh, "war"), the king, had no choice but to bring his son with him because there was a war going back at home.

Actually, there's where I met Rhys too, now that I think of it. And yes. I saw Leonidas' real face there for the first time. He truly was ruthless; he had large scars on the sides of his mouth that could terrify a little girl like me that was hiding behind her dad's legs. He was so tall that everybody else looked short as hell in front of him, he could be like 1,98m (6.5ft). He was large and big like a God, the aura that surrounded him proved that that man was a fucking monster. While he was talking to my father, he averted his eyes at me. He stared at me like I was an angel that shouldn't belong in their world. And than he looked back at my father. Never met him again after that.

One thing you surely don't know is that my class and I belong to that dark side of the world. We are all children of dangerous and merciless men. Our parents, all friends and obviously in good terms, enrolled us all to this weird ass boarding school in the place where every single powerful men lives and where we were raised in, Monaco. I'm unfortunately not Monegasque. But I would have loved to. I was born in Dallas, TX. The only daughter and the only sister out of four brothers in the family of the American-Spanish mafia.

Turning back to the present time, I surprisingly look at Rhys' eyes, repeating those words in my head. Why has he come here?

I go to the window and look down at the area where the commotion is having action. There he is. He is at the center of the area, admiring the scene with his four most trusted men: Elias, Orion, Lysander and Zeno. They are all standing proudly, listenting to the screaming students all around them. They don't care about them. They have come here for someone. This is another mission to them.

All of a sudden, the tallest of them all raises his head and stares directly at me. I look at him and notice that those eyes are the same eyes that studied me when I first met him. He tilts his head at the side and nods at me. I furrow my eyebrows and he just shrugs his shoulder and raises a finger at me. For what? I'm not certain. But then, I get it. He has come here for me.

wattpad story

to read it all fllw the acc : @bakugoismybby

[keicordelle]

Wounded, Ch. 1

Fandom: FFXIV Rating: E Pairing: Estimeric Word Count: 1.7k Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Caretaking, Bathing/Washing, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings, POV First Person, POV Estinien Wyrmblood

Summary: What was supposed to be a standard patrol turns deadly when dravanians descend, leaving Aymeric and Estinien to fight seemingly endless waves of the beasts as they search for a means to overcome the odds and escape with their lives. They succeed, but not before a devastating blow sends Estinien flying, leaving him wounded and unconscious in the snow. Free from the threat of their foes but not out of danger yet, Aymeric has no choice but to carry his injured lover to safety and watch over him as he heals - all while trying to fend off Estinien's amorous designs. But when has Aymeric ever been able to hold out against his lover's desires?

-

"They just keep coming!" I brandished my lance at the dragon before me, it's breath like rotted meat and festering wounds roiling down my throat to make me want to gag. Experience was all that held down my gorge as it snapped its jaws at me and I thrust up at its chin. Sweat rolled down my temple, its sticky path instantly chilled by the biting cold.

"We'll just have to hold out," Aymeric called out from his position at my back, where he held the attention of three other dragons he was keeping off me, not simple dragonets but fully grown horrors whose fierce maws dripped with ire and sought to slurp the entrails from our corpses. Bright light reflected off the snow as he summoned divine magic to blast at them. "Keep watch for an opportunity to escape!"

My only response was a low growl, letting my lance speak for me as I speared into the gut of my foe. How did we end up in this situation? It was supposed to have been a simple, routine patrol, nothing more than a formality so Aymeric could check in on our more distant encampments. I'd expected to find some reports of animal and elemental attacks and perhaps a smattering of draconic mutterings. There had been little dravanian activity in the Eastern Highlands since Nidhogg's defeat, and certainly nothing of this calibre.

To hell with this. With an angry shout like a war cry, I launched myself into the air, arrowing down on the dragon before me and spearing it through the head. The impact rattled through my body as the beast let out a pained roar and collapsed, it's hulking carcass blocking the way of the two smaller dravanians that wished to take its place.

I ignored them, whirling around instead to strike at the enemies surrounding Aymeric, who had lined themselves up ever so nicely for me. "Hold them still!" I called, shifting until I could hurl my spear through all three at once. In a rush of power, I sent a Geirskogul flying towards them, the ringing sound of its wake echoing in my ears.

As one, three heads swivelled to face me, but Aymeric was prepared, striking out at them with a whistling call that regained their attention and drew the enmity of the two newcomers as well. They snapped at him, their yellowed fangs closing around his off hand, the barrage of their strikes landing despite his efforts to parry. His eyes narrowed at the sting as fang and claw pierced through the weak points in his armor, blood welling to drip lines of crimson down his tabard.

-

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[dcviated]

@wiildhearrted sent: She's vulnerable, for once, walls down (mostly), and she can't even blame the booze. She's only had half a beer. Nikki's been lost in her thoughts for a while, unusually quiet and pensive. Looking over in his direction, there's something clouding her dark blue eyes, and even she isn't quite sure what. "Why'd you do it, Wy?" Not taking her to Lucas. She was a stranger when he'd made that deal. No, that's not what confused her. "Why'd you come back for me?"

Wylan doesn't respond, not immediately. There are- included within that contemplative hesitation- two pauses.

The first is one of dismissive expectancy. Since when did Nikki, an individual who tread a sharp edge between toleration and hostility, want to connect with him? Wylan waits for the other side of the hand. The backhanded remark that derides him or dismisses any emotional impact of the words previously said. Both of them excelled at that, after all. Maybe it was why they could still spend time together despite... everything. Inability to connect. To put meaning into anything they did that lasted into the rays of the next day's morning.

Ha. Is he disappointed? When that doesn't come? Or is he excited? Hell if the infected lycanthrope can properly place it. For all his ability to read people such skill seemed to only apply well to others and their own problems. Now it applies to him. And he's in such denial that... ugh.

Ha. A frown. The checkpoint from one pause to another. Well, if the punchline wasn't coming, where did that leave him? Finding an answer. Obviously.

...obviously...

"Haha."

He knows it's in him. Answers. And the ability to give them. He knows the what's and why's. Phrasing those in a way that made any sense (both to himself and to the listener) would be the tricky part of the equation. For a mercurial wanderer such as himself that would likely always be the case. A self-obfuscating conundrum. But. Nikki deserved a straight answer. And he owed it to himself to air that. So, after formulating something he shifts in his place, putting together another cracker sandwich from the container on the table.

"Before I was turned. Before I got into this... part and place of my work. I didn't get to make as many choices about myself as I'd have liked. I lived free enough, but it still boiled down to the beck and call of others I worked for. Lots of strings, y'know. And... uh. Maybe that changed. A bit. Or I wanted it to. Do this work for better reasons. Or something like that." His face wrinkles, and he takes a bite of the cracker he'd set up with ham and cheese. No, he wasn't drinking.

"When I took that job from Lucas, it was under the assumption that you were something dangerous left out in the world on your own. Call it what you want, but the man phrased it and convinced well enough of it. That he convinced himself may have been what got me on the job. To track you down. Find you. Bring you back. But." Face wrinkles again, and fingers rub two crumbs of cracker between them.

"Even if it was for just a little bit, I still got to know enough about you." The crumb is flicked. An action that garners the attention of the two wolves, but not enough to get them to rise from their place (at his feet). "To feel... doubts. So when I took you in, and left you with Lucas." Wylan gestures a hand, waving off the particulars of that ordeal. "Those had taken enough root to make me change my mind. And maybe. Probably." Wylan bites back the growing humor in his throat, the attempt to distance himself from the earnest manner of this conversation. Not fun.

"...no, that's exactly why I did it. Came back. Killed him. Because it felt like I was just another tool again, and not even serving some good purpose. Leaving you to him. It'd be like I was the reason this little corner of the world lost something good." Wylan sits now, arms folded, leaning back in the chair, brows furrowed.

"I'm an assassin. Don't think that ever will or can change, but I want to keep myself to a better ... code? Something like that. I can't let myself just be another killer. Is what I'm getting at. And I don't know. What I do know, is it feels like it was worth it. And I haven't regretted making the choice I did yet. Even if I still might pay for making it later."

Shrugs.

"Deal with that when it happens. Right?"

[voxiiferous]

“Is this recent or…” not that he has any idea how long he’s even been dead. He only vaguely knows the year is the future, and that meant very little. Part of him doesn’t want to know, his boundless desire for knowledge finally reaching an end, or at least a question he doesn’t want to think about. What man likes the thought of their own death? “Is Vox willing to compromise?” From what he’s seen of the demon, it’s hard to imagine Vox as anything other than in charge of not unflappable. His screen has lost its signal when he’d opened the door. He’s also not entirely certain this version of his is nearly as open to… biting his tongue and simply nodding when people are saying things that are just wrong. “What are they so diametrically opposed on?”

Vincent hums, the last piece of clothing put back into place a she sits back on the bed. “That seems a dangerous position to play.” For a moment, he’s reminded of the war profiteers, a few of whom were still going to or awaiting trial. “It seems they’re some powerful, and I’d hate for something to happen just because you had a friend.” In a situation this possibly volatile there was an only too much risk for a scandal, even more so when one of the parties, at least, is so high profile. It’s so much a sort of why, interest aside, he’ll never act in any of his attractions. All it would toSe is one person to see and to want a moment of fame, and the careers he’s built would be forfeit.

“Only a coward or a poor contract writer needs to resort to such… distasteful methods.” That all seems… like a case with some mighty fine print. Even normal business contracts are need with him reading over them some half dozen times to make sure that he didn’t miss anything. And sure, he could understand where the reassurance might come in— even just walking down the street what seen demons looking at him with a cross between hunger and desire. Still though, the idea of selling your seems like the sort of choice you don’t want to make lightly. “I won’t say I’m wholly and completely for unions, but I sincerely hope that Vox didn’t abandon the principle that has me prefer them to child labour and unrestrained conditions.”

He laughs at the image of someone who owned another soul bribing them into spending time. What a strange place indeed. The other type makes him grimace— he might not like a lot of people, some of his co-workers among them, but still, they all had to live down here together, surely the smart choice was not bind them into servitude either? That seemed to him, to be a good way to breed mutiny. “Fascinating man you’ve got there. You said ‘creator’, how exwclty does that…” he gestures towards Astor, shuffling his fingers to indicate everything. “Work, exactly?”

It’s hard not to stiffen slightly at the touch. It’s not bad just.. catches him off guard. Astor feels different than humans do, colder, not as… dare he say, lifelike, but he doesn’t emanate with the static and synthetic materials of Vox either. It’s rare to be able to describe something as alien, but Astor certainly seems it. “I’m not sure how much he’s told you. I could tell you ‘bout the worst exam I ever took— a third year engineering class— or about the movies they used to play at the cinema I worked as when I was young, but I’m not sure if it would prove anything to you.”

“In the flesh. Never was the sort of kid anyone figured was replaced by a changeling. Too tied down to my books and the mechanisms I could invent.” He blinks, and nods, looking down at the pale veins under the surface of his skin. “Have you really never seen one before?”

Vincent blinks, holding up a hand as he sits on the edge of Vox's bed, watching Astor look through Vox's closet: shirts, blazers, pants, vests, pushed to one side, what looks to be a single pair of shorts, and a patterned, short-sleeved button down, two pairs of sweatpants, two t-shirts, one sweater, a sleep-robe.

"Wait, wait, fights your creator?" He's about to ask 'you weren't human?' before deciding against it, the fact that Astor didn't realize he was human probably gave that away. "You're friends with someone your... Alastor doesn't like? Why?" Which feels, simultaneously, a question of why Astor is friends with him, and why Vox and Alastor don't get on.

He folds his feet up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, and leaning just slightly enough to see past Astor. "I doubt you'll find much of that in here." He says. He follows the path of discarded clothes, and looks back at the closet. At least the organizational system seems clear. He unfolds, and starts to pick up the clothes to put them back in the closet. "it seems to be mostly..." he gestures at his own outfit-- button down, teal vest, and wide-legged trousers, all very fitting for the time, "Like I-- we? Wore in life."

He stops, as he sets a blazer on the rack, turning to look at Astor. "I'm sorry, what? Soul contracts? I might not be a man of God, but even I know that selling your soul tends to be a universally bad idea." No, that particular chicken had flown the coop some twenty years hence, but it hadn't stopped him reading Faust and seeing exactly what sort fo a trouble a man could get into. "Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris."

He lifts an eyebrow, as he continues to put the clothing back. "Yes, the living smell rather... different than the scent of Hell." Walking through the streets hadn't exactly been pleasant, enough, at times, to be like New York, and yet altogether alien at once.

He laughs, and tilts his head in agreement, spreading his hands in the same gesture Vox defaults to, if unknowingly. "I can't be certain that any I share he still does-- and you're probably right, the television is a bit obvious." He hums, considering. What hobbies did he have? "I'm a mighty fine dancer if I say so, and I can carry a tune half decently." Did Vox still dance? He can't imagine giving it up, but then again, there were bound to be more things to do in the future, and he's certain that managing as much of the city as his future self seems to, that there may not be a ton of chance for it.

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers With an MC That’s Only Soft for Them

So, cute Headcanons are my kryptonite! Please enjoy, my fluff loving brethren!

Lucifer

We at Stupid Headcanons inc. recommend that MC does not inflate this bastard’s ego further, but if they choose to…

Lucifer, the morning star, a high ranking demon, does not need MC’s affection… that was a lie he C R A V E S it.

This pairing is actually quite complimentary, Lucifer is only soft for MC, MC is only soft for Lucifer, perfectly balanced.

MC shouldn’t expect Lucifer to be too reciprocal to their affections in public until they’re both neck deep into the relationship, but in private, hoo boy.

The “good job!”s, the hugs, the quick pecks on the cheek, all of it just made Lucifer practically melt. He adores all the affection, and it’s all for him.

Finally, someone in this house appreciates him…

“Lucifer, try not to overwork yourself, if you need anything, just ask, okay?” “Thank you, MC.” “Hey MC! I need help, pass me the remote.” “YOU CAN WALK OFF A CLIFF BELPHIE! Love you, Lucifer.”

And to be honest, some of the roasts are funny, but MC, dearest, please dial down the sass near Lord Diavolo.

Mammon

Of course MC’s favourite is the Great Mammon! Heh, who else would it be? Not that he needs this human’s affection or anything!

…screw it, please MC, give him more head pats.

Hand holding, hugs, resting his head on MC’s lap… Mammon’s really living the life.

In public Mammon is constantly trying to get MC to shower him in praise and affection in his own weird tsundere kind of way. It’s good thing MC is always willing to give their demon all the love they have.

It just makes him so happy that all of MC’s affection belongs to him, it makes his greedy little heart sing.

MC’s love and care tragically does not save him from being caught for his shenanigans, but MC, stone cold bitch that they are, will always do something bad to get strung up next to him.

“MC, what’re ya doin’ here?” “Oh you know babe, just hanging around.”

Nothing makes him smile more than when they stick up for him, to MC, he isn’t scummy trash, he’s the great Mammon! Their super amazing guardian! He does what he can to live up to MC’s image of him!

Since Mammon’s super supportive of his human, he’ll always provide reaction sound affects whenever MC delivers a verbal smack down.

Levi

MC likes him? Must be a joke. Who’d like a gross Otaku like him…?

The human exchange student apparently.

They’d listen with a look of pure adoration on their face whenever Levi would ramble about his favourite anime, they’d help him organize his figurines, they’d play video games with him…

Man… MC’s really playing the long con here on this practical joke.

When Levi isn’t drowning in self doubt, he absolutely loves how sweet and gentle MC is around him, a side only he gets to see… *swoon*

A cold mean character that’s only soft for their love interest??? That’s one of Levi’s top five favourite romantic tropes!

Levi’s often taking notes on MC’s snappy remarks so he can sass people while he streams, he’s not too good at it, so he just streams with MC present. His viewership goes up whenever exponentially whenever MC says anything.

“Someone in the chat just said I must be insanely lonely-” “There’s no way in hell you’re lonelier than that guy at night. His bed ranks number one in the top ten loneliest places ever.”

Satan

At first, Satan took more of an analytical interest in MC’s attitude, they’re either suicidally impulsive or very confident in their ability to run from danger if they think they can sass demons and get away unscathed.

Once the two connect and MC goes soft for him, it’s game over. Satan’s weakness is cute things, and nothing is cuter to him than his usually mean MC raining affection and compliments down upon him!

Satan finally has a leg up on Lucifer! The human adores him and isn’t afraid to talk back to that pretentious motherfucker-

MC sits in Satan’s lap and the two read together, they smuggle cats into the house, they lay in bed together plotting the downfall of their enemies… just normal couple things.

Sometimes MC just sits next to him and makes a particularly nasty quip at someone else, then give him a big ol kiss on the cheek.

It just makes him oh so happy…

“Honey, I brought you tea!” “Ah, thank you MC.” “I took it from Lucifer’s private stash of relaxing tea :D” “You really are my soulmate, aren’t you?”

Asmo

Gasp! MC’s so mean! Do it more!

Asmo, sassy god he is, appreciates a good snide remark or twelve, so he’s always got a front row seat to MC’s shennaniganery.

Before the pact, he was back in the peanut gallery with Satan wondering when MC’s words would come back to bite them, but after the pact, nothing’s touching the human. Their sass is completely consequence-less as long as Asmo’s around!

These two are a match made in hell, literally. Asmo and MC get to be so in sync that they manage to make each other’s insults better by working together.

“I’d give you the name of a few surgery places but I don’t think they implant brains into unlucky people like yourself.” “They might be able to implant a better personality though~.”

Asmo’s fully willing to flaunt his relationship in public. Sort of in a “look at us! MC’s only nice to me! Eat shit losers!” kind of way.

It isn’t all vanity and insults, MC always finds a way to make Asmo feel better whenever he’s feeling down. MC makes sure to tell Asmo as often as possible that they love him for more than just his looks, and it makes the Avatar of Lust swoon.

Just as long as MC never turns their razor sharp wit on Asmo, he’s their cheerleader forever.

Beel

Good choice, MC.

Despite his resting bitch face, Beel’s a big softie, everyone knows that, and as the Simpsons said, ‘the strong must protect the sweet’.

Well… MC isn’t as strong as Beel, but they will verbally eviscerate anyone who even dares insinuate anything not nice about their precious gigantic cinnamon roll!

“Listen up bitches! Not you Beel, we’re all glad you’re here.” “^_^” “Y’ALL ARE IN DEEP SHIT.”

Beel loves how affectionate MC is! Doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, he and MC are almost always at least holding hands.

MC always has emergency snacks on them, they never get upset when Beel eats everything in the house, they just smile and hand over whatever food they have on them and help fix the problem.

Beel is probably one of the only characters who would try and get MC to branch out and be nicer to everyone and not just him. Whether this works depends on MC.

Belphie

Does he deserve this? No. Did he almost start crying when MC began to show him genuine care and affection? Yes. Does he nearly die of laughter every time MC snaps at someone? Yes.

Belphie’s not sure why MC decided that they were going to love him of all demons… but they just… understand him.

They listened patiently and offered a shoulder to cry on, even after he hurt them… their understanding, their compassion, just wow. Belphie really lucked out.

MC lets him nap, fluffs his pillows, reminds him to wash his pillow cases and comforter, gets him sushi, like geez… what a simp… *sniffle*

In return, Belphie offers cuddles. Cuddles and quality time together. For the first time in how many millennia Belphie is going to get off his ass and do something for someone if they ask.

It’s a miracle.

Belphie isn’t one for flaunting a relationship but… he may just let some people know that this super mean human likes him the most by giving his human a quick kiss.

