#without giving us any reason for why he signed the document with an x or where he learnt

[electric-friend]

i never REALLY cared one way or the other wether or not ed was illiterate but by the time they revealed he could read i was honestly a bit annoyed by it, for no other reason than that i had gotten really fucking sick of people saying it was racist or classist to assume that ed couldn’t read because they were conflating illiteracy with stupidity and saying it was an insult to ed’s intelligence which was always so frustrating to me. ed can be very smart and still be illiterate. maybe he wasn’t able to teach himself because he was too busy trying to survive or because he had trouble reading for some reason and he didn’t have the money to access the education for it as a kid. there are adults who can’t read or write in the world and that doesn’t make them stupid and it was never racist or classist to assume that ed might not be able to read or write. at first i didn’t care but the fandom’s attitude towards illiteracy made me hope that ed was illiterate just so people would stop treating illiteracy as a sign of ed being stupid or people being bigoted in their interpretation *because* it was being seen as a sign of ed being stupid. so that when it was revealed ed could read, just because of the fandom’s attitude, i was like “well that’s annoying”. cause now nobody is going to talk about how dumb the attitude towards illiteracy was in the fandom.

[reginrokkr]

Do you think Halfdan is a exacly a pure blooded Khaenri'ahn in the same way Chlothar Alberich is? i asked this question to others some said yes, some said no, what do you think about this?

The caribert quest really made me confused about this..? if non- pure blooded Khaenri'ahns turned into monsters then the black serpent knights isn't pure blooded then..? Yet we have Dainsleif in world quest described as half-turned monster but he isn't like Halfdan in any way. And there's this ring of nibelung which Dain used where he refers this by "how he retrained his consciuosness without it" to Halfdan, also there's ynghildr who used the same ring but turned into a monster anyway.

i personally think it makes sense to Halfdan to be impure blooded Khaenri'ahn because his name "Halfdan" means half-danish also in epic poem Beowulf the name Halfdan is solely named after a Man just because the admixture of in his blood.

So what do you think? Love to hear your thoughts

Hello, nonnie! First of all, thank you for your appreciation for my thoughts and for the question, I hope it won't be too confusing what I'm about to ramble.

To be direct, yes. I believe that Halfdan is a pure-blood Khaenri'ahn. Not solely because of the star-shaped pupils he has like Chlothar and Dain have, but because he also didn't turn into a hilichurl. Now, let me preface that I see perfectly where you're coming at the mention that he turned into a monster either way, but it's highly relevant to give importance to the word choice you had yourself: monster, not hilichurl. The reason I say this is because I have my suspicions that the curse of wilderness, the turning into an abyss monster (see as abyss monster: mages, lectors, heralds, iniquitous baptists) and the turning into what we typically know as Black Serpent Knights fiends have a root in common which is this demonification (there was a time when the description of Nahida's twig talked about a demonic sky), abyss-like influence with or without Forbidden Knowledge in between.

So to make better sense of why I separate these three despite all of the groups being essentially monsters, I'll make a little break down:

In order to become a hilichurl there are two requisites: 1) is to abandon one's god either directly (x) or indirectly (x's descendants) and 2) you can't have the purity of blood part of the Khaenri'ahns are known to have (I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that they're untainted by fate, but I'll leave this as a bit of food for thought). Halfdan in this case specifically would be ruled out of this because even if there were this doubt of whether that clean star-shaped pupil is a 100% trustworthy sign of one's purity, he didn't turn into a hilichurl despite being far from Khaenri'ah territory.

Now that we have that out of the way, let's focus on the other two different kinds of monsters. Those that are typically connected to the Abyss Order (mages, heralds, lectors, baptists), in order to turn the way they currently are, there seems to be an undefined pre-requisite. The one that I noticed is the will to become one such monster, to embrace the abyss willingly. It may not be accurate to the way it happens, but we do have a couple of examples where the common denominator of these individuals is that they wanted it. These individuals are: Klingsor (he appeared in Khvarena of Good and Evil), Jakob and René. Klingsor took great interest in the abyss and talked about the unfairness of how the Dahri were treated despite their efforts to help in Sumeru (if I'm not mistaken) and he's also a descendant of Hadura, a Khaenri'ahn Schwanenritter. If we follow the same principle as before, it is safe to assume that Hadura was a pure-blood as otherwise he would've turned into a hilichurl as soon as he left Khaenri'ah and the curse of wilderness would've affected Klingsor too. Jakob and René sought a manner of transcendance in order to survive the coming calamity René foresaw judging by the documents left in Sumeru and then Jakob's appearance as an Iniquitous Baptist, thus it wouldn't be far-fetched to think that it was the same for René before he turned into Narzissenkreuz. Lastly, if my hypothesis that willingness to embrace the abyss stands true, it'd fall right in place for other Khaenri'ahn survivors that were pure-blood to become this kind of monsters, as various texts and Chlothar's description of the Khaenri'ahn society depict a certain fanaticism towards the abyss. Nevertheless, it is also important to say that there is no need to be a Khaenri'ahn, a pure-blood one in order to become one of these monsters.

Then there is the fiends we know as the Black Serpent Knights. As I mentioned before, I firmly believe that the curse of wilderness is interwoven with the abyss someway, and so the same applies to me with the curse of immortality. By following the aforementioned theory, first they should be pure-blood Khaenri'ahns (unlike the other kind of monsters where this isn't a requisite, not even being a Khaenri'ahn to begin with, it's highly relevant here because these knights have an identity and they act upon what little remains of them of their identity, which is their duty as Black Serpent Knights or Schwanenritter) and second, there should be something else that isn't a willingness to embrace the abyss. From a myriad of examples, we know that even higher entities such as gods or dragons are susceptible to corruption (Orobashi for one if we think about the Tatarigami and the nasty voices one of the villagers hears, Dvalin, Boreas was an objective of the Abyss Order although he resisted), and as we saw previously, there are those who can become monsters (or perhaps transcendent ones). If we take Ynghildr as an example since you mentioned her, what we know of her is that she was a Schwanenritter who went to fight abyssal monsters and disappeared. But we know that she returned to her post within one of the golems as a monster version of the Black Serpent Knights we know. We also know of Dain (I'll get deeper into him briefly), whose body was half corrupted during the Cataclysm and that he, too, was fighting the abyssal monsters that attacked Sumeru. The one thing both of them have in common here is the exposure to the abyss, or perhaps to corruption. From Dvalin's case, we know that it suffices to have negative feelings and allow them to magnify in order to fall to corruption. If we're to talk about Halfdan directly, we have one thing that is clearer than others which is the fact that he was exposed to the defilement from the Chasm; another reason that can add to his corruption is that he had those negative feelings of himself for failing the people of Khaenri'ah and Dain for being unable to protect them, which could've festered further and possibly added to the corruption. We also have erosion (which personally, I think it's another manner of corruption or that, as the aforementioned curses, they're interwoven with this defilement) that may have added to him eventually lose a great part of his sense of self, self-awareness and turn into a monster. As Dain mentions of him, despite being a monster he's a special case because the level of self-awareness he had was considerably higher than the rest's.

To touch briefly onto Dain, and based on what I mentioned up until now, I think that he would sooner turn into a Black Serpent Knight-kind of monster than the former. He fought all these 500 years of being corrupted against it, which adds to my belief that there has to be a requirement of willingness in order to turn into the kind of monsters that are in the Abyss Order unless to some point he goes bananas and from an abyss-hater he turns into an abyss-lover. In regards of the ring, I can't tell how relevant or irrelevant it is. I'm aware of the theories about that being the ring of Nibelung, that it may have to do with the fact that he didn't get corrupted entirely (not without reason, as Ynghildr also had a signet and was lost— but I don't have enough evidence to think that a ring or set or rings ward the defilement from the wearer), but for now I'm keeping it shelved until we learn more about it. I also know that Dain says that Halfdan was able to retain some degree of self-awareness against all odds without some "it", but we also don't know if it's a ring or something entirely different.

So to summarize all of this testament: Yes, I believe that Halfdan is a pure-blood Khaenri'ahn even if he eventually turned into a monster. Nevertheless, this fate he met I think it's unrelated to the curse of immortality he has (unrelated as a direct thing, because indirectly he did turn into a monster because of it— if he didn't become "immortal", he wouldn't have lived long enough to become a monster and he clearly wasn't siding the Abyss Order, which may give us some insight of what his mentality was like in the peaceful days of Khaenri'ah: someone who didn't fall into the trend of abyss fanaticism many in the society seemed to have).

[levi-supreme]

You and CEO!Levi in 81

Anon please, are you living in my mind??? I have such a w e a k spot for CEO Levi or Levi in a suit and tie omg. Also, is this my first time writing something angsty?????

Characters: Levi x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW, slight angst. Power imbalance (Levi is reader's superior). Reader insert (y/n). I cannot write angst so I'm sorry.

81: Kisses in which, ''we just broke up, but let's kiss one last time''

"Let's stop seeing each other." Levi spoke without looking at you. Eyes trained on the computer screen, Levi continued replying to his long chain of email.

"Give me a good reason, Levi. Also, 'because I'm your boss' is not the reason I want to hear." Silence followed your sentence as Levi ignored you, now signing a few documents piling on his desk. You walked over to his side, leaning forward to get his attention. "Levi, I'm talking to you."

"I expect you to address me correctly, we are at work." You clenched your fists in anger, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes.

"Yes, Mr Ackerman. Since you're so busy, we'll talk when you're free then." You turned and left Levi's office with a pang in your chest. Shutting the heavy wooden door of Levi's office, you sunk down to your knees, clutching them as you cried. No one would hear you anyway, since Levi — no, Mr Ackerman's office was the only room on the top floor of the building. You knew nothing good would come out from dating a workoholic like Levi, you should have expected this to happen. Even so, why does your heart still ache when you knew this relationship would eventually come to an end?

"Oi, y/n," the wooden door opened and you jumped in surprise. Hastily wiping your tears, Levi's expression softened when he saw how red your eyes were. He pulled you back into his office and poured you a cup of tea.

"You knew this day would come, right?" Levi spoke up when you visibly calmed down. He placed his hand on yours, gently carassing your knuckles. "This relationship was doomed to fail. I cannot be the man you want, and I cannot give you the happiness you deserve." The tears you tried to hold back started falling without control.

You spent more days quarrelling with Levi than to actually go out on dates. You saw Levi at work more often than out. The lines between a superior and his secretary became blur, and you knew it would take you forever to recover from this.

"Even though we cannot be lovers, but we can still remain as friends." Levi patted your hand as he stood up, pulling you up with him. You wiped your tears with your free hand, unable to meet Levi's eye.

"Can I ask for a favour?" You meekly asked. Levi nodded.

"I know we've just broken up, but can I... kiss you for the last time?" Levi sighed and took a step closer. Placing his hand on your cheek, Levi kissed you so softly as though any more strength that he used would break you apart. You closed your eyes, trying your best to engrave the feeling of Levi's lips on yours into your memory. The last kiss you two shared was soft and simple. It contained the emotions and feelings you were unable to put into words. You felt a tear escape your eye as Levi broke the kiss, his palm stroking your cheek. You bit your lip and tried to put on a smile. Patting Levi's hand, you turned and walked towards the large wooden door.