[mona-stay]

Secrets part 3 Peter Hale

Paring - Peter Hale x Reader

Warnings - smut finally

Part 1. Part 2

You drove straight to Derek’s, still feeling a little shaken up after what Theo had done. Outside Peters Shelby wasn’t there, you didn’t know if you were happy or sad not to see it. When you got inside to your surprise Peter was there sat reading his book. He’d actually agreed to car pool with you.

 

Stiles and Liam both cheered as you walk in, Stiles calling you a good luck charm after the win today. How you managed to get coach to listen to your ideas. For the next few hours you all laughed, talked, drank and ate.

 

It was at this point, Derek being one of the closest to you noticed your neck. “what happened” he said, Peter now in his feet coming over to see. You explain about Theo’s threat and how he tried to strangle you.

 

“I’m gonna kill the little runt” Peter said heading for the door. You grabbed his arm, stopping him.

 

“don’t, Stiles’ dad’s took him, Coach is having him expelled and if he’s stupid enough to back at me then you all have my permission to kill him. But for now can we just forget about it” you say to him. Peter clenches his jaw but agrees he’ll leave Theo to sheriff Stilinski for now.

You watch Peter return to his book as Lydia pulls you to one side asking to talk. Stepping away to a more private part of the loft you wait to see what’s wrong. “what’s going on with you and Peter?” she asks outright.

 

You blush “nothing, what do you mean?” you say coyly. Maybe you needed to tone down your stirring at the handsome wolf.

 

“I seen him today at the game, his arms around you before fighting with Theo. Are you two dating now?” she asks a little concerned.

 

Shaking your head no “that was to wind up Theo. Peters version of leave her alone I think, not like it worked” you told her, not really sure why Peter had started on Theo the way he did. “and besides even if I did like Peter, I don’t think he likes me like that”. You say looking down not letting her see the sadness you felt.

 

“oh, I doubt that. The way he is around you, looks at you. I think Peter likes you, I’ve always thought that especially after you saved him” she says.

 

You wished it was true but knew differently, you’d kissed him wanted more he told you no. “No, I think Peter just likes the game, I know he wouldn’t want me like that” you say hoping to end the conversation.

 

Lydia eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t question it. She looks over at Peter who watches y/n out the corner of his eye like he’d always done. She was going to ask him but knew Peter would never tell her the truth.

 

Peter sat just watching everyone else, what he always did when Scott used the loft for after games celebration. It was only pack members but for Peter it was still way too many.

 

He glanced over to y/n now she’d finished her chat with Lydia, he was about to gain your attention until Liam got it first asking her to dance. To Peter’s annoyance you agreed, going over to dance with him, Lydia, Stiles and Malia.

 

Peter growled watching as they young pups hands tried to move down your body. He found himself thinking how dare Liam touch what’s his, even if you wasn’t, its all Peter truly wanted. He hated even more you hadn’t stopped it. That you just moved slightly so he wasn’t touching anymore still laughing and dancing.

 

For the third time Liam’s hand come inches away from your ass. This time you decide not to move out of his way, nope you decide to see Peter’s reaction. Your eyes lock with his, he’s stirring with a snarl. You wink at him hoping to push him to come over do or say something but he doesn’t.  He gets up and walked to his old room. You sigh Peter hadn’t got jealous.

 

With Peter gone and the song finished you went to find something to drink. Everyone turned seeing the loft door open, Cory walked in scanning the room. Mason was happy to see about to give him a hug but Cory walked past him straight to Scott, his eyes flicking to you.

 

“Theo’s been arrested and he thinks Peter is up to something. He says Peters an alpha and y/n’s in danger” Cory blurted out. You sigh, it wouldn’t take Theo long to spill Peters secret.

 

Everyone looks at you, taking one or two breaths trying to keep your heart beat stable. “is this true” Scott asked.

 

“not as far as I know” you say hoping the wolfs wouldn’t notice the lie. After being with Theo you learned how to control some tell-tale signs of lying. “Theo has been arrested for trying to kill me” you tell Corey showing him your neck. So now he’s using lies, he knows I’m living in Peters and trying to find a way to turn you lot against him. Peter wouldn’t hurt me, in fact Peters been more respectful in the last two weeks than Theo has in two years. So what ever he’s told you Cory ignore it, I would.” You say hoping the rest believe you.

 

Derek agrees “y/n right Peter would never hurt her, yes he’d hurt a lot of people but I don’t think he’d do anything to her” he says knowing his uncles not so secret feelings for y/n. Although the Peter being an alpha was something Derek wasn’t sure about, it’s possible but surely he’d know.

 

Peter walks down the stairs “what have I meant to done now” he smirks. He’s eyes meet yours a small head tilt and smile tells you he’d heard what you said.

 

“Theo thinks your an alpha”  Scott says eyeing up Peter, arms folded, more or less asking the question without words.

 

“if I was Scott, you’d be dead” Peter jokes knowing they wouldn’t question it more. “anyway I’m ready to head home, y/n shall we your my lift” add.  You nod saying your goodbyes.

 

Once in the car Peter seemed quiet lost in his own thoughts. “thanks” he said eventually.

 

“what for?”  you asked not sure what he was thanking you for.

 

“keeping my secret. You didn’t have to lie for me but you did so thank you” he said.

 

You smiled, you had promised you’d keep his secret and did. Even if Theo knew the truth you still wouldn’t rat Peter out. “I keep my promises, I’m a good girl like that” you say.

 

Peter laughs but doesn’t look up at you. “I’m sorry Theo outed you” you say. Peter just shrugs it wasn’t your fault.

 

“sorry he tried to strangle you” he said, thinking he was party to blame for pushing Theo. Also making a mental note to kill him next time he saw him. You smile back saying wasn’t his fault.

Back at the penthouse you walk in the door, as soon as it shuts you take your t-shirt off, showing of your sports bra. Dumping the top in the washing basket you say to Peter your getting in the shower. Giving him a full view of your body hoping after today he’d still be in a touchy mood.

 

Peter headed straight to his whiskey cabinet. His mixed feeling were getting the better of him, ten minutes ago he was jealous then seeing you lie for him made him love you so much more. And then your mini show for him then left almost nothing to his imagination.

 

 He downed his drink refilling it, tonight he was going put an end to this dam game once and for all. No matter what you decide he was done playing.

 

You come down after your shower in short pyjama shorts and top. You didn’t miss the way Peters eyes widened as you walk past swaying your hips.

 

You watch Peter, he seems off you’d noticed it since the game ended. You smirk a thought coming to your head a way get what you want and cheer him up.

 

You open the fridge, getting out a bottle of juice, choosing not to have alcohol so he can’t say your drunk this time. You stretch up high reaching for one of the glasses on the taller shelf, making little noises to get his attention. Once you have the glass you smile giving him a small wink but he didn’t smile back. He turns his head away.

 

You sigh, filling the glass you walk to where he’s sat, sitting on the arm of the chair. “you know sour wolf is Derek’s nickname. This kind of pouting doesn’t look good on you” you say, swinging your legs over his, one foot resting on the top of his thigh, your toes dangerously close to his package.

 

“what are you doing y/n” he asks, unsure what else to do with his mixed feelings right now.

 

“I’m hoping to put a smile on your face, plus I owe you a thank you for coming to the game today” you say moving your toes a little to tease him.

 

He sighed keeping his face straight “I think you should stop y/n” he tone was stern.

 

You look at him confused, the first night from the bar flashing back at you. Maybe you worry wasn’t for nothing, maybe he really didn’t want you.

 

“Trying to find a way to cheer you up, do you really want me to stop. Peter.” You say nudging your foot over his cock.

 

Peter grabbed your foot, “y/n stop, I can’t do this anymore” he said looking you in the eye. Seeing your smile fade he went on to explain. “I can’t play this game we’ve been playing. I thought I could but I can’t.” He says low

 

You didn’t speak, just watch as he runs his hand though his hair, thinking about what he wanted to say next “I can’t handle your looks, touches the way you act like you want me. I can’t handle you falling asleep on my knee and I certainly can’t handle carrying you to bed and it not being mine. Ever since we kissed that night after the bar, all I think about is how much I want you, how you should be mine. How foolish I was acting like the good guy, pushing you away say no because you were drunk and upset, when I should have been the selfish bad guy”

 

He’s words were cut off when you grab him, smashing your lips with his. He was surprised by your action and didn’t move, just closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of you on his lips.

 

You pull back biting back a smile “good, I don’t think I could of handled it any more too, I was hoping you would have said something sooner” you say. This time Peter kisses you, this one more passionate but still light and closed mouthed.

 

His hand slides up the outside of your leg finding your hip. “I promised you I wouldn’t sweetheart, that night I gave you a choice, if you still wanted me in the morning I’d take you to bed, or promise I’d never bring it up” he laughed as his fingers traces circles on your hips.

 

You giggle, almost forgetting he’d said that “then take me to bed Alpha” you playfully order.

 

Peter had other ideas, he pulled you off the arm of the chair onto his lap. Kissing and nipping at you neck “thought you’d never ask” he said flashing his eyes red, scooping you do he can stand with you still in place.

 

You playfully slap him before kissing and biting his jawline and neck. He carries you up the stairs to his room, finally getting the girl he’d wished for and this time he wasn’t going to let you slip away. Peter laid you on his bed gently, leaning over you stirring deep into your eyes “you definitely want this sweetheart?” he asked once last time. You didn’t answer with words. Capturing his lips on yours pulling him closer for more.

 

Peter grabbed the hem of your vest top, slowly sliding it up, his lips following the material until he reached your boobs. He nips and kisses the parts of your boos that isn’t hidden by your black lace bra as he pulls your top off completely.

 

“Peter” you moan. He smiles at you as he comes back for another fast, hungry passionate kiss. He didn’t care how much you beg, he was going to take his time. He was going to make sure you never wanted anyone else but him after tonight.

 

You watched Peter when he broke the kiss apart, pulling his own shirt over his head. You look over his chest, taking in every line, curve and  ripple that makes him. Leaning up on your elbows to get a better, fuller view of him as he started to undo his jeans.

 

You bit your lip, as he slowly slid them off tossing the behind him. He smirked “like what you see” he chuckled before sliding his hand up your legs pulling down your shorts leaving you in your underwear. This time it was Peters turn to admire you, his eyes raked up and down your body “beautiful” he said coming to kiss you.

 

Your hands went to his chest, trailing around his neck, as you pull the hair at the back of his head. Arching your back so he can unclasp your bra he throws it the away like he did his jeans. He leans back to look at you again before kissing your boob his and playing with the other one.

 

Running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in as he bites on your nipple rolling the hardened bud in his teeth. You could already feel how hard Peter is, his member pressing against the top of your thigh. You moved your hips to grind against him.

 

Peter took it as a hint, he gently let his fingers down your stomach, sending goose bumps over your skin. He rubbed your covered core making you moan, under his touch. He smiled feeling how wet you were for him, how your body reacted to him. His kisses follow the same path his hand had stopping just above your pantie line. He pulls them down not taking his eyes from yours.

 

He only looks away when there off and he kisses his way up your legs biting your inner thighs. You reach down tangling your fingers in his hair as he licks along clit. You hum and whine as he teases you with his tongue, wanting and needing more. “quit teasing please Peter” you say.

 

“only because you said please”  he chuckles, sliding a finger in you. Your hips buckle as he wastes no time finding the spots that make you cry his name. It wasn’t long before he adds a second. He let’s them explore you, taking in the places that make you moan and cry for him. Before bringing his tongue too your clit to increase the pleasure you felt.

 

Peter knew you were close and didn’t let up swapping his mouth for his thick thumb. “cum for me sweetheart, I want to see you come apart for me” he practically sang. Before you knew it you were pushed over the end, clenching around his fingers, screaming a mix of ‘oh god and Peter’

 

Peter brought his fingers to his lips humming as he licked your cum from them. Leaning over you he kisses you, you feel his tip at your entrance. He let’s it roll along your swollen lips and cups your cheek with his hand. “I’ve wanted this for so long sweetheart” he says lining himself up.

 

He slowly enters you, feeling bigger than you imagined filling and stretching you in the most amazing way. The growl he makes, almost animalistic once he’s deep as he can go. “fuck me Peter” you cry, you didn’t have to ask twice, for him to start moving.

 

Peter was anything but gentle and you loved it. His thrusts were hard and sharp, hitting spots and places you didn’t know existed. You wasn’t gentle too, if Peter didn’t heal, your own scratch marks would have been visible tomorrow.

 

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and so could he. You whine a little as Peter pulls out but before you could moan any words. He flips you over so your now on your hands, entering you again with one fast hard thrust. Once he was settled inside you, he pulls you close so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands on your boobs kissing your neck, all you could do was reach up to grab his hair.

 

You moan his name loving the new position your in. He bucks his hips sending a new pleasure though you.  Trying to turn your head, a new wave of arousal filled your stomach seeing him, sweaty, sexy and those bright red eyes. “Peter, make me yours, bite me” you moan out on the verge of your next orgasm. “make me your little wolf, alpha”  you beg. His growl mixed with his dick hitting your g-spot sent you hurling into your orgasm.

 

Your walls clenching around him as he feels you cum on his dick, mixed with your words send Peter over the edge. His thrusts get sloppy but he doesn’t let up, the sound of you begging he let’s his teeth scratch lightly over your neck but resists the urge to sink then in as he cums deep inside you. “your amazing” he whispers, not caring if you heard or not as he slips out of you.

 

You fall on the bed, out of breath, worn out. Peter hands you a drink before pulling you into his arms. Kissing your head

 

**

You laid naked in Peters bed, his arms around you, holding you close. He kissed the top of your head as you made little soft murmurs in your sleep. He was still stunned last night actually happened, that you’d chosen him, asked and begged for him. He hoped it wasn’t a one time thing. He also hadn’t forgotten your high on sex driven request of becoming his beta, butting and turning her. He wasn’t gonna lie, the thought passed his mind. He almost caved as you clenched around him begging to be his, his little wolf.

 

Peter didn’t do it, almost for the same reason he didn’t sleep with you the first night you entered his penthouse. He worried you’d regret it the next day and hate him for it. He decided he would bring it up again in a few days see how you felt then

 

He smiles as your started to wake, “morning sweetheart” he says, bring his lips close to yours, kind of testing if it was a one night stand for you. To his delight you lean up kissing him. “breakfast? He asked.

 

You shook your head no holding him tighter “I don’t wanna move or you to move, I’m comfy like this” you say. Peter smirks letting himself settle. You stayed there almost an hour, sharing hugs and kisses before you had to get up to go the bathroom. Peter kisses you heading down the kitchen in his boxers.

 

You take a second to take in how yummy his ass looked in the tight silk. When you go down Peter had you a coffee ready. He wanted to bring up what last night meant, if it meant as much to you as it did to him.

 

After breakfast he’d mentally asked you 10 different ways all sounds as bad as the one before. “what’s on your mind?” you ask him noticing him stirring into space.

 

“did you mean what you about wanting to be mine?”  he asked out right, there was no other way to say it.

 

You pull yourself onto his lap looking him deep in the eyes “yes I meant it, I meant it all. I want to be with you, be your little wolf I want you peter” you say before kissing him.

 

He smiles a full happy, and slightly relieved smile. “good it’s all I want too” he says kissing your neck. He promised to bite you on the next full moon but until then you were happy just to be his girlfriend. “you know both Scott’s and Theo’s pack won’t be happy if I turn you” he joked.

 

You kiss him again, “I don’t care what they think,  I want it and I’m happy with you” you say reassuring him. You smirk “buyt until we find a way to tell them it can be our newest secret”

[cazimagines]

Perfectly Exasperating - Chapter 3

Synopsis: While you have been unknowingly kidnapped Zemo is determined to make the time he spends with you the best that he can

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: Hey all! This is sorta a one-month celebration of my account and for all the love you guys have shown this series and my other series 'A Freudian Slip' I can't thank you enough! My editing program decided to screw me over though so if you can see a difference grammatically in the first half and the second half that's why

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the warmth from the sun shining through the curtains touching your skin waking you up. Yawning and stretching, feeling the soft duvet move on top of you, you sighed in content, closing your eyes again as you embraced the happiness which had been foreign to you for so long. You reach out to seize the end of the duvet and gradually slide out of the bed; you feel the slight chill of the morning breeze brush against your exposed legs. Crossing over to the wardrobe your hand reaches out to flick through the many dresses, shirts, trousers that hung in there, all belonging to shops such as Gucci, Prada, Valentino. There were clothes appropriate for any event, but today you choose comfortably as you pull out a maroon knitted sweater and dark blue jeans. Though appearing to be rather cheap clothes, you knew Zemo would never have spent less than $100 on them.

When Zemo said he would take care of you, he meant it in every aspect. It was a culture shock going from the relatively poor life you lived, surviving off the small amount of money they paid you for being an Avenger to being treated like royalty by Zemo. Not that you were complaining. It was a guilty pleasure of yours enjoying this luxury, a part of you hoping it would never end. If you had told yourself just a few weeks ago, you would have enjoyed living with Zemo you would have laughed in your face but that man had certainly turned on the charm and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest big thankful for him for everything he has done for you.

You finally leave the confines of your room, something you had only been allowed to do a few times until today. You convinced Zemo yesterday that you weren’t concussed from when John had hit you with the shield and that you would be fine getting up and walking around. He was still hesitant but knew he couldn’t keep you confined in your bed forever.

You close your eyes as you inhale the sweet smell of cooking pancakes, making your stomach grumble greedily. Following the scent, you work your way down through the interior design living room into the lavish kitchen where Zemo currently had his back turned to you as he attempted to flip the pancake he had in the frying pan. His purple turtleneck sleeves were pulled up, exposing his forearms as they tensed, trying to get the timing right to flip the pancake. He does so with perfect accuracy, the golden brownness of the pancake soaring up into the air and landing back down in the frying pan, sizzling.

Zemo giggles to himself, celebrating his minor achievement as he waves the frying pan, his body swaying along slightly with it.

“That smells heavenly,”

Zemo whips around at hearing your voice pierce the air. “Ah y/n! Please, take a seat while I make breakfast,”

His eyes follow you as you take a seat down at the table he had prepared for this morning, then focus back on the breakfast at hand. You pour out some orange juice Zemo had left on the table, then your gaze flickers back to him as he finishes cooking. He stacks the pancakes onto two plates and grabs some sugar, maple syrup, and lemons out of the shelves, giving you a choice of toppings.

You scoff as he turns around, seeing on the apron he had tied around himself the words ‘kiss the chef’ on it.

“Really?” you ask, raising the glass to your lips as you watch him glance down to his apron and then back up to you offended.

“You don’t like?”

“It’s embarrassing to look at!” you exclaim as he places the plates down on the table and sits down opposite you.

Zemo’s eyebrows twitch as he scoffs back at you, “I think it suits me, plus a kiss is expected after I worked so hard on breakfast” he says, tapping his cheek with his finger.

You raise an eyebrow, letting a breath out as you laugh, “Yeah, in your dreams,”

You two settle into a comfortable silence as you readily eat the breakfast he made. The pancakes were soft but delicious, sickeningly sweet but you have always had a sweet tooth and so it seems, does Zemo.

“I thought you would have one of your staff make breakfast, you never struck me as the person to do something yourself when you can make others do it,” you say breaking the silence as you finish the last of your pancakes.

Zemo glances up to you, tilting his head, “Why do you think that? Because I grew up rich?”

You nod, not attempting to make yourself sound nicer, “Yes. It’s common knowledge the rich are always spoilt”

His lips twitch up into a smile at your bluntness. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs as he addresses you.

“You’re right. Even though Sokovia was a rather small country, I grew up with more riches than most people could dream of. But at least I acknowledge my privilege. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

���Depending on what you use your privilege for. Blowing up the UN isn’t exactly putting it to good use now stop avoiding my original question,”

Zemo bites the inside of his mouth as you see through his attempts at trying to dodge the question. His admiration for you however outweighed any annoyance he might have felt at being called out for it. Leaning forward again to rest his arms on the table he says,

“It’s only me, you and my Butler who occasionally comes in. After I was arrested, there was no work for my staff so they all left and I can’t exactly hire anyone else,”

You nod, satisfied, then dab the napkin that Zemo has set out beside you, on your lips to get rid of any leftover sugar. You place your hands on the table and push yourself up from it.

“Well, thank you for breakfast, and thank you for looking after me this last week… that was nice of you, but I better be going. Do you know where my phone is?”

Zemo’s eyes furrow and he immediately stands up as you walk away from the table. He rushes past you, stepping in front of you to stop you from walking.

“You can’t leave y/n,”

Your head jilts back in confusion, “Why not?”

“We ruined Karli’s plans, so she is trying to find us. That’s why Sam and James are out hiding and why we must remain here,”

“I can handle Karli,” you tell Zemo, trying to step past him, but his hand reaches out and grasps your arm firmly.

“Not a super-soldier y/n. It’s too dangerous, especially after your recovery. James and Sam will reach out to me once it is clear to leave, but for now, we stay.”

You huff in frustration, shaking Zemo’s hand off your arm as you cross them. “Well, at least get me a phone so I can keep in contact with them too,”

“I’m afraid I can’t get you a phone currently, but you are welcomed to use mine. Alas, James and Sam have my number but I don’t have theirs’s so unless you remember their numbers we have to wait till they message first to reach out to them,”

You let out a melodramatic sigh, rolling your head looking to the side of the room then back to Zemo.

“So what the hell am I to do to keep occupied?”

Zemo tilts his head, his eyes flicker to the side in thought as he opens his mouth wordlessly and his eyes move back to yours, his eyebrows raising as he frowns thinking over the idea that has just entered his head.

-

With his fingers, Zemo, gazing at you eagerly, beckoned you down the corridor, towards a giant door that was at the end.

“I’m not a dog Zemo” you complain as you follow him

“Have you ever heard of dramatic effect?”

Zemo had taken off his apron and replaced it with that coat he loved to wear so much. You firmly believed it gave him a power complex. He strutted to the end of the hallway and placed his hands on the door. His face turns to you smirking, enjoying this dramatic pause as you roll your eyes at him. He pushes the door open and stands to the side, sweeping his arm across the space to let you in.

You walk past him and your eyes widen in amazement as you walk into the most magnificent library you had ever seen. The room itself stretched out almost further than you could see, seeming to go on and on. The shelves looked like they reached up to the sky, each one stacked with thousands of beautiful hardback books. The design of it looked like you had just stepped into heaven, with white and gold being the main colour scheme. On the ceiling was a painted sky with the gods on, looking down at you. On the pillars separating the shelves were little cherubs, their bows positioned to pierce your heart. Everything about this library was beautiful. It felt like a library that should belong to a museum not kept in this private mansion.

“You see why the dramatic effect was necessary?” Zemo says stepping up beside you, looking out at the shelves before you.

“Zemo this is… this is beautiful,”

His eyes flicker to you then back to the library, a smile appearing on his lips, “Yes, I suppose it is. When I was younger, I had always taken things like this for granted, but after my time in prison I believe it’s made me more humble,”

You walk over to the nearest bookshelf, letting your fingers brush over the colourful hardbacks. You pull one book out, stroking the golden platted side. “You must have every practically every book in existence here”

“I have more books than I could ever get round to reading. You can find anything you want to read here,”

After ten minutes you had gathered a rather sizable book pile you were determined to read, full of fictional and non-fictional books, some of your favorites and some you had never read before.

Zemo chuckled as you tried to hold all of them in your grasp. As you picked one up, the book on the very top of your pile slipped and fell to the floor. Panic surged in you, worried you would damage something so expensive, but Zemo’s hand appears and catches it before it could hit the ground.

Straightening up, he gave you an amused smile, “Maybe you should let me help carry them”

Accepting his help, he takes half the book pile off you and guides you over to a place deep in the library where you two could read. There were two light green armchairs facing each other, with a fireplace just behind them. To the side of the chairs were small tables which contained bookmarks, a goblet, and an ashtray, and to the side of one chair was a globe which could be opened, and inside it held a decanter full of whiskey.

Zemo places the books in his arms on the table then walks over to one shelf, browsing till he finally finds the book he was looking for. He returns to find you getting comfortable in your chair, opening the first book.

“Whisky?” he asks, opening up the globe beside him.

A few days ago you would have said ‘no, no way,’ but today you smile and nod your head, reaching out with the glass beside you to gracefully accept the drink.

-

The next couple of days were spent similarly with you and Zemo spending much of your time reading in the library together. Occasionally you two would even read to each other as he had first done with you when you had woken up here. Though you would never admit it to him, his smokey voice made you very comfortable. If he tried, he could lull you to sleep with that accent of his.

You couldn’t help but try to separate the Zemo you know now as the one you used to hate. Yes, he had torn apart your family, but he had all the reason for what happened to Sokovia, what happened to his family. Plus, this Zemo seemed to try hard to make it up to you. Almost too hard. He was trying everything to keep you entertained while you were stuck here, make your life as comfortable as he could. It was nice.

You strolled into the kitchen hearing the quiet buzz of the radio playing the latest top hits and the sound of someone humming along to the music. In there you find Zemo by the counter, fixated on the bowl he held in his arm and the spoon in his hand as he delicately tries to put the mixture into the cupcake trays before him. You had offered to make food, feeling like he always did too much for you but every day he insisted he would, even on days where it Butler would come around.

“Need help?” you ask, walking over to stand beside him.

He glances at you, then back to the tray he has laid out before him. “I’ve got a handle on this,” he replies just as he spills some mixtures onto the counter, making him swear under his breath.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you say, looking down at the spilled mixture. You turn to face him, letting out a chuff as you place a hand on his arm, “Zemo stop being so prideful and let me help”

As soon as your hand comes in contact with his arm, he freezes. He glances down at the ground, swallowing then his eyes flicker to yours and he smiles gently, his usual arrogance disappearing. “Okay,”

You grab a spoon from the draw and help Zemo scrap off what he puts into his spoon into the cake tray with accuracy. You two stand together, your shoulders brushing up against each other till you finish and put it into the oven.

“We have 30 minutes until we need to get them out. Why don’t you read for a bit while I clean up,”

“I can help clean up,” You tell him already going over to the sink to turn the water on, “You’re not my servant Zemo,”

“Helmut” he suddenly says

You turn back to look at him, confused at the seriousness of his face, “Please y/n, call me Helmut,”

Your mouth moves wordlessly for a moment, then you say, “Helmut,” trying the name out on your tongue. You were so used to calling him Zemo, you had forgotten that that wasn’t his first name.

“Thank you” he whispers, glancing away from you bashfully.

He takes a towel off the side of the rail and dries up everything you washed as you two settled into a peculiar silence.

Attempting to liven the atmosphere again, you put a cup just at the right angle of the running tap that the water splashed into Zemo’s coat. He steps back shocked, glancing down at his coat then back to you. He lets out a laugh, his mouth open in surprise that you would do that. “Oh, if that is how it is”

Zemo quickly grabs a mug, running it under the following water. Realizing what he was going to do you let out a squeal and rush for the door but you don’t get far enough till you feel the water hit your back, soaking your t-shirt.

“Helmut!” you gasp as he chuckles at you. You run forward to grab the nearest thing in front of you to chuck it at him, a piece of bread in this case but he ducks as it flies over him. He fills the cup up again and runs towards you but you get to the table and hide on the other side till you were both poised opposite each other waiting for one of you to make the first move.

“This isn’t fair!” you whine, feeling the coldness of your t-shirt cling to your back. “Who said anything about fairness!” Zemo shouted back, grinning at you.

Eventually, you two called a truce when the oven chimes letting you two know the cupcakes were finished baking. After that day, Zemo always asked if you wanted to help him make meals.

-

“Is the popcorn ready?” you shout as you jump up from the floor where you were placing the DVD into the DVD player.

“Almost done” Zemo calls out.

While waiting, you settle yourself down on the middle of the red sofa, twisting your back to get that perfect spot as you stared up at the giant screen in front of you.

Zemo emerges from the kitchen holding the popcorn and places the bowl onto the table in front of you. He settles down beside you, instantly positioning his arms on the top of the sofa, resting behind your head.

He leans forward to pick up some of the popcorn, tossing it in his mouth as he asks you what you have chosen to watch tonight.

“Beauty and the Beast,” you say excitingly and Zemo coughs, leaning forward as he accidentally inhaled the popcorn in his mouth.

He wipes the tear from his eye as he leans back and you give him a confused look, “Do you not like the film?”

“No-no, it’s not that. W-why do you want to watch the film?”

“It’s my favorite Disney film,”

He nods his head slightly looking down at the popcorn, “I see…” he then glances back to you, looking you in the eyes, “Why is it your favorite Disney film?”

You lean back sighing as you think the movie over, “Well, I’ve loved it since I was a kid. I always wanted to be like Bell and I found the beast so sweet and gentle”

“Even though he imprisoned her?”

“He let her go in the end, and she came back to him”

Zemo opened his mouth wanting to say more, but you sushed him as the movie started, wanting to concentrate only on it.

Zemo turned down the lights to make the experience feel as cinematic as he could of you. Grabbing the bowel he offered you some of the popcorn and you smiled at him in thanks. He tried to enjoy the movie, but his eyes kept wandering back to you, watching your expressions as you watched the movie. His heart skipped a beat every time you laughed at it when that gorgeous smile would grace your face, even in the sad moments where it looked like you were about to cry. He loved seeing how you reacted to everything. There were so many things he had taken for granted, and it felt like he was discovering them all over again with you. It fascinated him to find out the beauty and the beast was your favorite film. It was almost ironic given your current situation, one of which you remained painfully unaware of. He knew he couldn’t keep you in the dark forever. Sam and James were bound to discover where you two were eventually, which is why he wanted to enjoy every moment he had with you to the fullest before it was over.

As the movie went on, Zemo could feel your body moving closer and closer to him. The heat that radiated from your body made him want to wrap his arms around you, but he didn’t know if that would go too far. Roughly by the end of the movie, your head rested against his chest, moving slightly up and down as he breathed. He could tell by your shallow breathing you had entered the realm of dreams.

Looking down at you, he couldn’t help but admire how peaceful you looked. When on the mission with Sam and James you had always appeared tense, prepared to fight your way out of a situation as soon as possible, but at this moment you were relaxed and it made his heart flutter. He could look at you forever like this and never tire of it.

He had found himself in the past comparing you to his wife. He felt conflicted feeling this way about another woman, but how he felt about you differed from how he felt about his wife. It was new, exciting, addicting. Slowly raising his hand, he brushes a piece of hair that had fallen over your face while you slept. Your skin was smooth against his fingers and so soft. His fingers lingered on your skin before finally, he let his arm rest around your body, holding you close as you slept against his chest.

-

Your arms were raised, feeling the walls on either side of you as you tried to figure out if you were going and if you were about to bump into anything while Zemo’s hands were clasped around your eyes tightly.

“Don’t you trust me y/n” he whispers in your year, snickering.

“Do you want a pleasant lie or the harsh truth?” you ask, turning your head slightly but Zemo tuts and moves your head back with his hands

“Not long now, just a few more steps,”

“Till what!” you whine

“Be patient y/n!”

Zemo lifts one hand of your eyes telling you to keep them close and you hear the creak of a door open ahead of you. His hand returns to your face and with slightly pushing his body against yours, he urges you forward into this new room.

“Can I finally look now?”

Zemo removes his hands and steps back from you, “Okay y/n, open your eyes”

Opening them you gasped in shock seeing what was before you. On a stand was a replica of Belle’s dress in Beauty and the Beast. Its honey yellow colour shone out, the top of it tightly clung to the mannequin it was on while the bottom poofed out, it hung with no shoulder straps and came with yellow gloves. Everything about it was perfect.

“Helmut I- I’m, stunned,”

“You like it?” he asks anxiously

You turn to him grinning, “Of course I do!”

You hug him tightly, ecstatic, then rushed over to the dress, brushing your fingers along it. “It’s beautiful” you whisper.

“I think I got the sizes right,” Zemo says coming up beside you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, “There’s only one way to know for you,” he adds on, turning to you giving you a gentle smile

He helps you take the dress off and chuckles as he watches you rush off with it to get changed, then leaves to get changed himself.

The dress fitted perfectly on you. Everything from the bust down to the waist. Even the gloves fitted perfectly. When you entered the bathroom, you found Zemo had even found some make-up in case you wanted to use any. He thought of everything.

Finally looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You truly felt like a Disney princess. Slowly you walked back down the stairs and enter the room Zemo had to lead you in, to begin with. As you walked in, let out a merry laugh as you saw Zemo, dressed up in a blue jacket, embroidered with yellow roses on the sleeves, just like the beast. He was standing by a record player, putting a disk in as you walked in. He turns to look at you, his mouth opening in wonder.

“Y/n… you look glorious,”

His sincere comment makes your cheeks heat up and you hold your arms out to him, squeezing your hands letting him know you want to hold his hands.

He turns the record on and your favorite song from Beauty and the Beast floats out, making your cells light up with excitement.

“Helmut” you start to say as he walks over to you, holding his hand out, “Why are you doing this?”

He gently takes your gloved hand, bending over to kiss it. “I know it isn’t easy being stuck in here all the time and you said you loved ‘Beauty and the Beast’ so I thought it would make a pleasant treat,”

His arms hesitantly touch your waist as he looks into your eyes as if asking it was okay. You nod and step closer to him, taking his hand in yours holding it up. Getting into the waltz position you two start to move along the dance floor, swaying to the music.

You two slide along the ballroom floor, picking up speed. As you look up to him, he breathes out smiling back down at you happily. His hand on his waist spins your around as your dress flutters out. You squeal in delight as you grasp back onto his hand as you felt dizzy.

You two turn around the floor looking each other deep in the eyes. You could feel his breath on your face as you two were barely inches apart from each other. Zemo pulls you in even closer as your arm goes around his neck, your body pulled into his. He dips you as you cling to him tightly for dear life as the music fades.

He holds you into that position, panting as he looks at you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. You could feel that pull towards him, your eyes starting to flutter shut. He leans towards you but suddenly you feel your fingers slip and you almost let go of him. His other hand quickly wraps around making sure you don’t fall to the floor.

He helps you back on your feet and you two steps apart. You look away feeling your cheeks burn up again.

“Helmut, thank you. Thank you so much” you tell him earnestly

He looks deep into your eyes, smiling in bliss, “Anything for you y/n”

-

“Y/n, are you awake?”

You groan as you hear Zemo whisper beside you, waking you from your sleep.

“Ugh, Helmut what time is it,” you moan turning over with your eyes are closed.

“It’s 8, time to wake up”

“Nooooo” you whine screwing up your eyelids.

You hear him chuckle and then you feel something push against your lips. You open your eyes confused to see Zemo beside you, holding a strawberry to your lips.

You smile and take a bite out of it, moaning in delight as you taste its sweetness as you sit up. He sits up beside you and holds out some melted chocolate for you to dip the strawberry in.

“Helmut, you spoil me”

“Not enough,” he whispers back as he puts the chocolate-covered strawberry to your lips letting you take another bite.

“I’m not even surprised anymore to see you in my bed when I wake up,” you tell him

“Technically this is my bed”

“You know what I mean!”

He chuckles as he pushes his head back into the headboard, “I thought it would be a nice way for you to wake up,”

“Consider me impressed,” you tell him, looking over at him smiling. He glances back to you, his lips twitching up. You lean into his side, not caring at the moment you were in a simple nightdress. You close your eyes inhaling his cologne and picking up a strawberry to feed to him.

“I could get used to this,” you whisper to him

-

You scan the piano music book before looking back down to the notes before you. It had been a while since you had last played so you thought you might as well pick it up while you were stuck in Zemo’s mansion.

You press the notes but every time you tried to play one of the chords you always missed one. You were trying to play your favorite song 'Comptine d'un autre été' but to no avail.

“You need to flow with the music and not worry about hitting the right notes”

You turn around and smile as you see Zemo approach you from behind. “Isn’t the whole point of music to play the right notes?” you say sarcastically

Zemo lets out a huff chuckling, “Well yes but you’ll hit the notes when you stop trying so hard. Now try again”

You turn back around and attempt the music again but hit the wrong notes making you slam the piano in annoyance.

“Don’t damage the piano”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I should give up,”

“No don’t do that” Zemo says, brushing his fingers over your waist, “Here let me help you”

He puts his hands on top of yours guiding them, “Let’s try again,”

You look to the music then back down to your hands which had Zemo’s resting on and attempt to start playing again. His hands moved in time with yours as they guided along with the piano, pressing down on your fingers when you needed to. You got every note. Well, Zemo got every note.

“See, easy,” he says as he pulls back from you. “Now try again”

You attempt to play again but feeling his eyes stare into your back you couldn’t concentrate and messed up the notes again.

“We just went through this!”

“It’s hard to concentrate with you staring at me!” you exclaim turning around to him. Your eyes widen as what you just said as he tilts his head, a smug smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh, I make it hard for you to concentrate do I?”

You groan at his cockiness, looking away from him so he doesn’t see your glistening red cheeks.

He walks up behind you again, his fingers grazing your jawline, stopping at your chin as he raises your head to look up at him. Seeing him look down at you made a knot in your stomach tighten.

“You are awfully red y/n”

“Shut up”

He chuckles and leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I like it when you blush”

The breath gets caught in your lungs as you feel his lips on your forehead, their softness cooling your burning skin.

For the first time in your life, you were rendered speechless, by Helmut Zemo no less.

His teeth flash in his smile as he looks down at you, “Come let’s practice this again” he says, leaning over as his back pressed into yours, putting his hands back on top of yours.

-

“Zemo do you mind if I borrow your phone briefly to see if that new video has been released?” you call out picking up Zemo’s phone that he had left on your seat.

“Go ahead! Just don’t check anything else on there” he yells back

“Worried I will find your nudes?” you call out as you unlock the phone. Pressing onto the youtube app you sigh in annoyance seeing no new video and so you were about to put the phone back down when a message appeared from a contact simply labeled ‘S’

It read, ‘S: Look just tell us where you have taken her. Whatever you are doing with her it isn’t worth it”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at what the hell could that message mean. You click onto the message stream just to see a ton of messages from this ‘S’ contact but with no reply from Zemo.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing Zemo wouldn’t want you to do what you were about to do, but your curiosity got the best of you and you pressed the call button.

It rang for a few seconds and then the line picked up.

“Zemo” Sam’s voice rang out through the phone

“Sam?” you ask back

“W-what, YN/!? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Woah Woah Sam, calm down, I’m fine! I’m with Helmut-Sam what is going on?”

“What has he done to you?”

“What do you mean he's done nothing, Sam I thought me and Helmut were hiding out here till Karli was done with her plan?”

You hear a sigh down the phone and then the muffled voices of what you could make out as Bucky and Sharon down the line.

Sam picked the phone back up and spoke directly, “Y/n you need to get out of there now. Zemo, he's kidnapped you”

The phone slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a loud crash.

Tag list: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @loonylunalovegood77 @lieutenantn @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @arianalilyblack @mandowhatnow @scullys-alienpussy @felicityofbakerstreet @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s

[dancing-in-a-yellow-dress]

Trapped Little Angel (part 1)

Welcome to the first part of the first fanfic on this account.