"Goodbye, Levi."

Thirsty Thursday: A 100 Different Kisses

[mindofasupernova]

Someone you loved

Kaz Brekker x reader

Mr. Sandman Part 2

Inspired by the song "Someone you loved" by Lewis Capaldi

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

Kaz's mind was a raging storm, an ever-shifting landscape. His heart was madly racing and he feared that if it didn't stop soon, it'll burst out of his chest.

Two days had gone by and yet there was no information about Y/N's whereabouts. No one had made an effort to contact him asking for money in exchange for her safety, no blackmail, nothing. Kaz knew the probability of Y/N being alive was shrinking as the days passed.

Kaz felt terrible, guilt crushed his heart in a vicious grip. If he hadn't kicked her out, if he had taken back his words, if he had just... No, thinking about what ifs wouldn't bring Y/N back home. If she's still alive a cruel voice whispered in the back of his mind.

His mind drifted to his darkest memories, horrible images plagued his mind. Rotting flesh beneath his fingers, icy hands grabbing at him, threatening to pull him under the waves. Water filled his lungs, consuming his oxygen and living him in the dark. His head broke the water, gasping for air, Kaz looked around, trying to find something, anything to grab to avoid drowning. Only that now instead of his brother's corpse, he saw Y/N's limp body floating above the water.

Kaz fell to his knees, the pain brought him back to reality. He was trembling, sharp gasps left his body, black dots covered his vision. Y/N would have told him to focus on reality, take in the details, count every little object he could find in the room. But Y/N wasn't here, and it was all his fault.

___________

I need somebody to heal, somebody to know

Somebody to have, somebody to hold

Y/N talked passionately about her latest read, making wild gestures with her hands as if to prove a point. Jesper's arm was slung across her shoulder, head thrown back in a laughing fit. When his cackles died down, Jesper leaned his head on Y/N's shoulder and started mocking her for being able to remember the exact place where phrases were in the book.

Kaz watched silently from his seat in the Crow Club, he knew those touches were purely friendly gestures, and still he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

On many sleepless nights, Kaz thoughts had wandered down a treacherous path, always finding their way to Y/N. His mind had been invaded by images of her: the smile she always wore when she was about to make a witty comment, the way she pursed her lips whenever he asked her to memorize an important document, the furrow of her brows when paying close attention to Kaz's plans.

He snapped out of it, angry at himself for thinking about her, he couldn't afford those thoughts. Kaz's life was dangerous and he had many enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use anything or anyone against him. If he left himself feel, if he let her in, he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

He had tried. He had tried to distance himself, push her away until his feelings dissipated to nothing. However, every time Y/N appeared in his office late at night just to talk about her day, every time she called his name, every time she sent a glorious smile his way, Kaz couldn't bring himself to say no.

And now, looking at Y/N from across the room, a sense of longing clouded his vision. Thoughts of sitting next to her, no space between their bodies, with no fear of touching reminded him of how miserably he had failed.

____________

It's easy to say, but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

Since Y/N's kidnapping, Kaz had gone completely feral. He had looked for anyone who could provide information. He had kidnapped, tortured, and even killed members of any other gangs he had his suspicions on. He was unstoppable, he wouldn't rest until his Y/N was safe. She isn't even yours because you kicked her out a scornful voice reminded him.

Kaz's whole body hurt, his limp was more prominent than usual, his knuckles were bloodied and a purplish bruise contrasted against his pale skin from a blow he had taken when he was beating the life out of one of the Dime Lion's informants.

How he wished Y/N was there. No matter how many times he came back to the Slat, covered in blood and clutching at his wounds, Y/N's gaze always turned into one of horrified worry.

Y/N had always healed his wounds after a mission, wiping the blood away very carefully in order not to touch his skin. Even when he wasn't bleeding and it was just his leg giving him a bad day or a headache that refused to leave him, Y/N always brought him medicine or tea depending on the situation.

But Y/N was gone and he might not ever see her again. His thoughts lurched him back to the ocean, dead things suffocated him. He clutched his cane tighter, he couldn't have a panic attack now, he needed to find Y/N.

_______

Now the day bleeds into nightfall

And you're not here to get me through it all

The night wrapped the dirty streets of Ketterdam in its wicked hold, the moon loomed ahead casting a palish glow through Kaz's window. Another day had passed and he was no closer to finding Y/N.

He was alone in his office, clutching his cane tighter by the second, its sharp edges bruising his skin, and yet, the pain wasn't enough to keep the waters from rising, Y/N's form surrounded by corpses.

No, he couldn't think of her this way. He had to remain positive, he needed to hope Y/N was still alive somewhere, but for someone like Kaz, remaining positive wasn't something he strived on. Instead, Kaz looked inside his brain, searching for a memory of Y/N to avoid passing out and when he found it, he seized it and hung to it for dear life.

Kaz had heard people say love arrived at the most unexpected times, bloomed in the most unlikely places. People said love wasn't something you chose, something you could control, not a concept you could welcome or shut out of your life at your convenience.

Kaz deemed those people foolish, weak for not being able to control themselves, and as the cold mastermind he was, Kaz brushed off all of their comments. And he would have kept thinking that way if it hadn't been for Y/N during a warm summer evening.

The Crow Club was surprisingly empty, everyone was in a relaxed state, currently resting after a successful heist. Kaz had been working in his office, signing contracts when a soft knock sounded against his door, Y/N peered inside and after receiving Kaz's consent, stepped through the threshold.

Y/N sat in front of his desk, a small smile playing on her face, ensued by a moment of silence, Y/N started talking. Kaz's head perked up at the sound of her voice, eyes leaving the papers to direct his whole attention to her but he had been completely caught off guard by the sight before him.

Y/N's mouth was moving but Kaz's couldn't hear a thing, it was as if someone had stolen the sound so he could only focus on Y/N's heavenly form.

Y/N's hair was slightly disheveled, gusts of wind occasionally brushing lonely strands into different directions, soft locks swishing in compass with a nonexistent melody. Sunset rays filtered through the window, lighting up Y/N's features. Sunlight beams fell gently down the slope of her nose, gently caressed her long lashes, and kissed her tender lips giving them a reddish hue.

At that moment, Kaz realized how dreadfully unjust the world was. How come was the wind able to run his breezy fingers across her beautiful hair? How could the rain brush her skin lovingly without repelling at the idea of skin contact? Why could the Sun kiss her graceful lips and he couldn't?

Kaz wanted to hold her, reach for her whenever he wanted without fear of drowning. He wanted to hug her and nuzzle his nose in her hair affectionately. He wanted to know what her skin felt like under his fingertips. Kaz wanted to know the taste of her lips.

Because he was in love with her.

________

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Y/N laid immobile in his bed, her skin almost as pale as his sheets, soft breaths escaped her lungs. Kaz sat in a chair near her fragile body, his frown deepened every time his eyes landed on a different wound.

Kaz felt like in a déjà vu, a vision that had happened exactly three weeks ago. This was the reason why Kaz had pushed her, why he had evicted her from the Slat, the one home she had ever known. But did it matter? All his efforts to keep her safe had been in vain.

That fateful night, when she had been the distraction in a supposed easy heist, everything had come tumbling down. The nightmares had started back then, where he first saw her all bloodied and beaten and unconscious. They didn't know if she would ever wake up. Kaz had refused to visit her, images of his nine-year-old self seeing her amongst the corpses in the Reaper's Barge haunted his days.

When she had woken up he'd wanted to see her, but he couldn't bring himself to because he knew what he had to do. Kaz couldn't bear the thought of her dying, he couldn't imagine her gone, but if he gave her hope, if she saw how much he cared, she would refuse to leave. He needed her to stay away for her safety

So he had done that, he had ruthlessly yanked his heart out of his chest when he had kicked her out. The words he had said to her tortured him since that day: "Do not think that just because I have kept you around for this long you're irreplaceable." And when he thought he couldn't feel more pain, Y/N had started crying. Silent droplets fell down her cheeks and Kaz felt as if the most savage assassin had ripped his heart into shreds.

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Seating there, silently watching Y/N's closed eyes, he was experiencing it all again. When they had found her she had been tied to a chair, unmoving, in one of the Dime Lion's warehouses. He swore his heart had stopped beating, she couldn't be dead, when Nina had checked for her heartbeat and announced it was still there, Kaz's heart reanimated.

Nina had done her best to heal her and now the only thing there was to do was wait until she woke up. This time Kaz had refused to leave her bedside. This time he would do things differently.

He had been a coward, he now realized. He should have never let her go. He should have been braver, stronger, he should have protected her. Now he realized he wanted, no, needed her with him. He had been too scared worrying for the future that he had forgotten to enjoy the present. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Kaz?"

His head shot back to Y/N. She was awake, she was alive and he would never let her go.

And with such a fervent emotion, he couldn't have thought himself capable of expressing, he said "Please, don't ever leave me again. "

Thanks for the song recommendation @itsemy01

Taglist:

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @lady1505, @rika90, @thedelusionreaderbitch, @coffeewithoutcaffeine, @aleksanderwh0r3, @princessleah129, @subjecta13-thefangirl

[space-mermaid-writing]

House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

~~

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

[whosscruffylooking]

Promotion (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

oh geez...this is my first time ever publishing my writing, especially a reader insert. a little cheat sheet: any time the writing is in bold and is italicized, it’s the readers inner monologue (aka my thought process while writing 🤪)

Warnings: None. Angst? Maybe? And then some fluff at the end.

Words: 1.4k

“Although Freud said happiness is composed of love and work, reality often forces us to choose love or work.” -Letty Cottin Pogrebin

Perhaps it was the speed at which his heel was tapping against the floor of his office, the pale color of his knuckles as his grip tightened around his pen, or the way he anxiously kept running his hands through his hair.

God, I'd love to run my hands through his hair. Now is not the time.

For the past twenty minutes, you've found yourself captivated by your boss's troubled appearance. Aaron Hotchner is notorious for being stoic and virtually unreadable. He once stared down the barrel of George Foyet's gun and boasted that he wasn't afraid of him. But here he was, visibly distraught, and all you want to is run to his aid. That's all you've wanted to do for the past three years that you've been a profiler with the BAU.

In all fairness, Aaron was a very closed-off man. He rarely brought his work home with him and never brought his home life to work. Somehow though, you've managed to break that barrier. Even if only slightly. You'd been there for him in his darkest hours, refusing to let him push you away because you knew that if you'd allowed that, he'd suppress himself to death.

Much to your surprise, he didn't put up much of a fight. Instead, he opened himself and his home up to you. He let himself be vulnerable, and he let you help him explore the dark inner workings of his mind. You did so without trepidation, and slowly, you found yourself falling in love with him. You knew the feelings weren't reciprocated, though. At least, you told yourself that. In some twisted way, you'd reasoned that if you refused to acknowledge that he may feel the same, it would make it easier to deny yourself the ability to love your superior. It's wrong. Unprofessional. It could only end in disaster.

Yet, here you are, timidly knocking on the door to his office. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your hands clammy, your teeth drawing blood from your bottom lip.

"Come in," his husky voice mumbles.

Opening the door, you make your way to the chair across from him at his desk. You cross your legs and anxiously pick at the skin around your nails. He looks up from his paperwork, his bloodshot eyes meeting yours, "Can I help you?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, "I can tell somethings wrong, Hotch. You finished your reports an hour ago, and for the past twenty minutes, you've been staring at the same piece of paper, agonizing over it. I haven't seen you like this since-"

Since the divorce papers.

You shake your head, choosing to gloss over that thought, "Is everything okay?"

Silence pierces the air. A pit forms in your stomach. A glossy haze clouds Aaron's eyes, and a small gasp escapes your lips as you notice it.

"Aaron? Aaron, what's the matter? What's on the paper?"

"It's my letter of recommendation for you. You've been chosen as a candidate for the Counterintelligence Division."

You freeze and stare at him with wide eyes. Unable to gather your thoughts or formulate the right words, or any comments for that matter, you sit in silence with him.

Wait. His eyes were watering. Why would he be tearing up?

He's the Unit Chief; his job is to lead his team and hopefully mentor them into a position where they can advance when fit. In fact, he told you after your first year with the unit that he could see you achieving the goal of progressing to Counterintelligence and eventually to FITF.

Is he not happy for me? Proud of me? Of course, he is. He's always wanted me to succeed. This couldn't possibly be because...oh. Me too, Aaron. Me too.

You take a deep breath. Someone has to break the silence...again.

"When would I find out whether or not I got the promotion?"

"First, you would go through a series of interviews and tests before solidifying your position. My recommendation is merely to give my stamp of approval for your transfer."

You let out a stumbled scoff, "Right. You are just giving me your permission to leave. And that's what you want? For me to leave?"

He furrows his brow, "That's not what I meant. You know that."

"Do I, Aaron?"

The honorable and upright team leader reluctantly turns the piece of paper around, pointing out the empty signature line.

"This is what I've been agonizing over. I'm torn y/n because, on the one hand, all I want is for you to live your life with no regrets. To achieve all that you've worked so hard for. And on the other hand, all I want is for you to stay here with me..." he stutters, "With us. The team."

Did SSA Aaron Hotchner just say he wants me to stay with him?

A pink hue paints his cheeks, and you feel yours heat up to match his. You're in disbelief. In one night, it's as if all of the things you've ever wanted have come to fruition, and yet you realize that you can't successfully have them all. Being in Counterintelligence would take you away from your home, your family, the man you're in love with. But if you stay with the BAU, you can only imagine the repression of dating your supervisor; Strauss would not make your life and job easy. You need to make a choice.

Tears sting your eyes, and you can feel your heart yearn for the man sitting across from you.

"Aaron, can I do something wholly unprofessional and beyond all sound reason?"

Aaron narrows his eyes, trying to read exactly what your motives are; his posture straightens as he recognizes your shared longing. He quickly nods and stands up. You mirror his actions and meet him halfway.

Whoa. He's tall. Very tall. And his face is very close to mine.

With bated breath, you gaze into each other's eyes as if asking for permission one last time. It's now or never. As if in complete synchronization, you both lean into one another, claiming each other's lips. He gasps softly, earning a slight chuckle from you. Your entire body tingles, and his hands find their way around your waist, squeezing your hips softy.

He's good at this. Too good. I'm not complaining though.

It's as if his lips are a paintbrush and yours are his canvas. You should pull away, but you're being held captive by his touch. It's as if you both have been starved for year's and your hunger is finally being satisfied. Nothing could taint this moment.

Except...lungs. Stupid, lungs gasping for air.

Forced to separate yourself from him, you touch your forehead to his, determined not to break all contact.

His smile glistens as a small laugh escapes his lips, "You have terrible timing. I had finally convinced myself to sign the document."

You adamantly shake your head, "No. No, I don't want you to sign it. I want to stay. Stay here with the team. I want to stay here with you."

He clears his throat, his voice hoarse, "This job opportunity is too good to pass up y/n."

"No, Aaron Hotchner, you are too good to pass up," you say, pressing your palms to his chest and peering into his beautiful chestnut eyes.

"Well then," he pushes a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, "Looks like I get to boss you around for a little while longer." A devilish smirk spreads across his face.

"Not too fast. I do have an idea of something else you could sign for me."

"And what's that?"

"A check for a raise?"

A hearty laugh echoes from his chest through his office, "I'm gonna kiss you again instead."

"Oh yeah?" You smile, lacing your fingers around his neck.

"Oh yeah." He encloses his lips on yours once more.

It's in that moment when his scent is filling your lungs, his touch imprinting on your skin, and his lips leaving you addicted and craving more that you realize you made the right choice.

No job or promotion could ever give you the feeling you have right now in Aaron's arms. You have never felt more alive than you do exploring your love for Aaron. The best promotion is going from being on the outside of his life to being the one that fills his heart.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 3

Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.

And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.

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Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!

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For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 5.358

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.

You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.

Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.

Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'

Great.

So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.

You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.

Maybe you could read for a bit.

You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.

As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.

You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.

Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.

As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.

You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.

Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.

You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.

"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."

Annoyance had now replaced your fear.

John Walker.

You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.

This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.

You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.

Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.

You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.

Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.

"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.

You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.

"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.

You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.

"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.

You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.

"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.

"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.

"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.

"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.

You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.

"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.

His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.

You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.

"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.

You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.

"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.

"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.

You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.

"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.

The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.

"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.

You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.

Well, at least now you could breathe.

Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"

You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.

"No," you answered.

The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.

He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."

Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.

Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."

Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."

Hoskins didn't have a response to that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.

Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.

Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.

You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.

The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.

"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.

You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.

"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.

As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.

You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.

"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.

Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.

Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.

"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.

"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.

"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.

The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.

Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.

"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.

But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.

"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.

With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.

Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one of his wrists to prevent him from moving your arm any further.

"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.

Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.

"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.

The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.

"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.

"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."

Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.

"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.

You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.

"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.

Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.

You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.

"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.

"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.

"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.

Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.

Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.

Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.

You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.

Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.

"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.

Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.

You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.

"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.

You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.

You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.

You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"

He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"

"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.

None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.

Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.

Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.

You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.

Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.

"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.

"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.

"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.

"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.

"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.

"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.

"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.

"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.

"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.

Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.

James leaned over on the counter to make sure you were 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.

You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.

As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly felt his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.

"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.

You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.

In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.

Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.

You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.

Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.

If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.

You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.

He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.

Distraction.

You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.

He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.

If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.

Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.

"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.

You shook your head, indicating you didn't.

All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.

Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."

You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.

His expression sobered rather quickly though and became pensive after that, staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.

"You keep it. It looks better on you."

Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.

Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.

"Wait," you murmured.

The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.

"Stay."

You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing the potential double meaning.

"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.

Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.

Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.

You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.

He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.

With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[ybangtannies]

Hiiii I am new t the whole requesting thing so first for everything 🥰 So, here it goes A scenario for yandere namjoon where there’s lawyer y/n who’s hardworking and mature x businessman namjoon who is corrupt in his business ways 👉👈 I dunno if this is okay 🤡

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

“I don’t get it, why don’t we just throw them off and stop having them as our clients? This could end so bad for us, the whole law firm could be affected by their- his antics.”

“We have already talked about this,” your friend sighed not sparing you a look, eyes focused on her phone, “yes, it’s a well-known secret that Mr. Kim’s business is corrupt, and he surely doesn’t make the most legal negotiations but,” now she did look at you, her brown eyes showing the tiredness of having to have this conversation with you, again, “we don’t really have the liberty of saying no to him. A lot of tabloids would be up in no time if we decided to stop representing them which would lead to him surely making declarations against us and that wouldn’t surely end up being beneficial for us. We’re already a small firm, Mr. Kim being our client is a huge deal, most of our - including yours- income comes from his business.”

You sighed, about to reply that yes, you understand her point but maybe if you made public those documents that prove his corrupt ways, the whole scene could be different for the firm and you’d be able to turn the tables, but she beat you and added, “plus, he’s a whole snack, girl, why are you even complaining?”

Not even bothering to answer, you rolled your eyes and let out a groan, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your office. On your way there, you saw your boss, “Good morning, y/n,” he said with a smile, “please remember that Mr. Kim is coming later to discuss some things with you.”

The smile you previously had on your face faltered a little, surely you decided it was better to erase that from your mind and was hoping -in vain- that another thing would have come up so Namjoon couldn’t make it to the meeting. “Of course, Mr. Min, I already have prepared the files he asked me about and possible solutions.”

“Good, it’s wonderful to see how hard you work, y/n. Keep it like that, and you’ll make it big.” With that and another polite smile, Mr. Min walked away from you.

You sighed heavily and finally arrived at your office. It seems that these days the only thing you do is sigh and feel frustrated. Of course, you knew that being a lawyer in a firm meant that you won’t always be working for people you like but you didn’t think that it would entail working with a corrupt businessman without any chance of exposing him or just putting a halt to your contract with him. You knew the risks of doing that, of course, and that it would most likely mean you being fired alongside all your co-workers and put on a blacklist for all the other law firms to know that you weren’t trustworthy. However, that didn’t shake the guiltiness and rage you felt when thinking about how hard you have worked all your life to get where you are now just to risk it all for an asshole that was incompetent enough to do dangerous deals with people he shouldn’t.

You were wrong, though, Namjoon wasn’t an incompetent, quite the contrary actually. He was a very clever man indeed, knowing that having a law firm by his side would most likely help him cover his back in case something was to happen, especially if said firm is small and he is the main source of income.

“Mr. Kim is here” said the receptionist through the phone.

“Okay, send him up here.”

You collected your thoughts and breathed deep, praying you won’t snap at him like it had happened some other times before. It wasn’t just that you didn’t like the way he was managing his company but his personality and overall aura… you didn’t like it, not one bit. No matter how handsome and attractive he was.

A knock was heard in your office, followed by a voice “It’s Kim Namjoon, Mrs. y/s, may I come in?”

You arched your brow looking at him through the glass windows your office had, seeing his dimples showing because of the smile he had on his face.

“You may, Mr. Kim” you spoke in a monotonous voice, focusing again on the screen of your computer.

Namjoon’s smile turned to be more amused seeing your reaction, the one as always: trying your best not to look at him. He opened the door and walked in, closing it after him and taking a seat in a chair in front of your desk, not waiting for you to ask him to do it. You probably wouldn’t, anyways.

Of course, he knew the animosity you felt towards him and while at first that made him a little miserable and he almost lost his mind, with time he started finding it more amusing than anything and viewed it as a challenge to finally get on your good side. Naturally, the desire of taking you with him to keep you in his house was always at the back of his mind and he knew that sooner or later he would have to resort to that if he wanted you to be finally his, which of course he did. Until that moment, though, he would enjoy you being feisty towards him, it was amusing and kind of endearing seeing you struggling and fighting against yourself to not give in.

“How are you feeling on this beautiful day, Mrs. y/s?” Namjoon asked with a grin, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s actually interested in your answer.

He’s so hot, y/n! And the fact that he’s going against the law and with your help at that, only succeeds at making the situation even hotter.