Child!reader x the Avengers

Word count: 2900

Trigger warning: Imprisonment, nightmares, non graphic descriptions of violence and injuries, possible trigger for eating disorders

--

You were a 14-year-old orphan living alone in New York, since your family had died in the explosion that gave you your powers. Your powers were similar to Wanda’s (telekinesis and all that jazz). You got them when you were 7, but for whatever reason they hadn’t been active before that day.

It was a basic September day with all of its rain and fog and clouds. You were walking on the street when suddenly you blacked out and your powers exploded out of you destroying property and hurting people everywhere around you. The Avengers were called to action and they evacuated the block and when you’d cooled off a little they took you into custody and to the Avengers tower.

You had passed out and they didn`t really know what to do with you, so they laid you down on the couch and began a debate about the subject.

Tony believed firmly that you were dangerous to the team and the best thing for everyone would be to lock you up isolated and unstimulated to avoid new outbursts until a better option would be available. Steve backed Tony up to an extent, although he did believe the isolation to be unnecessary. Bruce didn’t really voice his opinion on confinement that much, instead focusing on the medical aspect of the situation.

Clint doesn’t really say much during the argument, before Tony raises the possibility of indefinite imprisonment in isolation. That is what finally gets to him, since you are just a kid and remind him of his own daughter. Wanda argues firmly against any form of forced imprisonment. In her opinion you needed medical attention, after which instead of locking you up the team should be focused on helping you control and develop your powers in a beneficial way.

Natasha is uncharacteristically quiet for the whole debate. Something about you had got to her and she found it hard to think of the situation objectively without a massive bias. Peter was on ‘your side’ for sure. To him you were a troubled kid who just happened to need some help. In a way he saw himself in you.

You start to regain consciousness about halfway through the argument. The Avengers are taken back at first, but when you are very confused and scared, Nat and Clint (who are the most ‘neutral’ participants) tell you what happened. When you have gotten the big picture you ask shakily: “How many people did I hurt? What’s the damage?” The others are hesitant to tell you, but Tony is highly pissed at you, so he takes his tablet and shows you some pics of the place where the accident happened. Wanda shoots him a death glare, but he continues and reads the statistics to you: “At this exact moment there are 9 people dead, 27 in critical condition and 56 with milder injuries. All because of your little stunt.” At this point you have pulled your knees to your chest and are struggling to breathe. Steve and Clint look at Tony like he has lost his mind and Nat tries to calm you down. You are repeating the same things over and over again: “I didn’t mean to- It’s all my fault… I don’t know how- What- I didn’t mean to…” Nat was approaching you, her hand reached out ready to stroke your back and pull you into a hug. She says: “We know. Everything will be alright, it’ll be alright. It wasn’t your fault, we’ll sort this out. It’s okay, you’re okay. We don’t blame you, but right now you need to calm down.” You flinch away from her, panic shining in your eyes: “No! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t control it… I don’t understand- I didn’t mean to…” Suddenly you look desperately at Tony “You have to lock me up. I’m dangerous. I can’t be trusted. I have to be put away. Please”, you beg, surprising all of the other people in the room. Peter is about to say something, but Tony cuts him off.

You stand up and Clint shows you the way to a quite big cell. You step in and he shuts the door behind you. You sit on the floor in the corner and pull your knees to your chest. You just blankly stare at the wall. You noticed that there was a camera in corner of the room near the roof as you stepped inside, but you didn’t care. What did it matter. As you stayed on the floor the team was reheating the discussion whilst keeping an eye on the monitor that showed footage from your cell.

Wanda and Peter were shouting at Tony for locking you up in an isolation cell. Natasha and Clint were a bit calmer, but they were backing Wanda and Peter up. At some point Tony says: “You heard the kid. She wanted to be locked up. Even she thought it would be the best option”. And that sets Natasha off: “Yeah, after you had scared the poor thing on the verge of a panic attack. That wasn’t fair play. You drove her to that decision and you know it.” Then Peter fires: “Besides the whole ‘she decided herself’ excuse is bullshit. She’s a kid. SHE’S 14. I’m 17 and you don’t trust me to do anything yet, so how again is she any different?” That shuts Tony up.

In the end the team comes to the conclusion, that they will be monitoring you strictly and willing people will be allowed to go talk to you. All except Peter (just for the first few days) who is infuriated to no end by the decision.

The first person to come talk to you is Wanda. She comes and talks for a while, but you can’t make any sense of what she’s saying. After a while she leaves shutting the door behind her. Steve also comes to question you, and even though this time you understand what he is saying you can’t find the energy to answer him in you. Clint brings you something to eat and drink, but you don’t move a muscle to acknowledge the act. Time sort of looses its meaning to you as you sit on the floor and stare into nothing, alone with your thoughts, the same thoughts over and over and over again.

Nevertheless, you know some time has passed when Natasha comes through the door with another tray filled with food. She places it carefully on her untouched bed and sighs deeply before speaking: “You should really start eating on your own. It’s been two whole days and you haven’t taken a bite. I get that its hard, but you’ve got to try. Otherwise we’ll have no choice but to put a feeding tube down your throat and trust me kid, that does not feel good.” She gives you another look, then turns around and walks out. Slowly you straighten your legs on the floor.

You hadn’t really noticed how much your muscles were hurting for being in the same position for so long before someone pointed it out. You stretched your legs first and then stood up slowly. You went through your body, stretching every muscle one at a time and then sat down beside the bed to eat. You weren’t really hungry, but the threat of getting a feeding tube stuffed down your throat was enough to get you eating.

After you were done with the meal you went back to your corner and sat back down, leaving your legs laying on the floor instead of curling up to a tight bundle. After a few minutes there was a knock at the door and Wanda walked in. She picked the tray up and looked down at you, clearly assessing the situation before finally saying: ”Hey, I was wondering if you needed to use the bathroom.” You didn’t answer her but stood up and stepped timidly few steps forward so that she knew you’d be coming along. She guided you through the hallways and into a bathroom. “There is a towel on the counter and shampoo on a shelf in the shower. Take as long as you need. I’ll pick up some clean clothes for you and bring them here. Okay?” You didn’t say a word but nodded and opened the door to the bathroom. After half an hour you were back in your cell but feeling significantly cleaner and comfier.

Instead of sitting back in the corner on the floor you sat on your bed and crossed your legs. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it, so you started singing, first just humming quietly, then adding the words to the song. It was an old lullaby your mom had sang to you more than once. Some things just had a way of sticking with you.

`Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt kuuluu keijujen äänet

Ne tanssivat taas koko yön laulaen

koko yön laulaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

taas syttyy tähtöset pienet

Ne oottavat taas läpi yön loistaen

läpi yön loistaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt sammuu keijujen äänet

Ne liitävät taas ylös luo tähtien

ylös luo tähtien`

Then you sang it over again, this time in English

If your quiet, very quiet,

you can hear sound of the fairies

They’re dancing again through the night until day

through the night until day

Very quiet, almost silent

the stars are lighting the sky

they’re waiting again till the night fades away

till the night fades away

If you’re quiet, very quiet

you can hear sound the fairies

they race through the sky so they’ll be near the stars

so they’ll be near the stars

You sang the song a couple times over and finally you got to the last part you had made up on your own. You always ended it there, since you could never continue singing after that.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

ei kuulu keijujen äänet

Ne lähtivät taas minut yksin jättäen

minut yksin jättäen

Even if you’re very quiet

you won’t hear sound of the fairies

they flew up the sky leaving me alone behind

leaving me alone behind.

You broke down sobbing. Clint was sitting at the monitor, and he thought it’d be best not to disturb you, so you were left alone as you start humming another melody your mom taught you.

Joka ilta kun lamppu sammuu ja saapuu oikea yö Niin Nukku-Matti nousee ja ovehen hiljaa lyö On sillä uniset tossut ja niillä se sipsuttaa Se hiipii ovesta sisään ja hyppää kaapin taa

”I didn’t know she was finnish” Nastasha said to clint as she sat next to him with two cups of tea. “Finnish?” Clint asked as they listened to the beautiful melody coming from the lonely cell. Nat was quiet for a while before saying “Yeah. The language is absolutely bizarre.” They sat in silence for another while, until Clint said: “She sounds miserable” “Yeah, but who wouldn’t. I’m guessing she has no family, since no one has come asking for her.”

Ja pieni sateenvarjo on aivan kallellaan Ja sinistä unien kirjaa se kantaa kainalossaan Ja unien sinimaahan se lapset autolla vie Surrur, surrur ja sinne on sininen, uninen tie

Ja siellä on kultainen metsä, ja metsässä kultainen puu Ja unien sinilintu ja linnulla kultainen suu Ja se unien sinilintu se lapsia tuudittaa Se laulaa unisen laulun joka mielen uneen saa

Your mum never taught you that song in English. You had tried translating it, but it always turned out so peculiar you had eventually given up.

When you felt like you had cried enough you stopped with the finnish and started going through songs you had heard somewhere else, altering the lyrics as you went.

You hadn’t sung anything in weeks and now you just couldn’t stop. It felt good. You went over your favorites altering lyrics and making up new verses, not wanting the song to end. As you sang you thought about mum and home. In the outside world they were forbidden things, because they made it hard to focus on surviving. But here she had all the time in the world to think. After hours and hours she finally laid down on the mattress and drifted to sleep

Tony had just started his shift watching you through the monitor and you were having a nightmare. You were curled up in a ball and whimpered and muttered quietly, as tears ran down your face. You dug your nails into your back and started scratching leaving bloody red marks behind. Then you started screaming. The sound echoed through the halls, but Tony didn’t know what to do, so he ended up doing nothing, just staring at the screen paralyzed. It went on for a while, until you finally flinched so violently you woke up.

You were in a state of panic, but as you realized where you were it started to wear off. Little by little you started to feel the pain from the bloody scratch marks on your back and arms. You examined your injuries to the best of your abilities and then looked at the floor while talking sheepishly at the camera in the corner of the room: “If you don’t mind I’d like to have something to wrap these cuts with. I might also need some help with the ones in my back. Its not a big deal, but I don’t want them to get infected.”

The screaming had woken up Natasha and Steve who were now standing behind Tony, looking at the screen over his shoulders. Tony cleared his throat before turning around in his chair and facing the other two. They both had their arms crossed on their chest. Steve looked surprised as hell, but Natasha was quick to recover. She threw Tony an icy stare before saying: “Should we think the imprisonment over again, or is she still too dangerous for you to handle?” Tony raised his hands before saying: “Let’s think that over in the morning, when the whole team is up. Now, would you mind going to help her with the injuries?” Natasha threw Tony another dirty look, before grabbing the first aid kit and heading to your cell.

Nat came, and you laid on the bed on your stomach. She lifted your shirt, poured antiseptic solution on a cloth and warned you: “I’m sorry, but this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” She pressed the cloth gently on your back and you shrug. “It’s not that bad. You get used to pain as a homeless kid. Once I had to remove a bullet from my own shoulder.” There Nat saw an opportunity get little bit more information of you and continued the conversation: “Must be tough. I suppose you don’t have any family left?” “Yeah, mum and dad and Tom died… in an accident” you tensed up visibly. Nat continued unbothered but didn’t bring up the deaths again. “I heard you sing the other day. Didn’t know you were finnish.” “Oh, I’m not. My mom was.” “So, can you speak finnish or what?” “Nah, not anymore anyways. I used to, but I haven’t used it in a long time. Some things just stuck with me, like the songs, or silly pet names mum used to call us.” For some reason you felt really safe with Natasha. Her touch reminded you of home as she worked to clean your wounds and then wrap them with clean gauze. You knew it was silly, but it just felt so good to finally talk to someone, so you kept answering her as she continued asking questions. “Pet names, huh. What did she call you?” “She used to call me Lumikki. It’s the finnish for snow white. It’s cheesy as hell, I know but we lived in a little cottage in the woods, and I was obsessed with Disney.” Natasha smiled at you. “Do you remember anything else about your mum.” “She had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. She sounded like an angel. Sometimes I hear her in the wind.” You pause for a minute “And she was a dancer. She used to be a ballerina, but then she had us and her career ended. She never quit dancing though. Once in a while she’d put on her slippers and go through some old routine, like she had never stopped. She even taught me some basics.” Natasha was quiet for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and continued: “Did you have any siblings?” “Yeah”, you were quiet for a moment, not rushing to continue “One brother. His name was Tuomas, but we all called him Tom. Three years older than me. He was my best friend.” A tear fell down your cheek. Natasha was almost done with wrapping your back so she asked one more question. “How about your dad” You shrugged. “He was a hunter. Spent most of his time with Tom out in the forest when I stayed in with mum.” Nat packed the medical supplies back to the first aid kit and pulled your shirt down so that it covered your back. Then she helped you sit up and said: “I can’t promise anything yet, but we’re having another meeting with the team about your… condition and I believe you might get out of here.” She saw the unsure look you gave her. “Don’t worry” she said as she took your hand “Everything will be alright. I promise”

--

Sorry, I have absolutely no idea what is going on with the spacing, tried to fix it but it wont budge... Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!

[jiminrings]

bestie what if jungkook finally finds out that jin’s friends with y/n 😭😭😭 he’d live in embarrassment for like eight business days

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook wants to crawl in a ditch for bADLY misjudging a situation he should’ve foreseen in the first place

yoongi has never been this dedicated to curing his hangover

well actually, nO ONE was really forcing him to pick you and taehyung up anyway

you didn't even ask!!! you could 10/10 just call for an uber to bring back taehyung to his place

maybe, just maybe, it's your fault that when yoongi asked you where you were when he's just woken up from a long night of partying, you mentioned "i'm with taehyung" and hospital and go home in the same sentence so that's why he went to overdrive

did he process what you said correctly?? probably not <3

that's the whole reason why yoongi had wasted sIX eggs this morning!!

he read somewhere in passing and watched song-hwa from hospital playlist enough to know that drinking eggs apparently helps you with your hangover and some other things

first, he wasted tHREE eggs because apparently, you're not supposed to drink the eggs !!! whisked !!! because it "defeats" the whole purpose

but it's still an egg whether you whisk it and no one's sane enough to drink raw eggs unprovoked

yoongi nailed it on the second try and he might have gagged a few times but the important thing is, his hangover is all-cured from the stress of digesting raw eggs :D so now he can safely drive at a borderline dangerous speed to pick you and tae up

"hey kiddo."

you peer your head up to see yoongi looking down at you, ruffling your hair in greeting

you've been held up here for less than five hours anyway, and it's not that yOU look tired,,, it's just that maybe you could use a little more sleep

lol you got yoongi thinking for a second that you're the injured on

"hey champ," yoongi acknowledges taehyung who's smiling from his bed, getting a forehead flick from his senior to which he rolls his eyes to

taehyung's... dressed up already in his normal clothes?

he already has his shoe on too so yoongi doesn't quite get why the two of you still aren't standing up

"you're lucky you just got a flick," you add helpfully, yawning in remembrance, "he punched my arm when i fell down the stairs at the dorm."

and wHY is this conversation all pointing to him now??

"because the both of you did stupid things that landed you in the ER!"

"i was just trying to see if i can go down the stairs three steps at a time!!"

"i just wanted to embrace y/n!!!"

very stoopid decisions if you ask him

yoongi shifts his weight from one foot to another, still a little lost because he's already here, and the two of you are all-ready to go, and he's not really a fan of the smell of the hospital —

oh wait

"has the bill already been settled?" he asks in curiosity, fishing out his wallet from his pocket

"mhmm. already did," tae answers instantly, nudging yoongi to put his wallet back where it came from

uhm wait maybe it's the eggs that are talking but uh

..... if the bill's already paid-

"then why are we all just sitting here?"

taehyung opens his mouth but he cLOSES it shut the moment it all clicks in his head, belatedly looking at you whose face screams conflict

yoongi's eyes turn to you on instinct, narrowing his eyes because you're choosing not to meet his eyes

"we're uh, we're waiting for jungkook to come back from the restroom."

...

.....

.......

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yoongi's quiet, almost like he's calculating the variables in his mind

his mind's working harder rn that it did on his finals last week

"so jungkook is here?"

he gets war flashbacks every time he hears his name

he just shudders at the thought of him and he doesn't mean it positively lmao

"y-yeah! did i not tell you that at the call? he helped me get taehyung here," you scratch your nape in explanation, not accounting for the fact that yoongi still vERY much loathes jungkook when you called him

tae's not actually sure if he's helping you when he opens his mouth but he's trying his best <3

"yup! his shoulders were my crutch for like, three blocks. he also bought us food from the cafeteria while we were waiting to have my leg cast!!"

he glances at the fancy paper bags from the cafeteria downstairs, even some take-outs in there that makes it look all-stuffed

how in the living hELL is yoongi suppposed to feel about all of this :|

"i'm back! should i call an uber now? sorry, i bought these tiny hand sanitizers because they were having a sale at the pharmacy. y/n what scent do you-..."

jungkook happily chirps as he rummages through the bag he was given, preparing to scoop all the different scents to present them to you when he jUST had to look down at a familiar pair of shoes

as in the same black converse that he had the relief of looking at when someone was particularly asking him if he ever had a knuckle sandwich

"h-hi yoongi."

yoongi narrows his eyes at the kid who just squeaked, mouth puffed-up in disbelief that he looks like he's hiding a hamster in there

"bye jungkook."

yoongi uses tae as an excuse to shoo jungkook off as fast as possible but that kinda bites him in the ass

taehyung's going through a learning curve with his crutches and yoongi's making him wALK faster!!!! he still needs a little-

oh wait a minute :-)

"jungkook! help me walk to yoongi's car."

no

there is nO way that even taehyung's conspiring against him now

first jin and now taehyung????

tae solidifies his point by winking at yoongi, leaving you alone with him as you carry the paper bags of cafeteria take-outs

he's not exactly sure if he's helping you out at this situation, but once again, he's just trying his best and having fun alright!!! he likes to be included in these types of things hee-hee

yoongi has no choice now but to aLSO drive jungkook home, and the thought just makes him grumble from thinking about it

he'll have to disinfect his seats ://

"i haven't fully forgiven him if that's what you're thinking about," you chime in with his thoughts, looping your arm around his to help quell the visible stress in his mind

"it's your life," he puffs out because he doesn't want to meddle with you, consciously trying not to be overbearing when it comes to your choices

"i know. i just want you to know that your closest friend has the pride and the brains to not forgive an asshole, a goddamn junior, who said really mean things to her," you add thoughtfully and transparently, making yoongi break into a smile

ok that's got the heaviness in his chest a little lighter

"we should probably talk to each other one of these days."

you haven't had a heart-to-heart talk with yoongi for quite some time now because there weren't really any pressing issues of the sort to make the two of you talk face-to-face, but now it's probably needed

"we should."

:D

jungkook has never feared for his life in a car ride tHIS much before

and he's even wearing his seatbelt!!!!

you're sitting at the front seat and he's with taehyung at the back, the latter dozing off because yoongi indulged his request for sleep music with soft rain on the background (it doesn't make yoongi sleepy) in an attempt to make him feel better about his leg

the one-hour loop's working wonders because you're passed out on the front seat too

normally, this would also make jungkook sleepy

but how the fuck can he sLEEP when yoongi looks at him through the rear-view mirror like an apex predator??????

kook could take the easier route of pretending to sleep so he could get to avoid yoongi's gaze

but then if he pretends to sleep, yoongi would clearly see how his eyeballs are still very much trembling even when his eyes are shut and he's the furthest thing from being relaxed

don't get him started on stoplights too!!! that was just pure torture because jungkook was conflicted to whether or not he should look at him rIGHT back

taehyung and jungkook live in the same building anyway so that's more convenient because he actually wouldn't know how to act if he had to drop j-name (he honestly can't digest saying his name) separately

now that that's all over, jungkook feels oddly fulfilled in a way...?

fulfilled in a sense that even if partially, he managed to earn your forgiveness

he feels like he could sleep a little more peacefully knowing that he atleast did something right this time!!!

which is for the exact reason, he's gonna gUSH about this to mr. kim from student affairs!!!

it's uh the weekend and he walked to campus because he thinks that admin works even on weekends (mad respect)

it's noticeably a lot more empty compared to weekdays and it's just filled with freshmen with their hectic class schedules and some students who are just fulfilling units to graduate early

jungkook walks straight to student affairs and it instantly looks empty, the only familiar face in there being namjoon

as in mr. kim namjoon who's wearing a windbreaker rn and whose hair is dEFINITELY blonde than the last time (two days ago) that jungkook saw him

he's not here to work isn't he

wait is he here to rob the place ???!?#?!?

"and what are you doing here?"

namjoon is as confused as jungkook, his mouth opening and closing in dumbfoundedness

"o-oh! is mr. kim here? w-wait, you are here. i mean mr. kim seokjin, sorry. did he-"

"nope," namjoon shakes his head, putting his bucket hat back on to leave jungkook all by himself

namjoon from work and namjoon every other time besides work are TWO different entities

"we just came here to collect our paychecks. you missed jin by ten minutes."

oh well

his momentum's not entirely ruined!! jungkook just has to cram thinking of a recipe to put in your lunchbox by tomorrow and jin is his tried and tested saving grace

technically, jungkook already saw you this morning because of the whole taehyung in a cast thing, but he feels as if that the take-outs from the cafeteria aren't gonna cut it

he still needs to step up his game of course :D

so that's why jungkook forcibly enlisted jimin's help to make fish and chips for dinner and put them in two lunchboxes

one for you and one for yoongi!! he didn't skimp on the fish nor the chips and made sure they're still toasty and in peak-flavor when he delivers it to your dorm

is he intruding? is this a bad time? he didn't exactly know how to process when yoongi told him that he wouldn't stop him from making it up to you

he just iSN'T sure if delivering homemade lunchboxes at 7 in the evening to your dorm is optimal

oh good!! the door's opening :D

"good evening!! i uhm-"

... what

.......... WHAT

what the fuck is going on

seokjin is suprised to see that the guy at the door isn't from the delivery place he ordered from two minutes ago

... he may be disappointed

but what he is amused about is the way jungkook looks beyond confused and intimidated

jin's in a sleep shirt and some boxers and jungkook doesn't kNOW what to feel about all the variables present that he's trying to connect

"you look like you're hiding a goldfish in your mouth."

seokjin remarks and yawns when a fraction of a minute passes and jungkook's still frozen in his spot, his eyes darting to what the kid's holding

"oh c'mon! one for y/n and one for yoongi? you trying to make it up to him too? and none for me?" jin jives him further, leaning against the doorframe with a sleepy smirk on his lips, "i practically live here, and i gave you the tonkatsu recipe, and i'm the one who doesn't get a lunchbox?"

he eventually saw this coming lmao

jin knew that someway somehow, jungkook would come to know that hE's your close friend throughout the whole time

that he's been the sort of middleman all this time but nah he's on your team of course <3

that all this whining he's done to him has all been in the name of you and seokjin had to sit through ALLLL of that with his fists clenched underneath the table to calm himself down

"oh my god," jungkook's literally WEAK in the knees as it all connects in his mind, the gravity of this scenario kicking down on him

he really iS such a fucking asshole

how did he not hypothesize this????? how wasn't he able to connect you and yoongi and jin as each other's closest friends???

his legs are literally about to give out so that's why seokjin snatches the lunchboxes from his hands

"i am so, so, so sorry mr. kim. i-i really didn't-..."

jin pays him no mind, opening the lunchboxes slightly as he whistles at the sight of fish and chips

meanwhile jungkook is so sO close to crying both in realization and very very slight relief because he knows atleast one of your friends doesn't hate him that much

the door opens wider, the creaking getting both of his and jin's attention

"what's taking you so long? is the-..."

yoongi switches his gaze between the two lunchboxes on jin's hand and jungkook sitting on the floor looking like he's had the shock of his lifetime

wow this is really amusing

this is in fact so amusing that yoongi can't help but to snap a picture for him and jin to laugh at later

"bye, jeon."

yoongi grabs one of the lunchboxes from jin's hand and goes back into the dorm, leaving jungkook alone with mr. student affairs

seokjin chuckles as he outstretches his hand to make jungkook stand up and shoo him off sooner than later so he wouldn't look like a pebble in front of your dorm

he pats him on the back, only having to pull him slightly to get him closer to his ear

"we're still mad at you kid, don't get it twisted. you're lucky i didn't expel you."

jungkook pales at the realization overall, only weakly nodding his head as he attempts to take in everything while trying to look at the bright side

seokjin cheerily closes the door, waving at him who looks so close to passing out from hock

"bye jungkook!!!"

[punemy-spotted]

The Price You Pay Chapter 3: Counteroffer

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements Continue; Dub-Con; Angst; Politics; Possessive/Manipulative Behavior; Spanking; Choking; Crying; The Dove is Probably Dead: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: The return of an old friend brings back the ghosts of old memories.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Notes: Shorter chapters my ass, these outlines are getting unreal. Andy Barber has arrived, Steve Rogers does not approve, the Reader bears the consequences. Things are going to be angstier from here on out and I can feel it in my bones. Please don’t yell at me — or do, your feedback is well-loved and appreciated even if it’s yelly.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

You met Andy Barber fresh from the ashes of his divorce, escaping the gossip and scandal and pain of his past life only to dive into the gossip and scandal and pain of politics. Senatorial campaign, in need of an aide and a law student desperate to do more for the people than hours in clinics and mock trials. Hungry for something grassroots, angling for the impossible.

A match. Whether made in Heaven or Hell feels irrelevant now, long ago as it was.

It was then. This… is now.

Hey Sunshine, didn’t think you’d be able to make it.

He looks the same. Keeps the same beard. Same hair. It’s uncanny and familiar and safe all at once and you slide into the booth with your purse by your side and feel genuinely smiley for the first time in a long time.

It’s been a while since I heard that name.

Yeah? It’s been a while since I got to use it.

The silence is heavy, unwelcome, unwieldy, a reminder of the space between what was and what is.

How’re you doing? Last I heard you were making a name for yourself taking down the…

He trails off, eyes fixed on the slide of your gaze, the sudden interest in a drink menu you wouldn’t normally touch, the tremor of your lips. A man doesn’t serve as Assistant District Attorney for the many years he has without picking up tells.

Sunshine.

Andy…

It’s a warning, a plea, a… confession, all at once, and all the dogged determination in the world can’t hold against the break in your voice, in your control. You’ve cried more in the past few weeks than you can recall and now here he is, soulful eyes and a worried expression and he’s never hugged you really, but suddenly you might want it just that much more.

Don’t be an idiot.

It’s dangerous, your stress, and you know it.

Dangerous enough to send you into the arms of the next safe thing — this is why you don’t do this, isn’t it, this reaching out bit, but no advocacy group on the planet is going to save you from yourself today.

I saw… I saw you win that case. Pretty brutal, standing up to the Syndicate, and getting what you did. He steamrolls past the way you wince, his thumb on that metaphorical bruise and pressing, the Prosecutor’s dogged determination demanding answers, I have a friend in the office, he was convinced you’d be climbing the ranks.

Every word is a twist of the knife, couched in quiet concern, gentle admonition, a warm hug in a smoky tenor and you want to tell him everything, you want to break down in his arms and tell him every word, every buried piece of you he never learned, everything that’s led you to this.

You don’t.

You know better than to trust him too. No one’s going to take care of you but you so instead you shake your head and wave it off and Decided going into the private sector was the better option — one big win doesn’t really make up for the stress, you know.

Private sector. That’s what you’re calling the SHIELD Syndicate now? C’mon, Sunshine…

Look. It’s the Syndicate’s New York, when he made the offer it was… safer than saying no. It’s a cushy position anyway, and I didn’t want anyth—

He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you and you’re digging a hole trying to explain your way out of it so you just… shut up, shaking your head, It’s not important. I’m fine. I’m more curious about you — what year is it now, your fourth? What are you doing in New York?

The deflection works, but the look on his face is obvious — you’re not getting out of this so easily. He gives in for now, just for now, for you.

Almost fifth, gearing up for re-election. Had a meeting up here… about the organized crime situation for both states, and I remembered you were in the area.

Oh. You… it’s been a while since we talked, you remembered?

You expect me to forget you, Sunshine?

That stops you in your tracks, or whatever road your mind had been racing on, thoroughly not enjoying the defensive you’ve been on since you met with Steve, constantly under watch and waiting for yet one more shoe to fall on you.

That’s fear, sweetness.

Andy…?

You were the best campaign aide I had — I told you then too, I would have made you Chief of Staff if you’d let me.

It’s a good save. A clever save, and you want to believe it more than anything, want to believe it was all business and no pleasure because the alternative makes your nails bite into the table and want to turn tail before he can say another word and he… sees that panic flicker over your face so keenly it’s almost embarrassing.

You’re not used to this.

You’re not used to the warmth of his eyes when he searches your face for the answers you can’t give voice to. You’re not used to the way he reaches for your hand and rests it over your fingers, curling around your palm like he might actually keep you close and keep you safe and keep you free of the demons you made a part of yourself too.

Sunshine, why does his voice have to be so soft, why does it have to sound like molten honey on your senses, why does he have to say your name like it’s the very definition of the word hope, If you’re not safe…

No. No you’re not, tell him tell him the truth, tell him you’re atoning for the girl you could not protect tell him you aren’t worth it tell him this is your penance tell him you signed a death warrant tell him tell him tell him.

Andy, really. I’m fine. It’s a good job.

It’s a shit lie.

He drops it. Drops it just long enough for a waiter to finally come by, for his hand to leave yours while he talks through the wine menu. Drops it long enough for you to check your phone, realizing with horror that you must have silenced it absentmindedly sometime on your way here.

Ten missed calls.

All from Steve.

And one text, stamped from just five minutes ago.

[SMS] Either you pick up your phone or I pick you up, Counsel.

The next one comes right before your eyes, a picture of a map and a GPS pin. Your location.

You glance up at Andy, still talking to the waiter about the small plates options, feign a smile and Go ahead and choose, you have better taste than me, and return to staring at the picture and the three dots at the bottom of your screen, waiting to see his next message.

[SMS] Make your choice.

The haptic feedback of your keyboard feels like an electric shock with every letter, hurried fingers until you manage to tap out something that won’t immediately put the man in front of you in the crosshairs of the most dangerous organization in New York.

You can’t do that to him. You can’t.

[SMS] I’m at a dinner with a friend.

[SMS] And since I know there’s no emergencies pressing, I’d like my time, thank you.

You have the good sense to set it next to you this time, watching your screen light up with whatever furious response he sends next, glancing over only occasionally every time another one comes through. Don’t let him control you. Don’t let him think you’re at his beck and call.

You’re not.

You’re free, you’re free and you’re going to prove it.

Sunshine? What’s going on?

His voice cuts through the haze of panic like a knife and you swear you don’t mean to jump but you do and there’s no denying what he notices, eyes narrow and lips turned down in a sharp scowl, Sunshine…?

You are not that girl. You cannot be that girl, never again.

Steel. Steel yourself, flash him a smile, take a sip of the ice water left in front of you while you’d been checking your phone, reset yourself. Steady. Steady on.

Don’t let them know.

Nothing, nothing, just the boss — let him know I was busy.

Why is he texting you after hours? The Syndicate can’t be that busy.

He’s too watchful for your own good. Probably just making sure I’m staying out of trouble.

Are you?

Are you calling yourself trouble, Senator?

You like this. You can handle this, the trading of jokes, the crooked way he smiles. His eyes are a little more distant than you remember but you can still see them sparkle softly when he suppresses a laugh, lighting up properly when the joy reflects in them.

Briefly, you wonder when the last time he really laughed was.

By the time dinner is over, his hand, warm and steady, is back on yours as you talk — and for a moment you almost enjoy the way he runs his thumb over your knuckles absently, like he’s making careful appraisal of each one. Could use your skills for the re-election campaign, you know.

Really? You’ve got a gorgeous approval rating, what are you afraid of?

Not having my good luck charm on the staff.

Andy…

I’m dead serious, Sunshine, you ran that ship. You were what, a 2L? Rising 3? You had canvassing down to a science. We need that energy down on the Hill.

The curve of his fingers is a little tighter now, squeezing yours, like proof of his earnestness and oh, you want to keep believing him. You need to keep believing him.

There’s so much in New York I have to get done first. And besides, you know me. I want a life on the bench.

Justice Sunshine, and it sounds absurd when he uses your nickname and it sounds so real when he uses your nickname and in the warm smoke of his voice those contradictions can live together all at once.

That’s the one. Closest you’ll see me to Washington is when I’m appointed to the Supreme Court. It’s a dumb, arrogant, silly joke but it’s the same one you used to make with him over drinks, teasing him about his political goals and making him promise to “go easy on you” at your eventual Senate confirmation hearing.

It’s the one that makes him crack that too-beautiful crooked smile while he takes a sip of his drink — hiding the curve of his lips behind the rim of a heavy glass.

Well. If you ever decide to ditch—

Ever decide to ditch what?

The world moves in slow motion: hearing the low growl from behind you; Andy Barber looking up and rising to his feet, his hand slipping from yours with just the ghost of his comfortable touch to assure you; Steve Rogers coming into view as you turn, flanked by the not-entirely-unfamiliar faces of two of his enforcers — it looked like Wilson and Banner had been selected this evening — and the sudden pressure of knowing you’ve done something terribly, terribly wrong.

You stood me up, Counsel. Steve’s voice is a threat, a half-drawl as you stand up and face him, Andy right behind you, Something wrong with taking my phone calls?

She was busy, the sound of Andy’s voice is a balm to your soul and fuel to Steve’s fire, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth and resists the temptation to throw the first punch — you can see the fingers of his right hand curling into a fist, can’t you? The slow curve, the watching, wondering if you’ll make the right choice now that someone has chosen to try to lead you astray.

And who the fuck are you? If he can’t get you to respond, he’ll get something from the man talking for you, eyes trained on him like he’s debating whether his own frustration will make this interloper turn to nothingness and return you to his arms where you rightfullybelong.

Do you? Rightfully belong?

Senator Andy Barber. The title practically knocks the wind out of Steve’s sails and you can see it — he may be the Captain here, King of New York, ruler of his domain but he’s not stupid enough to openly attack a man with connections beyond the Syndicate’s web of influence. It’s a comfort and it’s not, all at once.

The room is still, vibrating with tension, the two men staring daggers at one another and you caught in the middle. I worked on Senator Barber’s campaign when he first ran for election, you manage out in some vain hope it might explain and mollify, only to be thoroughly disappointed — and judging by the way Banner winces, only to dig your grave further.

We’re talking about this later, Counsel. You’re coming home.

And what gives you the right to give her orders? You really are going to have to look back at Andy and beg him to not make this worse. You really are going to have to let him see your face, see that you’re afraid, sweetness. He’s not going to let you go easy and this should not terrify you as much as it does.

Senator Barber. It’s fine. Something must have come up,turning to face his burning eyes, until his face softens like he’s seeing you for the first time. And is he? Is he seeing how you just need him to let it go, let you go, drop the protectiveness and step back?

He has to, because he does, nodding before he grabs his coat and glances to the host station. If you say so, Sunshine. Take care of yourself. He doesn’t press, not knowing when he’s beat but knowing when you don’t want him to. When you’re not safe.

And Steve Rogers offers you his hand to walk you out.

And just what the hell did you think you were doing!?

Oh, and you control my time off the clock now too?

He dragged you back home.

No. Not to your apartment, that sanctuary away from all this you’d been allowed to keep as part of the “deal.” His home, the bedroom where you signed yourself away, the space he unraveled you and left you tangled in your new life.

He dragged you back home, in the grim silence of the backseat of his car and you waited. Waited for the inevitable explosion, the one prefaced by Wilson’s nervous looks and Banner’s cautious stare.

This explosion, where he rounds in on you, where livid is still too tame a term.

Meeting with a Senator? Ignoring my calls? I told you, you were mine tonight.

And I told you I had plans.

After I told you that you were mine, Counsel.

Okay. That’s true, even if you’re loathe to admit it.

Plans adjust. Andy wanted to—

Oh, Andy now? I thought it was Senator Barber? You’re really familiar with him, aren’t you, Counsel?

Just what the fuck are you implying?

Maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.

He loves to do this. Wrap his big hand around your throat, remind you just how easily he can impose his power onto you, watch your protests die behind your eyes when you realize how useless words are in the face of his violence.

The furious look in your eyes is something to behold, the way you embed your nails into his wrist to try and drag him off you, all soft snarls and indignant huffs, You fucking asshole…

You’re mine, Counsel, and don’t you forget it. You gave yourself to me, remember?

Like I… like I had much of a choice, breathy, furious, and clawing at him.

Doesn’t matter. You’re mine, and clearly I need to make sure you know it…

Steve—!

Captain, sweetness, Captain, and don’t you forget it.

There’s a moment, when anger becomes transcendental, when it turns into something cold and calculating and prepared, when a plan forms behind his eyes and you watch as he looks down at you, so full of fury and fear all at once and you watch as he leans in so close and you feel his hand slide until he has you by the back of the neck, until his thumb is the thing pressing under your chin to keep your eyes on him, until the heel of his hand is the thing keeping you from shouting at him further. Such a stubborn little bitch…

You can almost see the words forming in his mind, the ones his mouth won’t say, I could be so good to you, but he doesn’t say them, sliding his lips over yours instead and it is… soft. A capturing of your mouth with his, not caring that you protest, only insistent on leaving you breathless and hazy-eyed from each tug of his lips on yours and there stokes the warmth of more than your rage, a different fire rising in your core, unbidden and unwelcome but yours to own and his to play with.

He can sense it, practically feel it, that mad serum racing through his veins and making his nostrils flare as he pulls back and watches you, lets the scent of your perfume fill his senses like a drug he can’t get enough of and, I should hate you too, for this, whispered low and hushed and you barely catch it, don’t you? Barely, but enough, enough to remember it was said just before he pulls you down with him into the depths of his own lust.

And into his lap, it seems, as he drags you down, sitting on the bed with you draped over his lap, an effortless shift in his skillful hands. You can protest, and you do, even daring to try to pull away with a kick of your legs and an indignant, What the hell do you think you��re doing?But you know it’s all futile, useless as he places one heavy hand on your back and lets the other slide over the smooth chiffon of your blouse, tracing a line along your spine with careful, practiced ease.

Would have preferred this with a little more… circumstance, sweetness, but you need to learn a lesson now and drastic times call for drastic measures.

You can turn your head slightly, to look at him, that wild-eyed fury so sweet on your face and you are still a wild creature he needs to tame but he is patient and he can do this for as long as it takes.

But you’re a sight like this, draped over his lap in a pencil skirt and blouse, so put together and proper and now so prone to him, helpless under the appraisal of his hands and the way he takes no time in hiking your skirt up around your waist. Captain! Your protest is met with a low chuckle, especially as he lets his palm curve around the round swell of your ass, before leaving a light swat on the soft flesh, to draw a yelp from your furious mouth.

If that’s all it takes to get you shouting, sweetness, you’re going to hate what comes next, smug and cruel, as you try to hold yourself up enough to look at him, met with his smirk and the simmering fury still bubbling in his eyes. To say you’re in danger still is an understatement, no doubt, and you know it.

I won’t make you count this time, but piss me off again, sweetness, and we’ll just see how much you can take, you hear me?

Oh you loathe him, really and truly loathe him, hissing with anger and embarrassment, so close to twisting in his arms and clawing at him but remembering his size and just how much worse it could get — but then there lies the undercurrent.