That’s the message your friend sent you merely minutes ago, probably when she saw Namjoon was on his way to your office. Message you, of course, decided to ignore.

“It’s been good so far but I’m afraid that a big black cloud has just appeared to ruin it” you answered with a fake smile and felt pride at seeing how his smile faltered. You almost felt bad if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a criminal.

Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly ready to say one of the numerous flirty lines he’s been trying to use on you since the very beginning, but you were faster than him and asked about what it was that he needed help with this time.

“Ah, you see, there’s this huge deal I’m about to sign in two days so I thought that it would be a good idea for us both to go through the contract together and also, I wanted you to redact a confidential agreement.” You hated the way in which he said it, like if everything were okay, as if it was just a normal deal and there was nothing fishy about it. You also hated knowing that he could very much do this with his own men -it wouldn’t be the first time- but still decided to come here to torment you.

That was how time passed: you both going through the contract, making sure everything was in order -or as in order as it could considering there were definitely some fishy things that needed to be disguised or be described in a very vaguely-, you trying to dodge every attempt from Namjoon part at flirting with you and him finding it both amusing and adorable.

You danced in your interior once everything was done and it was finally time for him to leave, looking into your watch you realised it was almost time for you to go home as well and mentally sighed in relief. You got over another day.

“If that was all, Mr. Kim, you’re free to go now,” you said with a tired smile that Namjoon noticed didn’t reach your eyes. He so desperately wanted to make you smile for real, be the one on the receiving end of the cheerfulness he knew you had in you; he’d make sure he was the only one getting it one day. “I’ll send you the confidential agreement tomorrow before lunchtime so you can go through it in case there is something else that needs to be changed for the day of the signing.”

“Just one more thing, miss” he said, getting up from the chair he occupied for almost two hours in your office, “I think it’ll be better if you came to me with the agreement in person instead of just sending it to me.” Namjoon saw the protest and confusion on your face and before you could give him a negative, he talked again “there had been several attempts these past few weeks at hacking my accounts as well as the one of my other employers so I’d prefer it if the agreement could me better in my hands rather than on my email. We’re working on it, but until I’m sure there would be no possibility for a cyber-attack...an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure”

As much as you wanted to say, ‘fuck no, not in a million years I’m going to see you more than was needed’, you obviously couldn’t, and there was no good reason for you to deny his request.

“Sure, I understand it. I’ll be there tomorrow.” Your answer came more tense than you wanted to, but you wanted Namjoon to know of your discomfort at the premise of having to spend more time with him.

“I’ll send a car for you, darling, there’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

With that and a wink, Namjoon abandoned your office, leaving you there hanging, you wanted to refute that there is no need for him to send a car for you, that you can very happily go on your own and have a car that works very well but, of course, he always has to have the last words. You rolled your eyes and groaned, touching the bridge of your nose. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

As Namjoon said, a car was sent your way to the law firm you worked at to take you to his office, or at least that was where you supposed you were going to meet him. But upon seeing the car taking a completely different direction from where it should go, your uneasiness started growing.

“Excuse me,” you called for the attention of the chauffeur, “aren’t we going to Mr. Kim’s office?”

“No, Ms. y/s, I was told to take you to Mr. Kim’s place of residence.”

That fucker, you muttered under your breath. Once you arrived, you couldn’t help but gawk at Namjoon’s place of residence. You were expecting it to be huge and over the top, that’s the kind of house that Namjoon required to have considering the way he carried himself, but this was something else. A whole family could live here, and they wouldn’t even have to see each other if they didn’t want to -and you were referring to a family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and kids.

The chauffeur opened the door of the car for you and was the one leading the way into Namjoon’s mansion as well. The interior was even more dazzling if that was possible: it was decorated in a minimalistic and modern way but there was a hint of old fashioned in some of the furniture. It was exquisite. You were guided all through the mansion until you arrived at the front of two huge mahogany doors, the chauffeur -you felt bad you didn’t ask for his name, he seemed nice- knocked on one of them and from the other side you could hear Namjoon’s voice ordering whoever was at the other side to come in, immediately he opened the door and made you a gesture with his hands for you to go in. You nodded your head and muttered a ‘thank you’ before entering the room. The door closed right behind you.

Namjoon looked up from his computer and a smile quickly found its way to his face upon seeing you right there in the middle of his office. He got up from his chair and moved around his massive table. “Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you, please come and take a seat,” you did as tell and came near him, smiling slightly when Namjoon moved the chair so you could sit, “I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you with coming all the way here, some problems came up this morning and I wasn’t able to make it to my building.”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Kim?” You asked more out of courtesy than because you were actually concerned or interested in what his answer would be.

“Nothing you have to worry about, darling,” the paternalistic tone he used made you almost roll your eyes even if you were secretly grateful, he didn’t bother you with the problems of his corrupt business, “since it’s almost lunchtime, I asked my service to bring us the meal here later so we can eat together.”

“There was no need for that, Mr. Kim, I won’t be here much, you’re just required to go through the agreement and then I’ll be on my way to work again.”

Namjoon only hummed and went back to his chair in front of you. Without any further distractions you both proceeded to went through the document and, right as you stated, it didn’t take much time and since Namjoon didn’t really have any objections, you wrapped it up in no more than an hour but, much to your dismay, by that time the food has already been brought up to his office and you didn’t have it in you to deny it when it looked and smelled as delicious as it did.

“Please, try it,” Namjoon encouraged you, both of you have moved to one of the sofas on his office, and he took advantage of it and was now right next to you, “I didn’t know what you enjoy, so tell me if you don’t like this and I’ll ask for the chefs to make you something different.”

Now, that was a lie, Namjoon already knew everything there was to know about you, having made an exhaustive study of your life himself two days after seeing you for the first time; he knew the name of all your relatives, how many times you’d moved, the college you attended, the marks you got, hell, he even knew the name of all your ex-boyfriends and friends that were no longer in your life. You were fascinating to him, and he couldn't wait until he could uncover every single secret you kept to yourself.

“This looks amazing, I’m sure it’ll taste just the same” you said almost salivating, it’s been a long time since you last ate a proper home cooked meal. You could feel the intense gaze of Namjoon on you while you took the fork on your mouth and swallowed the food, you couldn’t help but make a sound of satisfaction at the taste and it was only in that moment that he averted his eyes from you at the sight, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the wine that was brought alongside the meal. “This is amazing! Thank you so much, Namjoon.”

You didn’t even notice you called him by his name or the real smile that was on your face and directed at him. But he did, and he could feel his heart galloping in his chest like crazy, feeling already addicted to hearing his name rolling on your tone without an annoyed tone to it and being on the receiving end of your more than beautiful smile.

You both kept eating and eventually started talking about everything and anything. It surprised you how you found yourself having a good time and enjoying Namjoon’s company more than what you thought you’d ever do. He was still an asshole in your eyes, and you didn’t like not one bit the way he made business, but you couldn’t deny that he gave you an interesting conversation and was funny even when he wasn’t trying to. Eventually though, you started to feel more and more dizzy, and a migraine was starting to form in your head.

“Is everything okay, darling? You’re getting paler by the second” you heard Namjoon voiced next to you, he sounded concerned and was closer to you than a minute before, one of his hands almost resting on your knee.

“Yeah...no, do you happen to have any pills? My head is starting to kill me…” your voice sounded estranged even to yourself and the strength was quickly leaving your body.

Before you could try to fight it, darkness consumed your every sense and the last thing you could feel or hear was Namjoon’s body pressed against yours and his smooth voice calling your name.

After twenty minutes or so, Namjoon finally decided that it was time to lead you to his room and rest your body on his bed. He’s been admiring your face, being this the first time, he has had the chance to do it from such a close distance, delighting himself in how perfect your body felt pressed to his and how from this day on, he’d be able to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He closed the door from his bedroom and locked it just in case, though he doubted you’ll wake up until tomorrow. On his way to the door, he made a call.

“What’s up, Namjoon?”

“I’m going there now, Yoongi. She’s already in my bed resting.”

Nothing more needed to be exchanged between the two men and Namjoon hung up right when he got into his car. Yoongi and Namjoon have been friends since they were both teenagers, having gone through a lot together. When Namjoon received an email with several photos of you he hadn’t order to take and a simple message saying, ‘we are keeping an eye on her too’, he knew he had to do something to keep you safe and it was actually Yoongi’s idea to lead you to Namjoon’s house, drug you and keep you there finally with him. They still had to figure out who the fuck had guessed Namjoon favoured you, but now that you were going to be safe by his side, he couldn’t help but smile silly all the way up to Yoongi’s building.

He knew he had a long way ahead of him until you fell in love with the same intensity, he had fallen for you, but he was sure you’d both get there and be the perfect couple he’d been dreaming of for so long.

[shadyteacup]

I am a major Fyodor simp... so can I request some fyo fic?

Honestly, anything Fyodor..

I LOVE YOUR WORK!

Have a good day!

You shall ask, n I shall deliver.. Here's some Fyodor angst! Hope u like it💕

My Favorite Poison

Fyodor x GN! Reader

TW: angst, and death... also manipulation and immense God complex...

Enjoy mi amor :)

You and fyodor loved each other. You were the perfect couple. He was a tall, handsome, lanky man, and you complemented him perfectly. Both of you couldn't be happier with your lives right now.

So why did your smile never reach your eyes when you talked to him? Why did his expression look more commanding than loving? Why did he never leave any important documents near you? Why do you never kiss him like you used to?

Why does being with him feel like a burden?

It's simple, really. You both had met a few years ago and fallen in love with each other.

What you both didn't realize at the time, was just how cunning and dangerously manipulative the other was.

You both were probably attracted to each other because of how similar you both were. Both of you had a God complex. Only now do you realize, that you two were powerful, headstrong gods, with opposite views of the world.

You believed in a clean world, devoid of evil. So did he. But in your eyes, he was evil too. Anyone who disturbs the serenity of the world is evil. It was all about balance for you. You believed in equal amount of good and bad. And that's how the world is. It is a lot of bad mixed with a lot of good, making it neither, as a whole. Anyone who tampers with this balance, is a criminal.

You, being the all knowing, were the only one exempted from this rule. For you created some ruckus, and watched how the world reacted. It was amusing for you. The way the mortals scrambled to keep up with pretenses, and killed to maintain decorum. The irony was humorous. It was your way of testing your people. Throwing them under the bus, and observing just how far they would go to survive.

Fyodor wasn't the same. His methods were all aimed towards changing the way of the world. He was aiming to break this cycle of good and bad, and believed that he could make all the bad go away. How foolish of him.

If you two ever decide to come to a middle ground, and work together, you could achieve great things.

But both of you couldn't accept another God, one who is equal to yourselves. For each of you, there existed only one God, and that was your own self. Neither of you could tolerate the presence of the other. But instead of discussing this issue, you both decided to play games. Both of you, being super manipulative, created a fake world, wherein both of you were an ideal couple, loving one another, caring for each other, sipping wine and having lively conversations. You two were living the 'perfect life of a perfect couple'.