The one you loathe too, more than you hated him, that warmth. Seeping into your core, a low heat kindled by the sly softness of his lips on yours and the sure tenor of his voice, low and soothing even as he promised damnation. The one that — just like now — leaves you flushed and writhing while he purrs threats to you, massaging the soft skin and sliding the lace of your panties down to remove all barriers to the sex he owns so surely.

You open your mouth to argue with him but as you do, you feel his hand lift from your flesh and then the resounding SMACK of palm on skin, turning words into nothing but a sharp cry of pain, surprise, and lust. The heat rises just as your body tenses, reacting to the sudden attack on your delicate form, cheeks flushed. Even as your eyes well with tears your sex strives to betray you and — Oh do you like that, sweetness? — damn him for noticing.

Let me go, Captain, the threat is shaky, your voice wavering with something like want and panic all at once, and all it does is draw another laugh as he soothes the stinging mark left on your cheek, gentle as a lover and four times as cruel.

Do you know what I think, sweetness? And another raise of his palm, to strike you once more, listening to the way that cry of pain and surprise turns into a soft, involuntary moan the moment he begins to soothe the ache, I think you need this. Always so uptight, trying to be the head bitch in charge, aren’t you? Just looking for someone to take over, take control, remind you where your place is.

His fingers slip further, more interested in exploring the soft slickness of your sex, listening to your protests die in your throat with every press of his fingers into your plush folds. That’s why I’m here, to keep you in my lap, all fucked and soft, sweetness. Don’t you worry, I’m going to take care of you. Even if I have to teach you just like this.

You should hate the way he talks, hates how he finds your center with effortless ease, like he’s known your body for years. Holding you down in his lap still as he draws mewling moans from you with every curl of his fingers, finding the proof of his accusations in the slick need coating your thighs, soaking his fingers, You’re making such a mess of me, sweetness. Are you going to be good?

Hiss at him. Snarl at him, buck your hips and twist in his arms, push him away. Do something more than what you are now, with red-rimmed eyes and tears staining your face, do more than listen to him talk, feel his cock pressing against you as you lay in his lap, I’m going to ask it one more time, sweetness. Are. You. Going. To. Be. Good?

He punctuates each word of his question with a harsh smackagainst your ass, leaving little time for you to do more than cry out, until the last spank draws something like a moan from your perfect lips and therein lies your surrender for tonight, that soft mewl of pleasure born of pain and he soothes you again with soft shushes and gentle touches, back to inspecting the renewed slickness of your cunt, back to enjoying that plump tightness wrapped around his fingers and back to trying to control the shift of his own hips and you can feel him, hard against you, needing you as much as he is compelling your body to need him.

Captain… a low, desperate sort of mewl, the squirm of your body less to escape and more to enticeand he notices. Notices the way your fingers try to cling to him, notices how you look so very sweet when you’re so very desperate and in some way this is your own game of control, a push and pull and the curl of his fingers is suddenly so much angrier, driving you to the precipice of the fall and you are tumbling, tumbling down into a darkness of want you may never recover from.

Say it again. Tell me you need me, sweetness, tell me you need me and I’ll give you everything, and there’s an edge to the way he says everything, like he might meanit, like he might give you the world if you just gave in and you hate him, sweetness, you hate him but you need the things you hate once in a while and you can’t keep bearing his fury on your body and so you sob out your surrender and whine—

I need you, Captain, please…

And that is enough.

Let him believe you.

[justasimptm]

The Bride C3

“My children, thank you all for coming. Lady Dimitrescu, you have my thanks for agreeing to host me, visiting your home is always such a pleasure,” Mother Miranda starts, all attention snapping to her immediately. The praise makes Mother smile, she dips her read in reverence. Miranda sweeps her eyes around at all of us, pausing on each of our forms in acknowledgement, I can nearly feel Moroe shaking when she glances at him. How pathetic. “I’ve asked you all here so we can review our progress, and make changes as necessary. Monroe, why don’t you start for us. How have the Cadou been taking?”

And so it goes around, everyone trying to earn Miranda’s love by saying how well we’re doing, despite no real progress being made. When her gaze finally settles on me I feel uneasy, unsure what she’ll ask me. Mother had been very clear that I was not going to be doing any real work in terms of changing anyone.

“Y/N, my youngest, I have a very important question to ask you. An honor, really. Please come here,” she calls, extending her hand forward. After a glance at my mother and a near microscopic nod of her head in permission, I draw forwards slowly, bowing my head in respect as I stand before her. “Please, daughter, look at me.” Monroe gasps audibly, he’s not allowed to look at her, not this close. Most of us tend to divert our eyes, only looking at her briefly. None of us have ever been specifically instructed to hold our contact.

Shakily my eyes skim up to her face, where a soft but chilling smile rests. She dips down ever so slightly, pulling my hand into hers, sending another shockwave of surprise from our company. Mother Miranda typically prefers not to be touched, so the fact she is initiating this contact makes me uneasy. What could she want from me that she feels she needs to do all of these theatrics to get it? Why does she think I need to feel special?

“Y/N. You’ve grown so much. I remember seeing you, still human, near death. The metamycite allows me to see such things, and my oh my, how you’ve blossomed. Of all my children, how it changed you really is the most amazing.” I can feel the chilled stares, clearly off put by the favoritism. “You’ve all become so much more than you ever expected, but Y/N? She’s still able to retain her form, identical to how she was before, even her newer form is still beautiful. It doesn’t fight to escape her, it helps her shine. She isn’t in danger from things that the other girls are, the cold does nothing to her.” Now I’m starting to get more nervous, all these compliments are certainly leading up to something big, something I don’t know if I’ll be able to give. “And so, as the one I’ve seen bond so well with the change, I have a wonderful question for you.” And here it comes. “I would never wish to take you from your true mother, but with your permission I would like to use your DNA, try to combine it with my beloved Eva’s. I truly feel as though we will have some great success if we do so.”

This even tears a shocked sound from myself and I have to steel every nerve in my body to keep from jerking back and out of her hold. She wants to use me to bring her daughter back? I didn’t even want this. Behind me a loud clap startles me from my frozen state. I can hear my mother thanking Miranda for her generosity, Moroe and Donna chittering between themselves, but Heisenberg is surprisingly quiet.

“Silence!” The room mutes instantly at Miranda’s words. “This choice is for Y/N, and Y/N alone.” She tips my head back up, staring through her mask into my eyes. “What do you think, my child? May I try?”

‘NO NO NO’ I want to scream, ‘no you can’t use me to try to bring your daughter back from the dead. You should just let me die!’ Instead I force a smile, pushing as much faux excitement into it as possible and nodding my head so fast I swear I can feel my brain slamming around. “Yes of course you can, Mother Miranda! I would be so honored to help you! Please, let me do what I can for you!” A smile spreads across her face at my external eagerness. Her hand strokes my cheek, before stepping back.

“Thank you, Y/N.” With that she essentially shoves her hand into my stomach, causing me to gasp and stumble slightly. And then just as quick as she did it, she pulls back, a handful of something in her grasp. Something inside me feels slightly out of place, shifting until it rests back where it thinks it belongs. “I must go now, bring this to my laboratory so I can begin trials.” With that she’s gone in a flurry of crows, leaving the five of us in silence.

Silence which is broken with a crash, and lots of yelling. My mother sighs, growling out my sister's names.

“Daughter, would you mind going and telling your sisters to knock it off.” She says to me, turning to face our company, “It’s time for me to show them out.” I dip my head in acknowledgement, turning and allowing my form to change. Much like my sisters I can essentially hold my full body form, but also shift into insects to move quicker. However, unlike them where they’re flies, I actually can become moths. Much more elegant, if you ask me, which is the only reason I ever even allow myself to do it.

For the first month after my change I had no control, phasing in and out of each form sporadically. I’ve grown since then, now able to focus it into certain areas if I wanted. It takes less than a minute to find where the racket was coming from. The three of them had taken to terrorizing our newest servant, the poor girl was backed into a corner in the study, brandishing a candelabra as if it would protect her. Judging from the state of her clothes and the blood stains they had already gotten a bite of her.

“What on earth do the three of you think you’re doing?” I seethe, their collective attention snaps to me in an instant. The girl lets out a pathetic whimper as I reform and stalk forwards. Bela laughs, twirling her blade around her fingers as she eyes me up and down.

“We were hungry, sister, what do you think we were doing?” She snarks, turning her gaze back to the shaking child, who curls deeper into herself. Cassandra and Daniela let out small confirmations, unable to keep their eyes on me longer than a moment before turning back towards the girl, eyeing her up like a lion would a gazelle.

“I think you’re all acting like imbeciles.” I snap, crossing the room in an instant and throwing them against the wall before latching onto the girl's shoulder and shoving her from the room. “Go get that bandaged, report to my  Mother immediately.” I demand, slamming the door behind her as she stumbles into the hall before rounding back to my sisters. “You three know better. Mother Miranda had barely left before your little stunt. Can you imagine how displeased our mother would have been if you had embarrassed her?”

Daniela rolls her eyes at my dull threat, Cassandra has the decency to look slightly wounded, but Bela? Of course she isn’t done fighting me yet. She takes half a step forwards, cocking her head to the side and smiling at me. “What? Afraid we’ll ruin your chances at being Mother Miranda's special little guinea pig? As if you deserve that. She should have asked us. We’re far stronger than you anyways.” She states, motioning to herself and the other two.

“Yeah,” Daniela says, crossing her arms and stepping up beside her, “You aren’t as special as she thinks. Anything you do, you know that we do it better.” Cassandra joins them, creating a wall of envy.

“You didn’t even want this, remember? Mother should have just let you die. She could have had us, we’re all she needs.” She tells me. Part of me wants to laugh, another part to scream. I wanted to die, I want to tell them, I wish she had let me. But if they thought they could be so much better, then I might as well show them why they’re weak. In an instant I’ve flown across the room, throwing open the window I had once escaped from, letting a harsh breeze of cold air flush the room. They screech at me indignantly to close it as they scramble for the door. I just smile, moving to stand directly in front of the billowing curtains.

“Next time you three start thinking you’re better than me because you were so prepared for this, I want you to remember one thing. You may have asked for this, but you are not stronger than me. I take more than some wind to hurt. Be careful who you try to play with girls, because unlike the maids, I’m not an ant for you to burn with a magnifying glass. You are, and no matter how much my Mother loves you, I am her real daughter, and out of the four of us? Take a guess who she would save.” With that I allow myself to drop backwards out the window, vaguely noting that they managed to get the door open and get out to safety. A feeling of serenity rushes through my veins as I drop. Finally being able to snap at them felt so good, even if later I end up regretting it. After the day I’ve had, there isn’t an ounce of regret in my body. It felt so good to be so cold, to say what I had been craving to say since they came into my life. They had all but imposed upon a life I didn’t want, tried to shoved me into a corner, tried to take what was mine. I am sick of letting people take from me.

God had dictated to take my life. My mother took my death. They tried to take my mother. Miranda wants to take my body. Take, take, take. No more. If this is the life I have to live, then nobody is taking it from me. Never again.

[writingblock101]

Still Insufferable (Damian Wayne x Reader)

This is a part two to Insufferable! I had an anon request this a while back and found some prompts that gave some great inspiration! Hope y’all like it! You don’t need to read part one, but it does make the transition smoother. For reference, you and Damian are 17. 

Words: 2,800 

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

Warnings: None

“Do you ever follow directions?” A familiar, condescending voice asks you from the ground. 

You spot an annoyed Damian Wayne from your upside perch, staring up at you with crossed arms. You grin, a little too excited to see someone who looks so annoyed with you. 

“I’m creating an extensive target practice!” You claim, gesturing with your bow to the targets down range

“By hanging upside from the rafters?” Damian raises an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“You’re questioning my methods.” 

“I’m not questioning it,” Damian corrects. “I’m saying it’s stupid.” 

You gasp in mock offense then unhook your legs and flip to the floor. 

“Your words wound me!” 

“You’ll recover,” Damian says dryly. 

“I thought you would approve of me making a more comprehensive training.”

“You were hanging upside down from the rafters. How is that more comprehensive?” Damian questions.

“Because I don’t always get the pretty shot with the perfect set up in the field!” You argue. “Sometimes, I’m making the shot while hanging upside down with a broken toe!” 

Damian pauses, his eyes flickering to your feet. 

“Is your toe broken?” He asks.

He almost sounds concerned. It’s kind of sweet. 

“No,” You admit. “But what if it was?” 

He blinks. The concern is gone. 

“You spend too much time with Roy and Jason.” 

“Well, Roy is basically raising me at this point, so yeah, kind of,” You point out. 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“Mission briefing.” 

“Aw, you came all the way here to tell me yourself,” You tease Damian, aware of the various intercoms around the Tower.

He scowls at you, but doesn’t dampen your good mood. 

“I was the closest to the range. It made the most sense for me to come tell you.” 

“No need to make excuses,” You shrug. “I get it, I’m amazing and you can’t resist being around me.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You know, that line didn’t fool me when we were 12 and it’s still not fooling me now.” 

Damian’s scowl deepens. 

“Mission briefing, now.” Then he walks off before you can make another smart ass comment. 

Sometimes, Damian makes it too easy. You hit the switch to pull the targets back in, figuring you’ll get your arrows later. 

You’ve been an official Teen Titan for a few months now. After Roy talked you into tagging along with the team for a mission, you were hooked. The rest of the team agreed to extend an invite to you, which you happily accepted. You love the team, including Damian. Despite your constant bickering, you and Damian work well together in the field, enhancing each other’s skills. 

In all honesty, you really enjoy being around Damian. While he’s a bit uptight, when he relaxes, he’s fun to be around. You’ve enjoyed getting to see the more relaxed side of Damian. Besides, it's fun to have someone who keeps up with every sarcastic remark you make, even if it includes him calling you insufferable. It’s a bit of a long shot, but you know Damian likes you more than he makes it seem he does. 

You head to the main conference room of the tower and settle in for a long presentation. While the briefings are long, and rather boring, they’re in depth. You have to give Damian credit, even when things go wrong on missions, his extensive briefings prepare your team for almost every possibility and help make adaptations to the plan on the fly. 

You fiddle with a pen, unscrewing it, laying out the pieces then put it back together as Damian talks. As you get more fidgety the longer the meeting goes on, Damian wordlessly slides a new pen over to you with a slightly different composition. You smile at him and busy your hands with taking part the new pen. Damian’s cheeks darken slightly, but before anyone can notice, he’s back in leader mode. 

Damian pulls up the blueprint, running through everyone’s role and position for the mission.

“And Black Falcon, you’re with me, handling guards on the roof and additional security measures.”

“The dream team,” You grin with a wink.

Damian rolls his eyes and ignores your remark. Instead, he fields any questions then dismisses the team. You glance down at the file briefing in front of you then remember one last question for Damian. As a few Titans clear out, you wander to the front of the room where Damian is studying the blueprint from the presentation. 

“Hey, boss man,” You wave your file at him. “This building is using the Kingsley Security system. What are your thoughts about debuting the new hacking arrows?” 

Damian frowns, flipping to the page with the schematics concerning the security system. 

“How effective is the firewall on the arrows?” 

“If you’re worried about them tracking back to us, the arrows’ firewall should be strong enough to erase our trail.” 

“Should be?” Damian raised an eyebrow. 

“They’ll be fine, but I don’t like to make guarantees.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because sometimes, shit happens.” 

“I don’t like variables.” 

“Well, Dames, I’ve got bad news for you about how life works.” 

You cross your arms, leaning your hip against the table. 

“I don’t like variables on my missions when lives are on the line,” Damian says, scanning over the Kingsley credentials. 

“We’re connected to a computer with the highest level of security to currently exist. Even if they manage to trace back the arrows, they won’t get far.” 

Jon and Colin watch you two bicker about arrows and security.

“He likes having someone to argue with way too much,” Colin mutters to Jon. 

Jon nods along. 

“You’re telling me. He’s not going to do anything about it though.” 

Colin cracks a grin. 

“He’s just gonna roll his eyes and tell her she’s insufferable.” 

Jon and Colin snicker, catching Damian’s attention. He narrows his eyes at the two who sit innocently. 

“Listen,” You bring Damian’s attention back to you. “It’s your mission and I’ll respect whatever you want to do, but the only way for me to improve the arrows design is to test them.” 

“I’ll consider it,” Damian says. 

His phone lights up with notification on the table. Your eyes dart toward the light and your eyebrows go up. Damian catches your eye and snatches his phone off the table with red cheeks.

“Am I your lock screen?” You ask with a small grin. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Damian shoves his phone in his back pocket. 

“Really?” Your grin grows as your eyebrows move higher. 

Jon and Colin watch with shit eating grins. 

“Grayson set it,” Damian growls. “I haven’t bothered to change it.” 

“Sure, he did,” You nod. “It’s a cute picture.” 

The picture is after Damian and Bruce got into a huge argument, bad enough that Damian called Dick to get him out of the Manor. Dick figured it would be a good day to give Damian a childhood experience he missed out on and decided to take Damian to a theme park. Knowing you were in town with Jason while Roy was handling some business in Gotham, he talked Jason into bringing you. While at the park, Dick insisted you and Damian needed to try a funnel cake since neither of you had ever had one. 

You and Damian decided to split one since Dick warned you they were pretty sweet. When you and Damian tried your first bites, Damian’s face instantly scrunched up which made you laugh and Dick managed to catch the moment on camera. 

Damian scowls at you while you just grin. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone and ruin your reputation,” You laugh, leaving the room. 

Damian scowls at you as you leave and returns his attention to collecting his files. 

“Ah Dames, get that look off your face, we all know how you feel,” Jon teases. 

Damian turns, scowling at Jon. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure you don’t,” Colin rolls his eyes. “We can all tell you like Y/N.” 

“She’s--”

“Insufferable,” Jon finishes. “Yeah, we know. You know, just because you keep saying it, doesn’t mean it’s actually true.” 

“And you know, we get it, you’re a condensing, uptight dick--” Colin starts to rattle off. 

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me?” Damian scowls at Colin. 

“It saves time,” He grins at his friend. “But, despite those things, you can be charming when you want to be. And if you actually acted on that charm, Y/N would agree to a date with you.” 

Jon stares at Colin for a minute, looking unimpressed then turns to Damian. 

“My advice is much more subtle. Stop being an ass.” 

“I didn’t ask for advice,” Damian growls. 

“We are aware and we also are aware that you never will,” Colin nods. 

“Why not let yourself be happy, Dames?” Jon asks. 

“I am happy,” Damian glares at the two of them then walks out of the room, tired of hearing their advice. 

“Think he’ll listen?” Colin asks. 

Jon shrugs. 

“Who knows.” 

. . . 

Your back hits the ground but you roll to the balls of your feet, breathing hard. You tighten your grip on your bo staff, ready to lunge for another hit when you notice Damian walk into the training room. As he walks toward you, you straighten up and grab your water, figuring it’s time for a break. Damian raises his eyebrows at your bo staff. 

“That’s not your normal choice in weapons,” He observes. 

You shrug, taking a swing of water and ignoring your cheeks heating up. While you wanted to expand your training, you’ve seen Damian using a bo staff a lot. He seems to like them so you figured you’d give them a shot. Besides, Tim has given you a few pointers. 

“Decided to try something new,” You say casually. 

Damian quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing else. 

“I’ve been thinking--” He starts. 

“A dangerous pastime,” You nod solemnly. 

Damian glares at you but continues, as if he didn’t hear your sarcastic comment. 

“We have a strong enough firewall on the computer in the Tower that if your arrows malfunctioned, we could detect and fight a security breach.” 

“So, I can bring them on the mission?” You finish. 

“Yes.” 