Currently, you were seated at the large marble table of your spacious living room. You were clad in expensive attire, and seated opposite to you, Fyodor adorned a fancy suit. You two were celebrating your third anniversary. What a better way to celebrate it, than over a vast variety of mouthwatering multi cuisine spread and the finest red wine?

Your silk gloves shone in the pretty lighting of the chandelier lit hall. Fyodor looked dashing in his black suit, and the color of his tie perfectly matched the violet of his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you would have fallen for him.

But you did know better.

So you flashed a dazzlingly fake grin at the man seated opposite to you.

"What a lovely evening."

He mocked your expression, and held your hand in his, two gloved hands uniting atop the wide table.

"It indeed is, my beloved. "

Soft violins played in the background, as you both began your celebratory meal.

You stare at him as you sipped the red liquid. Observing his looks, almost as if you were memorizing his features. Oddly enough, he was doing the same.

"You look really beautiful today, my dear."

Fyodor says as he cuts himself a piece of the syrniki, dipping it in the blueberry jam that you had specially prepared for him.

You felt happy, in that moment. Your hatred for him remained constant and clear.

He observed your face, noticing the raw, elegant beauty it held. He remembers the times he spent spent with you over the last three years. Those days were truly splendid. So why did it go wrong? Why did you both hate each other? Why are you both so close, yet so far?

You and him were perfect, until you realized his point of view towards life. You believed that people born with abilities are gifted individuals. He considers them to be a curse. Abilities are immensely unfair. He wanted to rid the world of its unfairness. You, on the other hand, saw beauty in imperfection. You despised evil. Evil, in your terms, was something that changes the frangible balance of good and bad in this world. You believed in karma, and enjoyed watching from your throne as it righted all wrongs.

Fyodor was set on changing the dynamics of this impure world. You couldn't let that happen. You enjoyed it the way it was.

He knows that if he wants to be successful in cleansing the world, he would have to let you go. But you were stubborn. You wouldn't leave without changing his mind and manipulating him to give up on his aim. Besides, you had seen and heard way too much. He couldn't just let you walk away.

He noticed how you kept sipping the wine, and didn't touch the food.

That works for him.

He tries to hide his grin. Yes, the good times he had with you were lovely. He honestly hadn't felt like that with anyone before. He had fallen in love with you. But, alas, all good things must come to an end.

You felt lightheaded, and dizzy. You wondered if it was happiness, or something else entirely.

Your eyes widened as you realized just what you were drinking. You had just sipped your own demise.

The peculiar smell, the slightly sour taste.. you wondered how you missed the tell tale signs of being poisoned.

Fyodor chuckled at your shocked expression.

"It was fun, Krasotka. The times we shared were very genuine."

He cuts another piece of his syrniki, relishing the taste.

It's a pity. He thought. Nobody can make these as well as you do. It's a pity he won't be able to enjoy them anymore.

You start laughing maniacally.

'Ofcourse,' , you thought,' afterall, the two of us are the exact same.'

"So this is goodbye, I suppose." You say as you grip the table to prevent falling prey to the weakness spreading throughout your body.

"Why, yes. I-"

Fyodor was interrupted by a series of coughs. His breathing became irregular, and he was coughing up blood, staining the pearly white silk napkin with a crimson hue.

Fyodor gapes at your laughing form.

'The syrniki', he thought.

"We are but the same darling.", you say as you caress his paling cheek with your fingers.

The reason for your giddiness became clear to him now. You wanted him gone. He wondered why he didn't catch on to the subtle hints. The peculiar smell, the slightly metallic taste, it all points to being poisoned. Now he understood why you had made his favourite dish in the first place. It was all to lure him to bite into his last meal.

He stares at your beautiful eyes. Eyes that once held pure unadulterated love for him. But now,they were filled with malice and hatred. Oh, how cunning you were. As he observed the evil glint in your eyes, he fell for you all over again. He loves your dark side. Now that he was on the verge of death, his goals, ambitions, nothing really mattered. In this moment of truth, he was able to genuinely appreciate your evil genius. The mysterious new plant in your garden, one that looked so much like an innocent garden plant, was one of your deadly creations. You really were a smart person. Always tinkering with life, in all forms. Your array of poisonous creations were memorised by him. This one was new. You had discovered another poisonous plant species, and grown it specially for this occasion. How truly romantic of you.

"I love you." ,he says as he stares at his one true love, his savior, and his angel, who would carry him to his death.

"It's a pity that I don't anymore. ", you say, leaning closer to him.

"Happy anniversary, love.", you whisper.

Both your faces meet halfway in one last kiss.

Check me out on wattpad

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Golden II (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hello. This is the second part of the Kakashi amnesia fic. I was so conflicted on what to do in this one and admittedly, I am not satisfied with this. Not completely. I really struggle writing the second part of a trio, and it's evident here.

Part three is up!

Word count: 4200

_______

Kakashi struggled to maintain his normal persona after Y/N got into the incident. He just couldn’t shake off that desperate need to be around her. At this point, it was just instinctual to look for her in the crowds, and expect to see her waiting for him each time he got home from a mission. He missed her laugh and her smile, and the people in the village did not help.

His only solace was on missions where he could forget about it all. It was an impossible struggle, especially when everyone and their mother was consoling him every time he stepped outside to do literally anything. He didn’t want people in his business, especially something so sensitive. 

The mornings were now cold and depressing. Each time he rolled over in an attempt to throw his arm around his girlfriend, he was only met with the hollow space where she used to be. He would bury his face in his pillows and shut his eyes, just trying to drown out her voice from his mind. But her scent still lingered on his linens and buried deep into the pillows. 

He imagined her groggy eyes opening just a peek to see if he was awake before her, and he usually was. She would smile and scoot close to his body, curling up and hugging him around the waist, her head resting against his chest. He missed wrapping her up in a cuddly hug, peppering the top of her head with kisses. 

He missed going to get breakfast with her, and her ranting to him about this new novel the store had in shipment, comparing the plot to that of other books she had read and gushing over the character development or the vocabulary or a plot twist she'd never seen. She was always such a nerd, it was adorable.

And he missed meeting up with her each night as she closed the store, her hugging him so tight he could feel her heart beating against his. She'd attack his face with kisses and giggles, pulling down his mask in between the bookshelves where no one could see and gracing his lips with a kiss, or a dozen, depending on the day. 

He just missed her. But he knew it was for the best-not knowing her anymore, not getting attached all over again, or letting her get close to him again. He thought of her amnesia as a fresh start, a way to break up with her without crushing her emotionally. She would never know what she was missing.

He would be the only one suffering, and that was better to him than the other way around.

For Kakashi, it was always hard to imagine he would get to a place in life where he felt comfortable enough with someone to maintain such a relationship. He didn’t think he would grow to have these moments with someone he loved. He worked through so many walls he had built up over the years, fought against all his paranoia and superstitions, and for what? To feel his heart break?

He felt betrayed, by whom, he had no idea. He just felt like the stars had aligned perfectly in favor of screwing him over the moment he was comfortable, the moment someone was able to squeeze into his heart and share their love. It would take time to get over his feelings for her, he knew that. The memories would always linger, but they wouldn’t cut through him like they did now.

For now, the only thing he could do was lie in his bed until his next mission the following day. Without her, he didn’t see any reason to get out of bed anyway.

______

Y/N returned to her apartment after being discharged from the hospital, and did as she was instructed to do. Each day she would look through her belongings, pictures, trinkets, anything that had emotional value, hoping it would bring out some of her old memories. Nothing really changed. Sometimes she could see flashes of people in her head that lived in the village. Kakashi, that guy in the green suit, Yamato, the sweet girl that took care of her all her days in the hospital. All of them appeared in her mind at one point or another,  but nothing strong enough to give her any knowledge.

Tsunade told her to just keep trying and hopefully, something would fix itself. It seemed like a shot in the dark, but anything was worth a try.

It wasn’t until a few hours into the cleaning process, scrapping blood and ink out of carpets and stocking her shelves of the store, that she found something of real importance. Deep in the back of her front counter, hidden in a drawer, sat a small shoebox, filled with stacks of papers.

At first, she assumed they were probably just old receipts, but that was not the case.

Inside she found many things. Photos, notes, letters, and little trinkets all stacked carefully in the box like her previous self took extra special care of them. For this reason, she took the box to the table to sit down and go through everything one by one. Anything was worth a try, and maybe this would propel her recovery in motion..

First she examined the letters. They were very short, but full of information about her past self, and she found herself more intrigued and surprised with every word. Each one was from Kakashi, she noted that immediately. Out of all people, she could not imagine that man sitting and writing out anything nice or thoughtful to her. 

But she was wrong.

They stated things about how he was on missions and wouldn't be back for a month or so at a time. He often stated how badly he wished to come back home and visit her bookstore again. How he was sorry for being gone so long that he couldn’t help around the store. 

 The first few, dated as far back as 7 years, were very friendly, nothing out of the ordinary for a correspondence between friends. It still seemed sketchy to her that Kakashi took time out of his day to send her letters, but not unbelievable.  It wasn’t until they progressed right in front of her eyes that she was taking in every word with awe.

They detailed how much he missed seeing her face, which he often described as beautiful and precious. She was his motivator that kept him going each morning and through the long nights, he said. The man proclaimed his love over and over in the letters starting four years ago until the very last which was from a few months ago. He was never very descriptive or detailed, but he got across what needed to be said and what was on his mind very effectively.

She had no idea Kakashi felt that way about her. He really didn't act like they had any relationship at all. He actually spent most days avoiding her at all costs. Of course, she would see him walking down the street, and wave through the glass panels of her bookstore, not that he ever cared. He would usually take one look over at her, and then walk faster in the opposite direction. 

To say her first impression of him was a bit off putting was an understatement. Where other people like Yamato treated her with kindness and humility, he seemed to think he was too good to try and reconnect. Although, he was certainly a handsome man and very courageous. She could vaguely see why her old self was at least physically attracted to him. Even if he wasn’t acting the nicest now, the letters led her to believe he was possibly a hopeless romantic.

She scanned through the other things in the box. The photos were ones of her with all her friends, but the majority were just Kakashi. The first few photos, the oldest, with the most damage around the frayed edges, were of them when they were much younger. He didn't have on the jounin vest he wore, and she had such a baby face to match a toothy grin. Maybe they were teenagers, 20 somethings? She couldn’t tell for sure.  

The photos were just of them together. Sitting by certain sights or buildings, hugging, eating, on every kind of date you could imagine. It looked like she documented each one. Time stamps on the backs in whatever pen color she had at the time, scribbled details here and there.

It made sense now, why she had a pile of disposable cameras in her room. Dozens of photos of Kakashi, decades of memories all piled up in this box between the pair. It felt surreal, seeing herself in places she couldn’t recognize, in the arms of a man she barely knew.

She must have really loved him before. Their relationship was one of quite a few years from the looks of the things in this box, and obviously she cherished even the little moments. She felt guilt pang in her chest, and her stomach to turn over painfully. How he must have felt when she told him she didn't remember him. How it must feel walking past her in the street and knowing what they had was gone. She couldn't imagine the pain he had to be going through.