“Sweet!” You grin, pumping your fist. 

Damian rolls his eyes again at your celebration, but you can see him trying not to smile. He turns to leave, but you look back at the bo staff you were training with. 

“Wait! Damian!” You call. 

He turns, looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

“You’re better with a bo staff than I am,” You admit. “Wanna help me out?” 

Damian’s eyes flicker between you and the bo staff. You see a small smile fighting its way onto his face. 

“I’ll change into something more suiting for training.” 

You grin, spinning the staff around you then go into a mock solute. 

“Yes, commander.” 

Damian rolls his eyes again, but leaves to change. 

. . . 

You swing your staff up hard, but Damian blocks it and swipes at your legs with a low kick. Grinning as he falls into the expected move, you flip your staff around and hit Damian’s side. He grunts and moves again, this time, landing a hard blow to your arm. You grimace at the force, but swing your staff around again and manage to knock Damian’s legs out from under him with a move he showed you. 

Damian hits the ground hard with a grunt, but instead of rolling to his feet for another hit, he lays on the ground, looking a little dazed. 

“I got it!” You cheered as Damian sits up, watching you with a small smile. 

“Drive your hips more so the power doesn’t come from your arms as much,” He instructs. 

“You know, with all the archery I do,” You flex a muscular arm. “I’m pretty sure my arms are stronger than my hips at this point.” 

Damian rolls his eyes as he pushes himself to his feet. You swear you sees his eyes lingering on your flexed arm. 

“Basic anatomy,” He claims. 

“Right, your definition of “basic” and a normal person’s is pretty different.” 

Damian raises an eyebrow at you. 

“How do you mean?” 

You narrow your eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t,” But the slow start of a shit eating grin on his face tells you Damian knows how you meant that statement. 

You groan, throwing your hands up. 

“Okay, fine, Wayne. I’ll give it to you, you’re pretty smart.” 

“Am I now?” Damian full on grins, making your heart flutter. 

You roll your eyes again, despite your raised heart rate. 

“I’m not going to say it again.” 

“I didn’t think you would. It doesn’t change the truth.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Why do I still like you, knowing you’re a total asshole?” You question as you walk toward your water. 

Damian freezes for a moment, your words slowly mulling over in his head. Before he can say anything else, his watch beeps. Damian looks down at it with a scowl.

“Duty calls?” You ask, handing Damian his water. 

He looks up from the notification and nods. 

“Get dressed, we leave in ten minutes.”

. . . 

Following your normal post mission tradition, you relax on the roof with a few boxes of take out. You dig into your box of fried rice, enjoying the view as your legs dangle over the edge of the huge tower. The roof access door opens and someone sits next to you but you don’t have to turn to see who. Wordlessly, you hold out Damian’s vegetarian Lo Mein which you took the courtesy to grab while he showered after the mission. 

“Your arrows worked,” Damian comments, accepting the box from you and digging in with his own chopsticks. 

“Mmhm,” You hum with a smirk. “Told you.” 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“Of course you wouldn’t be able to resist making a childish remark.” 

You grin, nudging Damian’s shoulder. 

“You knew I already knew the arrows worked. You just wanted to hear me say it.” 

“I absolutely did not.” 

“Sure you didn’t. I’m irresistible.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Damian corrects. 

“I still don’t believe that line.” 

“Your belief does not change the truth.” 

You laugh, leaning against Damian as you both continue eating, enjoying the view and each other’s company. After the first time Damian joined you on the roof, it became both of your traditions to enjoy your post mission meals together. Later, you would rejoin the team for game night or movie night, but for now, you two enjoy your quiet meals and unwind peacefully. 

Once your meals are finished and the boxes are discarded to the side, you scoot closer to Damian, resting your head on his shoulder. He slowly places a hand on your knee, seeming a bit uncertain. You smile to yourself and squeeze his arm, scooting a little closer to encourage him. He leans into you, seeming more relaxed by the affection. 

“You know,” You finally say after a few minutes of silently watching the sun set. “I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned.” 

“How much did you intend to like me?” Damian asks.

You feel him starting to go stiff. 

“Well, given you insulted me when I first met you,” You point out with a shrug. “I didn’t expect to like you very much.” 

“And now?” Damian asks hesitantly. 

You lift your head from Damian’s shoulder to look at him, your noses inches away.

“Now, you’re pretty alright,” You tease, admiring his pretty green eyes. 

Damian rolls his eyes with a small laugh. 

“Just alright?” He asks, squeezing your knee lightly. 

“Well,” You shrug again, feeling your heart pound. “Maybe a little more than alright.” 

You stare at each other for a long moment until Damian’s eyes flicker to your lips. Here goes nothing. Before you can bring yourself to regret, you close the small distance between each other and press your lips to his. He’s hesitant for a moment, stiff against you. Before you can pull away, Damian’s fingers sink into your hair, pulling you closer as he kisses you back. 

You melt into the kiss and grip his shirt tightly. As he shifts his head to deepen the kiss, a voice yells from behind you: 

“It’s about time!” 

You and Damian jump apart, still holding a hand on each other to see Jon standing by the roof access door. Damian scowls at him while Jon grins like he’s just won the lottery. 

“You have no idea how annoying it was so watch you two pretend like you don’t like each other,” Jon rolls his eyes. “Come on, we’re starting game night.” 

He disappears back through the door as you look back at Damian. 

“Well, duty calls,” You joke, sliding off the ledge. 

Damian turns, catches your wrist, and tugs you back to him.

“They can wait,” He mutters to you, kissing you again. 

You happily melt into the kiss, your hands on Damian’s chest as his hands slide to your hips. 

“Am I still insufferable?” You tease against Damian’s lips. 

He smirks, standing to his feet and pulling you close by your waist. 

“Yes,” He kisses you again. 

I’ve been writing things as I get inspiration. I think I’ll be compiling a prompt lists soon because I have some request... They are really big ideas and I don’t think I can take on any projects that big right now. I hope you enjoyed! 

[bonkers-4-hatter]

!Yandere !Vampire Kisumi X Reader - Love Bites

♥ TW: This fanfic has mentions of kidnapping, violence, assault, biting and mentions of blood along with the biting, forced intimacies, forcing self onto the reader at certain points and yandere themes and actions. ♥ If any of the above does trigger you, please do not read. All characters are 18+ as college is mentioned in the past tense. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥                                                                                              ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥                                  You were never one to believe in such things as mythical creatures, it was just a bunch of nonsense. Of course, they’re wonderful tall tales to tell and talk about when you were younger, but you’re grown now; out of that phase you could say.

Tall tales, that’s all they were...at least you thought they were.

You could draw everything that you’ve experienced and seen as a lack of sleep, working too hard, or just needing a break to calm your mind, but with the most recent experiences you just couldn’t come up with an excuse for them and that very thought chilled you to your core. The dark figure standing in the corner of your room at night using the darkness as a veil, but the thing that stood out to you was the flickers of pink from the top of the figure's head from the small slivers of moonlight peeking through the closed curtains. 

Not only did the figure terrify you, but the touches were what set you over the edge. The soft touches that caressed your cheeks, head and the curves and contours of your body as the hands glided across your blanket covered body. You would always peek your eyes open only to see the same pink hair in your view.

The only person you knew with pink hair was Kisumi. 

He was your friend, a close friend at that. You guys did everything together, having been friends since College it just made sense for you guys to do things together. His behavior used to be carefree, fun and just free. Kisumi was a free spirit, but you noticed something change within him in the past few years; he was more possessive toward you. Always wanting to have your attention, scaring off potential significant others.

This wasn’t his usual behavior with you. Not only that, but his mannerisms have changed too. Not really eating in front of you, coming over at night only; claiming his new job had him working mornings many days and just being too exhausted to go anywhere with you during the day. Just weird things that have come up that rubbed you the wrong way. 

You hated that your mind went to these tall tales of Vampires, but you couldn’t come up with a normal answer. With his towering figure plaguing your mind, the touches that came in contact with your resting body and the constant fear and shiver of being watched by something unknown, hidden, just lurking in the shadows with their eyes fixated on you. 

Looking at how Kisumi was laughing and socializing with your guys’ group of friends, it’s as if nothing changed with him and he was the same ole Kisumi that everyone knew and had a great time with. He might have been able to fool the rest of your friends, but you knew something was up and tonight you were going to confront him even if you sounded like a lunatic. Taking a final drink of your (favorite drink), you placed some money on the table to cover your portion of the bill along with everyone else as everyone started to get up and say their goodbyes, making plans to meet up again next month as usual. 

Giving a final wave to your friends, you felt an arm snake around your shoulders and pulled you into a firm body. “(Y/N)-chan, let’s get you home.” Kisumi’s smooth voice filtered through your ears as you both made your way down the mostly empty sidewalk, the chatter and lively atmosphere of the restaurant dying away the further you walked away. The only noise that echoed around the silent street was both of your footsteps.

“You know I can get myself home, right Kisu?” He only shook his head and rubbed your shoulder, his cold skin giving you goosebumps as he brushed his fingers against the skin of your exposed upper arm. That was another weird thing with him, he was always cold now. He used to be warm, overly warm actually, always a human furnace. Now though, he was always cold to the touch and it always made you shiver no matter how many times it happened. 

“I know (Y/N), but I have to protect you from all the monsters out there, don’t I?” Another shiver ran down your spine at his question, you knew it was playful. It was Kisumi, he was always playful when it came to you, but this felt like it held an underlying meaning; like he was trying to tell you something. Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at his words. “Sure, the monsters Kisumi, whatever you say.” He laughed at your words as the both of you continued to walk down the street in silence. 

Clearing your throat, you decided to just ask him. “So, speaking of monsters, what do you think about vampires?” Kisumi stopped walking as he grasped your shoulder in a tight grip making you reel back as well. “What the hell Kisumi?!” Your shoulder burned a bit at how hard he dug his fingernails into your skin, but he still didn’t let go. Looking at his face he had a stoic look and his eyes were menacing in a way; narrowed and pointed right at you. “Vampires? Now, why would little (Y/N)-chan bring up such a thing as Vampires?” The malice that was laced in his voice was evident and downright terrifying especially in a situation where you were alone with him at night on an empty street. 

You tried to yank yourself away from his strong hold, but he didn’t let up. “It was a joke Kisumi, what’s wrong with you?” He only smirked at your words, before pushing against your shoulder until you hit the brick wall of one of the buildings. “A joke huh?” Placing his other hand on your free shoulder, he pinned you in place, the brick rubbing against your exposed skin in a way that it surely would leave marks. Before you could protest, Kisumi leaned down to your ear and whispered, “Do you think it’s a joke as you watch me in the corner of your room, or when I touch your delicious body in bed?” Your breath caught in your throat at his words. 

Your hands pushed hard against his chest, fear crawling up your body at his words. “That’s not fucking funny Kisu, I’m leaving.” Without waiting for him to respond, you shoved your way past him, resuming the trek to your house. Even the thought of your house wasn’t safe, it made you even more fearful, but you didn’t have much of a choice at this point. You felt like the darkness was suffocating you at this point and without a second thought, you ran the remainder of the few blocks, your front door in your view making you somewhat relieved. 

Deadbolting the door, your body slid down, settling at the floor. You felt exhausted, fearful and not to mention paranoid. Heavy eyes scanned the living room and what you could see of your hallway and everything seemed clear. Getting up with weak legs, you turned on every light in the house paying no mind to the thought of your electric bill nor how silly it seemed. This was what made you feel safe and at this point you were going to do anything to feel that way. 

After changing into some pajamas and trying to relax from the encounter with Kisumi, you found yourself wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, television playing a cliche horror movie. Wanting something to take your mind off what happened, you got sucked into the black and white film.

Your mind was completely preoccupied with the slasher film, blanket clutched in your hands, hiding your face behind the fuzzy comfort item as specific gory and violent scenes would pop on the screen. Usually you would watch these movies, any movie really with Kisumi...your mind went to your friend for a moment, not of the creepy things that have arisen recently, but of the memories of you both together. He would be here right now poking fun at you for being scared of these scenes, but also ‘protecting’ you from whatever was going on.

As your mind was wandering, you didn’t notice the presence next to you, not until a hand was on your thigh, fingers tapping against the supple flesh that was exposed from your pajamas. A scream erupted from your throat, but a hand clasped over your mouth, muffled cries were the only thing in the room, the noises on the television being drowned out by the thumping of your own heart. “Now (Y/N), this is the best part, hold in that scream for a minute, alright love?” His hand was still over your mouth and his free one was still trailing along your thigh. Side eyeing him, he sat there with a content smile on his face, eyes still glued on the screen. You stayed in that position for the next ten minutes until the credits were rolling.

“I loved watching these movies with you (Y/N), it was nice to be your savior when you got scared at certain scenes.” His hand uncovered your mouth, but started to stroke the soft skin down the slope of your neck getting dangerously close to the valley of your chest. “K-Kisu...how’d you get in?” Your body started to tremble as he just laughed at the fear pouring out of you at this moment. Gripping the back of your neck, Kisumi pulled you toward him, his face shoving itself into the crook of your neck as he started to place soft kisses along the slope of your neck and your collarbone. 

You felt his hot breath fan your skin as he answered your question. “Oh (Y/N), I think you already know the answer...I always tell you to lock your window.” The color drained from your face. Your window. The window that was always unlocked. It was something you didn’t think about because it was on the second floor. A place no human can reach because there were no trees, ledges, anything to help with climbing up. 

“Am I right Kisu?” A single question you needed answered. A heavy silence hung in the air as the man in question even stopped his kisses on your skin. “You’re always right (Y/N), I knew you would piece everything together, my (Y/N) is smart after all.” You could feel the sharpness of teeth scrape against the tender flesh of your neck, your breath hitching at the sensation. 

“I’ve always wanted to taste you, to know how sweet your blood is, I might get addicted to it (Y/N), but I don’t want to drain you dry...I want you around forever with me.” He laughed at the flinch in your body as he pressed his fangs a bit deeper into your neck. “You’re not ready to be changed yet either.” Sitting back up, he effortlessly pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist and anchoring you to him. “I think I’ll keep you as my personal toy until you’re ready to be changed, doesn’t my (Y/N) like the sound of that?” Fully grinning at the petrified look on your face, he showed you his sharp fangs, tongue sliding over them to add emphasis on what would happen if you disobeyed him.

--

You didn’t know what month it was, let alone the day. You just knew it’s been so long since Kisumi took you that night at your former house. After he had you in his arms, he told you what was going to happen. You got to pack what you could that night and he took you away. His home was your home now, or as he puts it, our home. 

He didn’t let you out, the house was your own personal prison and you...you were Kisumi’s personal blood bag. He didn’t want to kill you, nor turn you yet, but he had to have a taste of your blood, he tasted every other aspect of you and he knew he’d be addicted to your blood and it turns out he was.

Your skin was littered in bite marks. He would pierce your skin and take a drink from you, enough to make you dizzy before he stopped himself. He couldn’t wait for the wound to heal which is why he bites you in any available skin no matter where it is. 

He just wanted your sweet blood. Sometimes he would go overboard and will only stop if you pass out. Due to him feeding on you, you were exhausted. You turned into a shell of your former self with his constant feeding. Dark bags were under your eyes, droopy lids accompany them as well. All you wanted was rest, proper rest, but you knew you’d never get that again. 

You wouldn’t get anything you wanted again.

“(Y/N), my love, there you are.” Your head lolled to the side, Kisumi standing there with his usual smile on his face. The bed dipped down as his hands smoothed over your body, caressing any part of you he could get. He kissed your lips and made his way down to your neck. Before he could do anything, you whined out, hands weakly trying to stop him. 

“Please, not today Kisumi, I don’t think I can do it. I hurt so much, you drank too much yesterday, please give me a day to recover.” Kisumi cupped your face, thumb stroking the dark bags that decorated under your eyes. “Rest? (Y/N), we’ve been over this already sweetheart, I need to taste you everyday otherwise I might snap and we wouldn’t want that, right?” His hand clutched your face, squishing your cheeks together as you frantically shook your head not wanting to have him hurt you again.

“Good, that’s my good girl.” Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he let your face go, a breath of relief escaped you as he bared his fangs and traced them over the scarred skin before sinking into the skin of your neck, a place he hasn’t touched in a week which was plenty of time to heal in his opinion.

“Ahh, Kisu...hurts, Kisu, it hurts..” Your weak voice flooded his ears, but he paid you no mind, you always struggled when he did this, but you were his to use and abuse to his desire. You were his little toy, his precious (Y/N).

The feeling of your blood sliding down his throat was beautiful. It was like a drug to him, he couldn’t get enough of it and he knew he was breaking you, but he didn’t care. He will turn you soon and you’ll be fine, but for now he needs you to keep hanging on. The quiet moans of pain only turned him on as he sunk his fangs deeper in your soft skin. “Kisu..too much, stop, please.” Soft pounding of your hands on his back snapped him out of his trance, Unlatching himself from your neck, your head fell to the side, eyes half lidded and skin heated after the ordeal. 

Licking a stray drop of blood from his lips and the puncture wounds on your neck, he was satisfied for now. Even though he was addicted to your blood, he was excited to turn you. You would finally be his forever, just as it should’ve been. Smirking at your worn out body, he gave you one last kiss before throwing a blanket over you and stalking off to finish your turning ceremony.

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Four

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.5k

Warning: A bit of violence, talk of kidnapping and torture, talk of surgery, a hint of PTSD

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

NOTE: I would like to thank everybody for your support. As I previously said, this is the first time posting creative writing on any platform. As a thank you, I’ll be releasing two chapters today (3/19/21). Again, any feedback is appreciated. Enjoy (:

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Chapter Four- I Guess We Can Be Friends

The rest of the team returned finally. A smile returned to Y/N’s face after seeing her brother and Wanda after the week. Steve made sure to get a run down of everything that happened in his absence from Clint and Bucky. Hearing of her nightmares, the voice she heard, and the progress her and Bucky had made. Steve and Bucky both exchanged the word ‘progress’ again with a smile. The chip they had recovered was protected, they couldn’t access the information on it right away, having to do some deep digging.

Steve found his sister chatting with Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened. Y/N talked to Wanda about her nightmares and how Bucky was the one who woke her from them. She told her friend about how she heard the voice in her head, to which Wanda looked concerned. With Y/N’s permission, she could look to see if there was something else in her head, but she would wait for that until Y/N was ready for that. Steve entered the room with a light knock, smiling at Y/N.

“I’m all caught up on things that happened while we were away.” Steve told his sister, with a small comforting smile, “We recovered your chip still in tact. We are trying to get into it the information on it.”

Y/N nods, then looks at Wanda, “I need you to do it. Look in my mind and see if there is someone else.” She said, to which Steve and Wanda both looked shocked, “Please Wanda, I can’t sit here and wait to see if he starts whispering again. I have to know if it is real or if it’s me slowly going insane.” She whispered the last part.

“Don’t you think we should wait for a little bit? At least until we see the information on the chip?” Steve asked, concern in his voice. He didn’t want to push his sister into anything that could more damage her fragile state.

Y/N looked from her brother to Wanda, nodding, “Do it.” She demanded.

They gathered in the medical bay, allowing Y/N to lay on one of the beds. Wanda positioned herself behind her friend’s head, looking to her for permission. Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. The whole team watched closely, besides Natasha who had already left to go to the prison. Bucky and Steve had concerned looks on their face about this. Wanda positioned her hands on either side of Y/N’s head, red glowing from her fingers. For a moment, it was silent as Wanda searched, before she drops her hand, looking up to Steve with wide eyes, “There’s someone in there.. I can’t tell who but he is definitely the cause of the whispers. It’s has the same energy as Y/N, but it’s darker, stronger.” Wanda said gently, then looking at Y/N’s face. For a moment, Y/N looked relieved that she wasn’t going insane or being haunted by ghosts. But then worry came across her face as she realized something else was pulling strings in her head.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet, feeling useless. He couldn’t protect Y/N from the voice in her mind. He had the instincts to protect Y/N from anything and everything. He was determined to find this owner of this voice in her head, make it stop.