And he said that the entire thing was his fault. That day he walked into her hospital room, he apologized for what he did to her, saying that his family was the cause for this, and that he should have come to the store earlier to make sure something like that never happened. He wasn’t a superhero, despite what everyone thought of him. He was merely a man, a shinobi with a love for porn novels and dogs and one girl he desperately wanted to protect. Now that was gone.

Needless to say, she felt awful. It wasn’t her fault for not remembering him, but it sure felt that way.

She set everything back into the box and put it in its place under the counter before flipping the open sign to closed and heading out into the street. She knew where he lived, only because of the return addresses on the envelopes of the letters. She was still quite familiar with Konoha and it's workings, some of the street names hazy but there. She was now determined to make it to his apartment, even if she had to ask everyone in town to help navigate.

If he was on a mission, so be it, but if he was home, she wanted to see the man. 

Thankfully, she realized that he lived only a few streets away from her when a street vendor pointed her in the right direction, but damn,  he lived on the fourth floor and she inwardly cursed him. Her legs were still a bit shaky from the incident, and she hadn't healed completely. Stairs were a pain for her. This entire man seemed like a real pain, honestly.

She finally made it to the fourth floor after hobbling up like an old man, and knocked on the second door. She was going to have a conversation with this man, the same man who was keeping their history a secret this entire time without trying to make a connection again.

No one in this town wanted to explain anything to her. Yamato was nice but he always beat around the bush and left when things started getting informative. Sakura just fawned over her broken limbs and injuries. And the man in the green jumpsuit was too loud, she usually had to kick him out once she felt a headache coming on. Other than that, she didn’t have many friends. They’d told her her family died in a “jinchuriki” attack, whatever that meant, so she didn’t have any family to ask either.

As she waited at the door, she felt her stomach churn. Part of her was genuinely curious how her younger self fell for him and what they were like together. Like, what was the appeal? He seemed kinda strange and distant, and she couldn’t help but want cuddles and love constantly. It seemed like an odd match, and Y/N couldn’t help but question it. 

Opposites attract, I guess.

After a couple seconds, the door opened a crack, and a half dressed man answered the door. She found her face heating up a bit. He wasn’t even exposed in any way, he just wasn’t wearing his headband, nor did he have his jacket on, revealing toned arms and fluffy, messy hair that she had to admit was pretty adorable. Okay, so she could definitely see herself falling for someone so handsome, but regardless, she was on a mission.

He looked startled to see her standing there in all her glory, out of breath and bent over like she’d run the whole way here. She held onto the doorway to balance herself. Perhaps she was just a tiny little bit out of breath from climbing the stairs still. Y/N apologized quickly, “Sorry, give me a second. Going up the stairs is really hard to do and you live on the fourth floor so, yeah.” 

“Who told you where I live?” He questioned, scanning the walkway to make sure no one else was around to be listening. 

“You did, actually,” she answered after taking a deep breath. “I found an old box of letters from you, and I just went to the return address.”

The letters. How could he forget about them? He had tried to rid her place of all signs of him, taking out pictures of the two of them together save for a few with other people included. He took out every single belonging he had. The only thing he missed was the letters, ones he didn’t even know Y/N had kept in the first place. He cursed himself. 

Her reading the letters made him feel violated. Even if the letters were for her, it felt like a stranger had just read some of his deepest and most pathetic thoughts, the ones of love and adoration and depression all piled up in a few letters addressed to a Y/N he used to know.  He felt sick thinking about what this woman now knew. 

“Okay. Well, listen, you really shouldn’t just come to my apartment like this. I’m not fond of drop in visits.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I want, Kakashi Hatake, or should I say, my lover,” she laughed, resting one of her hands on her hip proudly. He felt himself wince at the sound of those words coming from her lips, seeing her childish grin. It reminded him too much of before, how they used to be, and he couldn’t handle that. Suddenly, he felt that familiar sickness rolling in his stomach. “How come you never said anything about it?”

“Because, I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“Why? Obviously you were a very big part of my life and I, yours,” she asked.

He sighed and leant on the doorframe, his eyes never leaving the village over her shoulder, anything other than meeting her eyes. He really did not want to have this conversation with her. He would have talked her ear off about a month before when she actually had her memories and knew who she was, but today, with the way she was, he might as well be speaking to a stranger. 

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“It’s because I was going to leave you after the accident either way” he confessed, and she could only nod. It wasn’t like she was gonna get offended by his words, she didn’t even know him. He continued, “It makes me sick knowing that all this was my fault in the first place.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The reason that man and his lackeys kidnapped you is because of my father’s mistakes,” he sighed, “That bastard wanted to get revenge by hurting you, since you and I were close.”

She nodded, tapping the floor with her foot as she absorbed everything he’d said. That is what he alluded to before when they met in the hospital. She replied calmly, her tone so understanding it made him feel nauseous.“I see. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call that your fault. You definitely didn’t directly cause anything to happen, if anything it was your father. I’m not offended at all.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you think. It doesn’t make this anyone's fault but mine.”

“Really, it’s not your fault. You could have never predicted this,” she tried to say, but he just went on, words flowing out faster than she could argue against them. 

“It doesn’t matter. I knew that it was wrong to let you into my life. You would have lived just as happily if I’d have ignored you and let you meet some son of a baker, get married after a year, have a bunch of kids, shit, I don’t know,” he cursed. She could tell he was breaking down feelings he had been harboring for a while, and she pushed past him into his apartment, walking right under the arm he was resting on. This wasn’t something to talk about in public, out in the open. “I knew that if you were with me that you would never live a normal life, and I still let you fall in love with me, all because I was too selfish to put my own feelings aside.”

“Love shouldn’t be suppressed like that. You did what was natural.”

“Yeah, and look where that got us. Look where that got you, Y/N.” He waved to her bandaged legs. “You’re never going to remember me again, so it doesn’t matter if I rekindle our relationship, does it?”

She took a seat on the edge of his bed to rest her tired legs. He seemed so angry with himself, so much self hate radiating from his person. He was hurting so badly, and she just wished he would let her comfort him. 

For a moment, she wondered if he would let her hold him like before, so he could pretend that things hadn’t gone wrong, even for a short time. Put his mind at ease if only for a short while. Y/N refrained from saying anything, though. Physical touch was probably one of the worst things for him right now, especially from her.

Instead, she meditated on what he said. She sat there fiddling with her fingers, trying to figure out what to say to him, anything that would make the situation easier for him. All she ever wanted was to make life easier for others, and if her way of doing so was being kind and thoughtful toward these worn shinobi, then that is what she would do. 

She leaned back on her hands and let out a soft sigh, words surfacing in her brain that might just do the trick. “Kakashi, do you want to hear something that might bring you hope?”

“Whatever,” he brushed off, not thinking anything she could say would make the situation better. He’d tried for a month to make things better and nothing was working. 

“I’ve been having dreams. Dreams of the past, dreams of memories that I have forgotten. When I look through photos, new images appear of people that I used to know,” she told him softly. “Tsunade says that means I’ll regain my memories with time, it’s just taking a bit longer than we had hoped. She thinks I can get everything back. The girl that you used to know.” 

He stood there for a moment, just processing what she said. He could feel his heart beat a little faster in his chest, and he lifted his eyes slowly to meet her own. She always had such soft, gentle eyes, even now. “Do you have any dreams of me?” He was hesitant to ask, but she gladly nodded. “What do you remember?”

“Well, it’s mostly just snapshots here and there of you and everyone else. Short little tibbits of what life used to be like. I know Yamato has wood nature jutsu because in one of my dreams he had summoned this ginormous tree. I know there is a younger guy with the most yellow hair I’ve ever seen. I know that you have a red eye under the headband, but I don’t know what it’s for,” she explained, listing off some examples of things shehad dreamed of. 

He hummed. “Firstly, you’re right about Yamato. He’s actually the only one alive who can use that jutsu.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Is that why he’s head of the...uh, that group? The ones with the animal masks?” she asked, feeling foolish at her lack of knowledge.

He let out the tiniest of chuckles, just a hint of one. “It’s actually ANBU, but good on you for knowing about them. And it’s not just because of his wood jutsu, he is also a very skilled and strong shinobi. He is a good team leader,” he explained. For a moment, he almost found it fun to listen to her struggle to remember things and then help her out. He noticed the way her nose crinkled when she was thinking especially hard about something, and god, it reminded him of before. He felt his heart thawing with each look her way. 

Kakashi shut his front door and walked over to the other side of his bed. He took a seat against the wall, kicking out his legs. He was beginning to relax. “And about the yellow haired kid? That’s one of my students, Naruto Uzumaki. He’s a handful, but also a very talented, determined shinobi.”

She mouthed the name to herself a couple times, trying to memorize it. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t be too sure. A lot of things sounded like she should remember them, and she couldn’t exactly figure out which were right.

“And your red eye?”

“It’s a long story, and we won’t go into it. Simply put, this eye is called the sharingan. It’s a special dojutsu that only members of the Uchiha clan possess.”

“So you’re part Uchiha?”

“No. That’s the part I’m not gonna get into,” he brushed off her question. That was something that he really did not want to discuss again. He’d already told her the story once, he didn’t need to do it a second time, even if she had amnesia. When he looked over at her, she looked so familiar. Her eyes were filled with happiness, and he noticed that her lips were curled up into a sweet smile. “What are you happy about?”

She shook her head and turned her head to hide the upward curl of her lips. She was just so glad, her whole body felt warmer because of it. “Because you are being nice to me and explaining things. No one really explains things to me, they just skip around stuff usually,” she confessed as she tapped her heels together. 

He could only shake his head at that. “You deserve to know at least the basic stuff, just until you get your memory back.”

“Hmm? You’ll explain any of my memories? Like any of them?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Oh, yeah, well explain this dream I had.”

“Shoot.”

Her smile took a mischievous turn, and he definitely noticed the change. He could only imagine what she was about to ask. “I’ll give you a hint...I know what you look like completely naked,” she giggled, falling back on the bed and covering her face with her hands. 

“And you call me the pervert…” he sighed, crossing his arms behind his neck. Her laugh, it was like music to his ears. No matter what she could say, he was just relieved to feel her beside him, gleaming with a happiness he missed for nearly a month now. 

“I really had a sex dream about you the other night, but you can imagine my confusion. I was like, what the hell, I don’t even know the guy,” Y/N laughed, “It all makes sense now.”

He rolled his eyes at her sense of humor. Things felt so normal, like before. He felt his chest grow warm at the feeling. Kakashi’s  lips cracked into a grin under his mask, not that it mattered to wear the mask. She already saw his face in a dream, it seemed kinda pointless if they were alone. 

Maybe he would let things go back to normal. Maybe he would talk to her more, and let her visit when he was home. Maybe he could go to her store when she waved to him instead of running away like a coward. Maybe he could let himself be happy, despite his faults, despite what happened to her. The wounds could be mended, he decided. 

He just couldn’t help but be selfish and let her back in.

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man. ( Taehyung x Oc)

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst. 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2  ~ Its okay to want something to end and also be sad that its ending. 

With infidelity, its never black and white. 

There’s different kinds of infidelity and you can’t ever say which is worse. That depends entirely on the people involved and the values they hold dear. What may be a small indiscretion to someone, may well be an unforgivable act of betrayal to someone else.

 And that’s fine. People aren’t one dimensional. We can’t all have the same perspective. 

So infidelity is also never one dimensional. 

Sometimes its a one night stand. Something done and forgotten. Discarded from the mind like the used condom in the motel room floor. 

Sometimes its a dear friend who betrays you, your best friend who apparently always had a thing for your husband and felt perfectly fine making a move on him. That one stings . Because you lose two people. Two very important people at the same time. 

Sometimes its a coworker, someone who stays by their side majority of the day. Who offers a sympathetic ear when your husband wants to relax.

Sometimes men just fall out of love and are too much of a coward to say it out loud, opting to cheat on you instead. 

Sometimes, they are jealous, of your career, of your kid, or your friends. Too lazy to win your affection they go find satisfaction in some one else’s bed. 

Sometimes it never even gets physical. Sometimes its just someone catfishing your husband or sending him nudes.

And sometimes, its an emotional connection. They actually fall deeply in love with someone else and I think, for most women, that would be the one that would sting the most. 

With Taehyung, it had been a night of drinking. He had had one drink too many, had tumbled into bed with some trainee a decade younger and had broken our marriage vows. 

Not really a very thought out or planned mistake. He hadn’t cheated with the intent to cheat. He had just been too drunk to know better. 

So, why did I leave him?

Because it hadn’t been about the cheating. 

It had been the drinking. 

When we first met, Taehyung couldn’t hold his liquor. Not that it mattered because he didn’t like it all that much. Didn’t mind sipping juice when other’s nursed beers. 

But as he grew older, as he grew more successful, he had started accepting drinks from producers and directors and fellow actors... Because, it was rude not to and Kim Taehyung was nothing if not the personification of politeness. 

 His tolerance hadn’t increased but his drinking had and that was a bad combo. 

:”You need to stop doing this Tae. You can’t just come home black out drunk, every time you have an after party.... You’re going to hurt yourself or god forbid someone else... some day and I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to wreck your entire life over a stupid drink....” 

It was a speech I had made way too many times. The words recycled and reframed, and rearranged to try and give them more  weight , to help him realize how  serious  the issue was. To help him understand that what he was risking, it wasn’t just his reputation. It was his entire career, his  life  if he somehow got behind a wheel someday. 

And Taehyung, who had won a bunch of Daesangs for his acting always convinced me that he understood what I was trying to say. That he understood the magnitude of my words and would heed them the next time. 

So really, what people didn’t understand was that....

That evening, when he stood in front of me and said that he slept with another woman because he got drunk out of his mind, it wasn’t the sleeping with the girl that had bothered me. ( at least not that much. it hurt of course but it wasn’t that strong. it stemmed more from a place of “why didn’t you just ask someone to drive you home, you idiot.”.. rather than, “ how dare you sleep with another woman?”  ) 

It was the got drunk out of my mind thing. 

That was what I ended my marriage over. 

That was it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The details were hashed out easily and I didn’t particularly protest or change anything. Taehyung suggested an equal division of assets and I quickly disagreed. I wasn’t exactly poor. I worked as the Head of Marketing in a successful conglomerate. I had no use for excessive amounts of money. After some debate we agreed on setting up a trust fund for Hoshi with the money. He could use it after he turned twenty five. 

And then came the next part. 

Compensation for physical / Mental Damage. 

I felt like i was spiraling. 

“None On my side. None.” Taehyung said quickly and I swallowed. 

Ms Lee gave me an encouraging smile. 

“You can be honest Mrs Kim. We’re trying to go for a clean break between the two of you without any resentment carrying over. So its best to be honest. If you feel you need recompense for any emotional distress or abuse Mr. Kim may have put you through, you’re free to tell me. I’ll make sure it goes into record.” 

And this was why I hated the idea of getting divorce. 

That entire dialogue had sounded so...so... terrible. So accusatory and ugly. It wasn’t at all the way I felt about my husband. 

It was just hurt. Plain and simple hurt because he didn’t take me seriously. Because he didn’t think my words were worth listening to. It was hurt laced with fear because he was putting himself in danger with his reckless actions and I wanted him to stop. That’s all it was. 

It was hurt. 

Taehyung had hurt me but it wasn’t emotional distress. It sure as hell hadn’t been abuse.

“None for me either.” I said firmly, honest . 

I glanced at my husband, trying to tell him that I wasn’t just saying it. That it was true. I really didn’t want him to pay me money for what had happened. 

But, Taehyung wouldn’t meet my eyes.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung signed over full custody of Hoshi with a smile. 

“I trust you. “ He said quietly, penning his initials carefully on the document. 

I nodded, feeling a little like drowning.

 We had a very comfortable way of doing things as far as our son was concerned. Taehyung got Hoshi anytime he had time off and also on weekends. 

With a very shifting schedule it was hard for Taehyung to pin down exact dates so we had long decided we would make things easier for each other. He would call me a day or so in advance and i would drop him off at Taehyung’s penthouse or the company. Special days like birthdays were always celebrated in a neutral place with both parties attending. 

Hoshi loved it because it was a pleasant surprise for him, when his dad swooped in out of nowhere and took him off to amusement parks or arcades or swimming. He loved Taehyung . 

So the visitation rights were easy to sketch out. 

It was nothing new but to have it all put down on paper and initialed and notarized....it just felt invasive. Some judge somewhere would read all about how my marriage had crumbled to ashes and would pass judgment on me and that just felt odd. 

 Like airing your dirty laundry. Like letting strangers into your bedroom. 

And the worst part was this :   I felt myself getting upset , anytime Ms. Lee gave the slightest negative connotation to Taehyung’s actions or responsibilities. Anytime she tried to imply that he couldn’t be neglectful as  a father, I wanted to jump right up and defend him. To tell her that he was a better father than the ones who lived 24/7 with their kids and didn’t know a damn thing about them. 

That even as my husband,  he had been so good to me. Had treated me like his best friend, his confidante, his lover. Had never shied away from showing me how much he loved me. Had been the best husband in the whole entire world. 

And I hated myself for it. 

What was wrong with me? 

Why was  I still so fiercely protective of him, I wondered. I hated the idea of him being criticized by anyone for any of it.

 And it made feel like such a hypocrite because if he was so amazing, why on earth were we here??

Why on earth were we getting a divorce if Kim Taehyung was husband and father of the fucking Year?!! 

Was I making a mistake? Had I made a mistake? 

It confused me. These feelings that just refused to go away. I would never act on them because therein lay the path to misery but why were they still there? 

 This desperate clawing urge to make sure he came out of this whole debacle as a good guy. To make sure no one would brand him as a cheater . Because they would. When the divorce went public, they would dig things up and they would know. 

 I didn’t know how I’d gotten to this point where , I could somehow forget everything that was wrong, simply because I wanted to focus on what felt wrong....

Technically I should be happy. 

Taehyung did something unpardonable ( for me, at the time. Now I wasn’t so sure. Now I felt like I could forgive him for it but he hadn’t asked for forgiveness. What he’d asked for was a divorce.  ) and I left him. We were separated . And now finally we were getting a divorce. 

Divorce meant we could finally get out of this no man’s land of uncertainty where we had hung for two whole years and move on, from each other and finally give a label to where we stood. Exes. We were exes. We were done. It was over. 

Hadn’t I just yelled about him about how I liked labels? 

And yet, 

This entire divorce  felt so wrong. So unnecessary.

And in a moment of clarity, as I watched Ms Lee read he whole thing over again for our benefit, I realized why it felt wrong. 

It felt wrong because Taehyung was the one who wanted it. 

Why did Taehyung want it? What had made him want to end it, officially?

Was he seeing someone else? Was he considering seeing someone else? Did he want to start enjoying the single lifestyle again? 

Did he finally take a good long look at our marriage and found nothing worth salvaging anymore? 

My head ached. 

 I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. And yet my heart broke at the thought of it. 

Ms Lee finally gathered up all the documents and gave us a wide smile.

“I wish every client I had was this reasonable. You two are a delight .” she shook her head. “ Should we get a drink to celebrate a day well spent?” 

I opened my mouth to accept when Taehyung said, “  Sure, but it would have to be a juice for me. I don’t drink.” 

I felt my heart take a swoop, nosediving to my knees. 

I stared at him, stunned speechless. 

“Haven’t had a drink in two years Mia. I’m done with that shit.” He said softly.

I swallowed. 

“I didn’t know that.” I felt miserable all of a sudden, the weight of what we had just done pressing down on my heart like a 200 pound stone, 

His gaze held mine.

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” 

We stood staring at each other in silence and Ms. Lee cleared her throat. 

“Uh... I just got a text from my next client. Maybe raincheck on the drinks? “

I nodded , watching her leave. Thank you i wanted to say, but for what?

 For ending my marriage of eight fucking years? 

And how ridiculous that very thought was. ..... She hadn’t ended our marriage,   I had. 

“I have the next two days off.” He said casually. 

“You can pick Hoshi up from my mom’s place. I need to head back to the office.” I muttered, choking a little on tears that had sprung out of nowhere. . 

“Hey.” his fingers closed over my wrists tugging me gently and I let myself get pulled into his arms. I hugged him, feeling my tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” I choked out. 

He stroked the back of my head gently.

“Me too. “ He pressed a kiss to my hair and it only made me feel worse.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Tae is 35, OC is 32 

[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 1)

Summary: You are Draco’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

Italics= flashback

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: workplace discrimination, slight slight mention of war

Word Count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without explicit permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Prologue

Two days after the dinner at the Burrow, you ran into your friend when you were shopping at Flourish and Blotts. She just got out of the Daily Prophet, and you could see a name tag on her chest stating that she’s now a reporter for the Daily Prophet.

“You got the job?” You didn’t know how to process this information. You and she were in the same year and same house. You both took the same classes, your grades were almost the same, and you both got the interview for Daily Prophet at the same time. The only difference was that she got the job, and you didn’t.

“Yes! Today’s the first day! Wait, you didn’t?” She was finding it hard to believe too.

Memories of the interview flashed back. You could still remember how the interviewer immediately furrowed his brows when he heard that your last name is Malfoy. The distrust, doubt, and even disgust on his face were so painfully visible.

You knew your background couldn’t provide any help when it comes to finding a job, but you still encouraged yourself by thinking that maybe it was because you weren’t good enough. If that’s so, you could always make up for it by working harder. But now you realized that, no matter how hard you worked, you would never be good enough for them because people would always make false assumptions about you based on your last name.

You felt dizzy. The whole Diagon Alley suddenly appeared foggy and dim, looking quite like your future, but you soon saw a lighthouse at the end of it. The brightness of the orange joke shop seemed to point out a way out for you as Mrs. Weasley and your mum’s suggestions rang in your ears.

“I need to go now!” The walk was only five minutes, but you couldn’t waste any time as you apparated right to the door of the joke shop.

“Well, this is rare!” The owner greeted you with a big grin on his face when you opened the door.