“We will wait to see what Natasha figures out.” Steve broke the silence, walking over and helping his sister up from the table. He looked down at her and offered a smile, to which one was returned up to him.

When Natasha was able to get into the information on the chip, she gathered the team to share her findings. She waited for them all to be seated around the circular table before beginning, “The chip showed what Y/N told us. It was used to send direct orders to her no matter where she was in the world. We are still working on downloading the information of where she went and what she did.” Natasha paused, “It also had a second function. It was blocking out some other transmission to her brain. I would guess it was keeping away the whispers that Y/N is now hearing. We aren’t sure what is causing the whispers or why it was important for Hydra to keep them out.” She paused, before looking at the rest of the team, “We don’t know how dangerous these whispers are. There was a reason Hydra wanted them blocked out. They could pose an immediate threat. The safest option would be to keep Y/N in the detention center until we know more.”

Y/N had snuck to listen outside the room. She was very quiet, and could get away very quickly if necessary. She, after all, was trained for things like sneaking around and gathering information without being seen, among other things.

The room fell silent as the team processed what Natasha was proposing to them, “We can’t do that to her.” Steve told the team, “She hasn’t been a threat to any of us since the first night. If we put her in one of the detention cells, it’ll show we don’t trust her and think she’s dangerous. Y/N is just trying to get back on her feet. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us.”

“I don’t trust her. That’s the issue.” Natasha countered, “If those whispers are dangerous, she can snap at anytime and turn on any of us. If she bites one of us and flees, that’s the end of it. Someone will die. We have to take necessary precautions.”

Bucky glared at Natasha for this idea, his jaw clenched, “You can’t do that to Y/N.” He repeated Steve’s words, “She dug herself out of a grave she was meant to stay in, took the chip out, and found us for help. She just wanted to see her brother again.” He said, “She attacked me for a reason. I have forgiven her. She’s not a threat unless we treat her like one or give her a reason to feel threatened.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, eyeing everybody else in the meeting, “If we force her into a cell, we are no better than how Hydra forced her into that coffin. She will break down as it reminds her of the things she went through. You break that trust, we won’t get it back. Any of us.” He said, looking to Steve, then Clint, and to Wanda who was nodding her head in agreement.

Wanda cleared her throat before speaking, drawing the attention to herself, “Y/N is not a current threat to anybody. I’ve seen in her mind, but more importantly I’ve spent almost every day with her. She just wants to live and be happy. Her mind is full of good. She’s a good person of which horrific things have happened to. Y/N doesn’t deserve to be punished for something she hasn’t done yet. I can keep an eye on her mental state, let us have an early warning if the whispers come back stronger.” Wanda watched the others as they slowly nodded in agreement to what she was saying.

“I have part of a solution.” Clint finally spoke, his arms crossed as he sat in his chair leaning back, “She doesn’t pose a threat now. I’ve trained with her more than anybody, she knows how to hold back. She has self control. But, just in case, why don’t we keep some of her blood in stock in case she does snap and bites one of us?”

Steve nodded, “I think that’s the best idea. We will get her to donate some blood to us for emergencies. She will understand and want to help. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us, she will want us to have the cure.” He looked at Bucky for a moment, before looking to Natasha who shook her head, knowing she was out numbered, “For now, we keep an eye on her. Help her. If something happens, we will discuss it.” He said in a tone that everybody knew meant the conversation about locking Y/N away was over. He sighs, slowly standing, “On another note, the annual fundraising gala is tomorrow. Everybody pick a charity of your choice before the party.” Natasha folded her arms, looking at Steve, “You really think the gala is the best idea right now?”

“Of course. We have been walking on eggshells for six months, putting all our focus on unraveling this mystery. We need a break. Thor is already coming in, and the guests have already sent in their RSVP. They’re expecting it. ” He said, knowing he was just irritating and pushing the limits with Nat, who had now exited the room in a hurry, “I guess that concludes our meeting.”

Y/N listened, she took a deep breath, then started chewing on her bottom lip. When they started speaking of the gala, she left. She knew when her brother used that tone it was end of discussion with her situation. She swiftly made it back to her room, sitting on her bed, pulling a magazine onto her lap. She just flicked the pages, not reading it at all. She was thinking about what was said in the team’s discussion. What Natasha said, about locking her away. Maybe that was for the best, she didn’t want to be a threat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else. But listening to what Steve and Bucky said, they were right. The way Bucky talked about how she would break, he was right. She couldn’t keep herself under control if she was locked away, isolated. It would just be more proof that she was who she thought she was, a hopeless killer.

Y/N heard Wanda approaching and focused back on reading the magazine. Wanda came in beaming with a smile, “Up, up, up, get up!” She said, pulling Y/N by her hands to her feet.

Y/N smiled and laughed, letting her pull her to her feet, “What are we doing now?” She asked, happy to have a best friend like Wanda. She brought joy into Y/N’s life, someone she can be herself around.

“We are going shopping, where’s your shoes?” Wanda said as she searched around the room before throwing the black combat boots at Y/N, how caught them with ease, “The gala is tomorrow and we need to find some dresses.”

Y/N put her shoes on quickly, excited to go out and spend the day with Wanda shopping. She hadn’t got to leave the facility that much, she was excited to see what the world offered her today. Plus it would be nice to get her mind off of what she learned listening to the meeting.The two walked out the front of the facility, Wanda spinning the car keys in her hand. Y/N looked back at the facility, seeing Natasha watching her through the window, before getting in the black BMW with Wanda, “What’s Nat’s issue today?” She asked, curious of what the reply would be.

Wanda waved her hand as if to say forget about it, “Oh don’t worry, that’s just her face. She has RBF. Some days it flares up more than others.” She joked, putting the key in the ignition and speeding down the driveway towards town. On their dress mission, they talked about things. Wanda asked Y/N to tell her if she started hearing whispers again, that it was very important to let her know to which Y/N nodded, promising her best friend. Then they talked about something Wanda always wanted to talk about. Bucky. Wanda knew Y/N’s feelings about him, the good and the bad ones. Lately the better ones have been taking over and replacing those bad memories. Wanda was determined to help replace those memories, for Y/N’s sake and Bucky’s. She knew Bucky still had strong feelings for Y/N, it was hard not to keep out his thoughts when they screamed so loudly for Y/N. And she also knew that Y/N still had those lovey-dovey feelings for Bucky, just maybe a litter deeper down.

THE NEXT NIGHT

Wanda was helping Y/N get ready for the gala, already done getting herself ready. This was Wanda’s favorite event the team held. They got to dress up all fancy and let loose in their own home. There was no shop talk, just fun. Wanda slowly ran the curling iron through Y/N’s blonde hair, curling the ends perfectly so they would bounce as she walked. Wanda was already dressed and ready. As she finished up Y/N’s hair, she smiled, placing the curling iron down, “Don’t touch that.” She warns, not wanting her friend to get burned. Y/N nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She was all dolled up for this event.

Wanda smiled, putting on her heels, “I’ll meet you out there.” She said, heading for the door, before looking back at Y/N who was still looking at herself in the mirror, ��C’mon Y/N, get dressed. Chop chop!” She said and then disappeared out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Y/N tore her eyes away from herself. Her eyelashes were darkened with mascara and her lips were red from a lipstick she borrowed from Wanda. She looked very similar to how she did when she was taken by Bucky. She had curled her hair, put on red lipstick, excited to meet him for their date that never happened. The memory was painful, but she thought about the things Bucky had done for her. He was patient, kind. He helped her through break-downs. He said all the right things. He was being the Bucky she remembered and wanted. She decided she would be open to giving him another chance, being more accepting of him. The only way she would know for sure is if she let him in a little bit. She slowly stood, walking over to the closet and pulling her dress out. Wanda had helped pick it out. Y/N was a little reluctant, the style of dresses had changed since the last time she had worn one. When did they become so revealing? Y/N slipped off the robe she was wearing to get ready, placing it on her bed. She slipped the black dress on. It fit her curves perfectly, although maybe a little tight, “God how do people breathe in these.” She said, flattening out the scrunched lines as she walked in front of the mirror. The dress was jet black, flowing to the floor. There was a slit up the side to show off her pale leg, a little too high if you asked Y/N but Wanda assured her it was the style. It had sleeves that draped over her arms, a small dip in the front but not too revealing. She lifted her hand to her shoulders, her fingers brushing against the silver scars from a past life. She didn’t remember how she got the ones that looked like bites, but there were many of them that were hidden by the view of this dress. She slipped on her black heels, wishing she could just wear her boots. But Y/N knew Wanda would just drag her back to the room to put the shoes on. Y/N gave herself one final glance in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, she was beautiful. Even with the red eyes that seemed to glow. She turned and made her way out of her room and to where the party was being held.

As she entered, Wanda immediately was at her side, handing her a glass of dark wine which Y/N accepted immediately, taking a small sip. The lounge was decorated beautifully and filled with people who were all dressed up also. Steve was sitting at the bar with Bucky and Sam, laughing. He noticed his sister’s arrival and quickly walked over to greet her.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve said, giving her a quick hug, “I’m glad you decided to come. It’ll be fun.” He promised.

“Yeah I didn’t get to really decide.” Y/N laughed, looking at Wanda, “I’m pretty sure she would’ve dragged me down here, I figured it was easier to come willingly.”

Steve chuckled, giving Wanda a thankful smile, “It’ll be great, don’t worry about anything. Tonight is all about fun.” He said, placing an encouraging hand on his sister’s shoulder, before getting pulled away by some men who seemed excited to have a conversation with the Captain America. Steve figured a Y/N needed some fun. It had been all serious since she came back that she hasn’t really gotten to live.

Y/N and Wanda walked around, introducing themselves to guests and sharing stories. Well, Wanda was doing the sharing. Y/N didn’t have any stories to share, just listened and laughed as she met all the new people. All of them were very nice, and not too intrusive.

Bucky had noticed Y/N as soon as she walked in. He about spit up his drink by how beautiful she looked. He wondered if this is what she would’ve looked like for their date that never happened. It made his heart jump thinking about it. He watched Steve go up to her, a little jealous that he was just able to approach her so easily. He watched her throughout the night, staying at the bar. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Y/N was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He watched her laugh, envying the wine glass she kept bringing to her lips. It reminded him of the one kiss they shared. He cherished that memory of them. Her lips were so soft against his. He wanted that feeling again but knew it was out of his grasp.

At some point, Bucky lost track of Y/N in the crowd. His eyes scanned all the faces in the room, looking for her. He stood up when he saw she wasn’t with Wanda. They had been together the whole night, but now they weren’t. He pushed through people, apologizing and saying excuse me as he searched for Y/N, before turning to look out a window. She was standing out on the lawn alone, her head tilted up to the sky. He immediately made his way out there, wanting to make sure she was alright. He shut the door quietly and approached Y/N, smiling.

“Y/N?” He said, wanting to give her a heads up he was approaching, “Everything alright?” He asked as he stood beside her.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” She said, looking over to him with her red eyes. She noted how handsome he looked. He was wearing an all black suit, his hands in his pockets. She returned her gaze up to the stars, a soft smile on her red lips, “Just needed some air. I got distracted by the stars. They’re beautiful.”

Bucky kept his eyes on her face, “Yeah.. Beautiful.” He said, not talking about the stars. He examined her face. She was smiling, and her expression was nothing but happiness. He loved seeing her like this- happy. It’s what she deserved.

Y/N looked back to Bucky, noticing he was still staring at her, knowing he wasn’t calling the stars beautiful. She turned towards him, her red eyes meeting his crystal blue ones. She smiled softly, her red lips curving, before she looked down at her almost empty glass of wine, “Buck…” She said softly, as if ashamed, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. And… you know.. biting you,” She gestured towards the scar on his neck, biting her lip before continuing, “I know that wasn’t you. They were in your head like they were in mine.” She was just now realizing it had been god knows how long since she drank and she may be a little tipsy.

Bucky shook his head at her apology, his hand leaving his pocket as he touched her arm, “Hey, don’t. It’s fine. Your last memory of me was taking you to them. I understand. I probably would’ve had the same reaction. It hasn’t changed the way I see or feel about you, darling. I know who you are. You don’t have to apologize for your trauma.” He said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N lifted her head again to meet his gaze. His skin on hers felt almost electric. It made her skin crawl, her hairs standing up. She nodded, her eyes looking around Bucky, anywhere but his face. Hearing him call her ‘darling’ made her body feel warm. She felt like her heart was racing. She finally looked at his face. She could tell he had just cut his hair recently, probably to look nice for the gala. He looked just like the Bucky she knew. When she arrived his hair was longer, but now his hair was shorter, those blue eyes watching her, a small grin on his face. She took a small step towards him, “Since all is forgiven…” Y/N said, her eyes keeping contact with his, “I suppose that means we can be friends.”

Bucky’s grin only widened as she took a step towards him, his eyes never leaving her face. He was observing every move she made. Everything about her was extraordinary. As she spoke the words he had long waited for her to say, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, “I would love that.” He replied, “That means we can do friend stuff, right?” He said, talking a small step closer to her, his hand still on her arm, “Like go for coffee, watch movies, have dinner sometime?” He said softly, hoping he wasn’t overstepping with her.

“Hot chocolate,” She corrected, “Not coffee.” She smiles, her eyes watching his as he stepped closer, she bit her lip slightly, her focus moving from his eyes to his lips.

Bucky chuckled at her response, “Hot chocolate with caramel.” He responded, remembering it was her favorite. He knew she didn’t like coffee, but she loved hot chocolate. He was locked onto her eyes that looked at him from underneath her long, dark lashes. He looked at her lips for a moment, wondering if he should move in closer. He felt as if she was giving him all the signals, even flirting back with him. She hadn’t denied him. He leans his face in closer to hers slowly, watching for any reaction, which to his surprise didn’t come.

Instead, a different surprise happened. A flash of light separated the two quickly. When the light faded, Y/N noticed a circle emblem on the ground, but then noticed the man standing in the middle of it. He had short blonde hair, was tall and muscular. He held a large axe in his hand.

“Great timing, Thor. Good to see ya. You’re late.” Bucky said, obviously a little annoyed that the moment between Y/N and himself was ruined.

“Barnes! Good to see you.” Thor replied, placing a pat on Bucky’s back. He was smiling ear to ear, obviously excited about the event, “Who’s your friend?” He said turning to Y/N.

Y/N smiled, “Y/N Rogers.” She said, her red eyes studying him. She had read about him and heard all the stories.

Thor looked at Y/N confused for a moment, “Steve got married? I wasn’t invited?” He said, almost hurt looking.

“No..” Both Y/N and Bucky said at the same time, both laughing a little bit, “I’m his sister.”

Thor looked relieved, before smiling, “Oh yeah, I see the resemblance now. Besides the red eyes, that’s extremely interesting.” He said, point at his own eyes as he talked about hers. Noticing he made her slightly uncomfortable with the comment, he continued, “Well, I better go in and say hello.” He said, walking passed the two and into the party.

Y/N looked back at Bucky, laughing a little at what just happened. It was a little awkward and embarrassing, but the timing was funny to her.

Bucky smiled as she laughed, “So uhm…” He chuckled out, watching her closely, “More wine?” He said, motioning towards the almost empty wine glass still in her hands.

Y/N shook her head, smiling, “Oh no, I’m good. It’s been forever since I’ve had a drink. Tonight I’m a one and done type of girl.” She said, nodding as she told herself this. She was already a little tipsy, she didn’t want to press her luck, “We should head back in though. My feet hurt and there’s some left over pasta in the fridge that’s calling my name.” She said, turning and starting to head back inside. Bucky followed her close behind, smiling to himself. She was treating him like a friend, maybe even more than a friend. She was talking to him like she had growing up. It was exciting to him. It reminded him of a simpler time. He followed her up the stairs to the kitchen in the living quarters, watching as she heated up her food in the microwave. Y/N grabbed a fork, turning to see him still there, “I’m gonna eat this in my room then go to bed.” She said, smiling a little.

Bucky nodded, “I’ll walk you.” He said, even though it was right down the hallway. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, just in case this was a dream he was going to wake up from soon. He joined her as they walked down the hall, stopping at her door and opening it for her.

Y/N slipped into the room and placed her food on the desk before turning back to Bucky who was still standing there like a dream, waiting for her. She approached him, smiling, “Thank you.” She said softly, She reached her hand out and touched his arm, still smiling up into his eyes, “Good night, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned at her touch, “Anytime, doll. Good night.” He said happily, accepting the fact this would be the end of their night together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Tonight was perfect to him. He turned to return back to the party down the stairs. Nothing could bring him down tonight.

Y/N smiled at the pet name, giving his face once last glance, before shutting the door. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She felt undeniably happy. There was no negativity creeping in at all. She quickly kicked off the heels and changed out of her dress into some sweats and a tank top, hanging the dress back up in her closet. She grabbed her pasta and sat on her bed, turning on the tv. It didn’t take long for her to finish her food, placing the now empty food box in the trash before curling up in bed, falling asleep.

Thor had made his way around saying hello to everybody, before returning back to Steve who was now with Bucky at the bar, “You didn’t tell me you have a sister,” He said to Steve, holding a mug of beer in his hand.

“It never came up.” Steve said, smiling at his friend.

Thor shrugged, “Would’ve been nice to know. The red eyes are very interesting.” He mentioned, taking a large drink of her beer, “Is she otherworldly?”

Steve shook his head, “No, she was a Hydra experiment.” He informed, looking uncomfortable by this conversation.

Thor nodded, taking note of the buttons he seemed to be poking on Steve, “That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry.” He said, placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Oh, and sorry for ruining your moment.” He said to Bucky.

“Moment?” Steve asked, looking from Thor to Bucky, “There was a moment?”

Bucky said silent for a moment, before speaking, “It’s alright, Thor. Y/N and I were just talking.” He said.

Thor looked from Bucky to Steve, “Right… Talking. That’s definitely what I saw.” He said with a smile, “I think I need another.” He said as he looked at his now empty mug, before walking away.

Steve watched Thor leave, before looking around the gala, “Where is Y/N?” he said, realizing he hadn’t seen his sister in a while, and after hearing about the potential ‘moment’ he wanted to make sure she was alright.

“She went to bed, I walked her up.” Bucky said, to which Steve looked at him, eyebrows raised, “She said we could be friends again.” He informed, smiling slightly, though he didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for from his friend.

Steve nodded slightly, “Just friends.” He said. He was never thrilled about the idea of his best friend and sister growing closer. He was Y/N’s brother after all. He knew Bucky was a good man, but he still couldn’t think of them being anything more than friends, “I’ll head up there, be close just in case anything happens.”

“No, I’ll go. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb her.” Bucky said, standing from his seat at the bar, “Besides, you’re in charge of this party. Can’t be leaving. I’ll just sit down the hall until Wanda comes up.” He promised, to which Steve nodded almost reluctantly, still wondering what moment Thor had intruded on. Bucky turned and made his way back up the stairs. Keeping his promise to Steve, he sat outside Y/N’s door in the hallway. He could hear the tv on inside the room, listening as he tried to determine what she had been watching before she fell asleep. He concluded it must be a tv medical show of some sort. After about another hour, Wanda came through the hall, giving a smile towards Bucky with a nod as if to say she had it from here, before disappearing into the room. Bucky stood, watching the door close he caught a glimpse of Y/N sleeping soundly. He smiled, tucking his hands back in his pockets as he made his way back to his own room.

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