You didn’t have time to start this conversation with George, so you went right into your question, “I’m looking for Fred Weasley. Is he here?”

George was shocked as multiple questions ran through his brain. Wait, you could tell between him and Fred? But does he know you this well? Or maybe you have some history with Fred? Merlin! Y/N Malfoy? And Fred??

But he said nothing, just pointed at the back of the shop as he was still trying to process the situation.

“Thanks.” You rushed to the back of the shop and saw Fred sorting through the boxes in the storage.

“Fred Weasley.” You stated with a straight face.

“Y/N Malfoy?” Fred mimicked your tone as he still wasn’t sure what’s going on. What was this woman doing in his shop, anyway?

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. Why? Do you fancy me? Did you fall in love with me after that one dinner?” he teased.

You ignored him and continued, “Do you fancy anyone? Are you dating someone? Talking to someone?”

“Not that I’m aware of?”

“Great. Let’s get married then.”

The boxes fell from Fred’s hands. This woman is absolutely mental! “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, let’s get married. After I got a steady job, we can get a divorce anytime.” You knew he’s going to laugh it off if you don’t up your game a little, so you frowned, pretending like you were disappointed, “Well, guess you don’t have the guts to do it.”

Fred knew what you were trying to do, but he was still completely under your control when you were basically giving him a dare. This should be fun, he decided. He never really hated you anyway. In fact, he actually really admired you back in Hogwarts.

Back in fifth year, Fred and George tried to prank you. It wasn’t because you did anything in particular. It was just because you were Draco Malfoy’s cousin, and Draco was really obnoxious that year.

The prank was simple. they estimated when you would walk down the stairs and set a tripwire on your way, waiting for you to trip over and fall.

Fred and George were hiding behind a pillar, waiting, but nothing happened. When you were walking down the stairs, you stopped and pulled out your wand. “Incendio,” you whispered, and the tripwire just burned into ashes.

Watching their prank being busted, the twins were frustrated. George gave up on pranking you again. It’s not like you did anything wrong anyway. But Fred suddenly felt motivated. He’s determined to get you one day.

Fred tried everything. Be it canary cream or portable swamp, you always had a way to avoid his pranks gracefully, and sometimes, the pranks would even backfire on him. After trying for a month, Fred finally admitted defeat. He admired how your brain worked, and he couldn’t help but think that if you weren’t a Malfoy, maybe you two would be really good friends.

“Who said I don’t have the guts?”

You smiled with satisfaction, for you knew your strategy worked, “Good, I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow then.”

“Wait, you could get a job, but what’s in it for me?”

You knew he wouldn’t agree so easily, so you had already prepared a plan, “How about, as long as it‘s not illegal or against my own moral standards, I can do three things for you. What do you say?”

“Deal!” The reason why Fred refused at first was that he hated being arranged and controlled by his parents. But now, when this arranged marriage became more like a game to him, he began finding it quite interesting. “The first thing I want you to do is to take care of my shop today!”

“I’m not stupid, Weasley. What if you run away after I spent the whole day working in your shop? The deal only works after I get the marriage certificate!”

Fred nodded in approval, “Not bad, Malfoy. So I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow at one pm then.”

“Deal! Don’t be late, Weasley!”

~

The next day, you were waiting at the Ministry at one pm. You repeatedly glanced at the clock  and shuffled all the documents in your hands as you paced around. 

Fred was late. Did he bail on you? Did he think you were only joking? Did he think you were a joke? Irritation and doubt rushed through your head, but you eventually calmed a bit down when you heard a familiar voice.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we, my lovely bride-to-be?” he teased as he waltzed in.

“Not before we set some ground rules first.” You pulled him to a place where no one could hear you, and you finally took out the contract that you wrote yesterday night.

“Blimey, you actually wrote a contract?”

“Yes, Weasley, and you have to sign it,” you continued, “First, a year after I got a steady job, we will get a divorce.”

“A year?? Why does it have to be so long?”

“I don’t want the Ministry and my employer to think that I’m getting married only because I want to get a job.” You ignored his pout and went on with the list, “Second, if during this year, you actually met someone, you can date them. But you have to be discreet.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Aww, didn’t know you were such a thoughtful person.”

“Third, the fewer people know the truth, the better.”

“Sorry love, but my family already knew, and that’s already a lot of people.”

You glared at him, “You know what I mean!”

Your expression successfully elicited a small laugh from him, making you suspect that he actually enjoyed annoying you.

You rolled your eyes, “That’s all. Anything you want to add?” 

Fred shook his head, and you handed him a pen, “Brilliant!”

After signing his name on your contract, he held out his arm, “Shall we?”

You smiled, taking his arm, “We shall.”

“Fred Weasley? And Y/N Malfoy?” The lady at the Ministry looked at you and then looked at Fred several times, and finally asked in a surprised tone.

“That’s us!” Fred answered and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you both tried to put on the biggest smile.

But her eyes were still scanning you from head to toe, and finally stopped at your fingers, “So, no rings, huh?” She was looking into your eyes as if she just found out the whole marriage was a scam. 

You cursed yourself for not remembering something this important, but your smile didn’t disappear, “Yes, Freddie and I aren’t conventional people. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove our love.”

Fred was surprised when he heard your nickname for him, but he didn’t let it show. It’s weird hearing you calling him that, but he had to admit he liked the sound of it. “That’s right, my love.”

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder to display your affection. You wanted to stay focused so you won’t blow your cover, but hearing that pet name had caused a weird tingle in your stomach.

A few questions later, and before you could fully comprehend the situation, you were officially married to Fred Weasley. Looking at your marriage certificate, you felt surreal. Just in a few days, you and Fred went from classmates who never really talked to each other to a married couple. You two were legally bonded now, and it felt strange, but you had no time to process all these, for you had a more important task.

“Where are you going?” you heard Fred yelling behind you as you started running.

“I’ve got a job interview!”

~

The interview went well. The interviewer even thanked your husband and his family for their service during the war. You were disgusted by how people’s attitudes could change so drastically simply when you changed your last name. You didn’t fight in the war, but your family took in many muggle-born kids during those dark days, yet nobody cared. All they knew was your last name.

You walked home with mixed feelings running in your head. You knew your life was about to change, but you didn’t know if it was for better or worse. So many things have happened in the past few days, and you were just confused.

But what awaited you at home didn’t resolve any of your doubts. You saw your mum moving suitcases to the door. They were your suitcases.

“Mum, what’s going on?”

“Oh, darling, you’re back! How did the interview go?”

“It went well, I guess. Why are you moving my things out?”

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley and I figured it would look more authentic if you were staying with your husband. You know, just in case someone suspects anything.”

“Mum! But I barely know him!”

“Well, then this is the perfect chance to get to know each other!

So this was how you ended up knocking on the Weasley twins’ door at night, with all your suitcases.

The door cracked open, and Fred’s eyes widened when he saw you and your suitcases at his door.

You smiled sincerely at him, “Hello husband, mind if I stay the night?”

~

Chapter 2

A/N: this chapter is still setting things up. The next chapter will be longer!

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[bored-storyteller]

Maybe some hcs for Idia, Azul and Leona calling their female s/o names like "darling" or "baby" without noticing at first?

30- Twisted Wonderland; Azul, Idia and Leona x Reader

"Free words"

• It's not so much what he says that makes the difference with Azul, it's how he says it. He is a businessman, he knows how to use words well, he knows how to play with them and he knows how to sweeten them as if they were a lovely melody that hides too many secrets.

• For you to actually notice the small differences time has to pass, you have to rely completely on him and he has to trust you completely, then yes, he will pay less attention to his language.

• “My dear” can be heard often, said by him, so it doesn't make much difference to you. But that little word he uttered absently to get your attention, it's just slightly different, but enough for you to make you doubt you heard right.

• He probably loses control of his words more easily while reading some document or going about his business, so he doesn't really realize the confidential “Darling” he just gave you.

• When you point this out, he doesn't immediately understand what you are saying. What did he say to surprise you so much?

• There is also a moment of realization for him, of embarrassment. It's not due so much for what he told you, as for how he said it. He didn't realize it in the slightest! It is a pity that his red face is hidden by his hat that falls a little too much on his forehead.

• He apologizes immediately, clearing his throat. But you know, he doesn't regret calling you that. Why should he? You are his darling, after all. Is there anything wrong with this?

• If you like, he will call you that from now on. In truth, it is much more natural to him, it is right to treat you a little bit special, isn't it?

• Idia knows he has the relationship skills of a potato, so he's always very worried about his relationship with you. It seems to him that any misstep can ruin everything he has earned up to that point.

• He hardly calls you by name and not by surname. Not because he doesn't want to, but you might find him rude perhaps? He is afraid of trying anything, he doesn't know how far fiction is and where real life begins. How far is internet jargon applicable to 3d life?

• You know what he's like, so you don't worry about it, just as you don't worry about spending most of your time together alone in the library, or even better in his room.

• In any case, isn't that Idia doesn't really know anything about a relationship. Let's say maybe that he knows the theory of practice better. There are many things that he knows should happen, that he would like them to happen, but that he is afraid of making them happen.

• Sometimes he gets lost thinking about things that may never happen while he looks at you, and his mind can travel very far if you don't interrupt him. It is in one of these moments that without him being in control his lips are able to whisper a light "Darling..." to you.

• The poor boy would like to bury himself. It doesn't take long for him to realize this, just your surprised look and a quick recap of what happened.

• He didn't really want to get your attention, but now that he did he doesn't know how to get out. He apologizes as if he had committed a crime. Maybe you don't really like being called that. Was that too rude?

• The embarrassment will not disappear in him so easily, even after your smiles and your caresses, but at least now you are happy. Okay, now he knows he can call you that, and deep down he really hoped he could.

• It is already loving of Leona to call you by name and not "Herbivore" or anything like that. He's certainly not the most flattering prince you've ever met.

• Even if he loves you, he is unlikely to lose these habits. He is not someone who gives importance to appearances, what matters is the substance of things, you have to really know him to read his attitudes well.

• The growl of his voice that softens with you is already a sign of attention from him, you would really have no reason to expect anything else from him, in the end he is a ferocious animal who lives in his own way and does not care about good behavior . And in truth, that's okay.

• That "Baby" he said, with his mouth full while he is eating, really escaped him by mistake, while his brain already meditating on his next nap was not really able to mitigate those thoughts he usually would never give voice to.

• Leona denies. Denies categorically. You heard wrong, he absolutely didn't call you in such sweet and banal terms.

• You know you have heard perfectly and you know perfectly how agitated he is; the tail and ears cannot help but fidget in their master's inner embarrassment.

• He knows you know. He's not stupid enough to hope you can let his farce pass. With a bored grunt and a yawn he lets this moment pass, but he knows that this little attention of his makes you happy.

• So be it, he could give it to you. Maybe away from Ruggie's ears, maybe when you're not there for everyone to see, but deep down, you're his little herbivore. And yes, you are his annoying little darling too.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Six (part 1)

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: ANGST, bad language words

A/N: Tumblr sucks. It forced me to split this chapter up because I exceeded the text block limit. That’s just how I write! Link to part 2 at the end.

A/N 2: Thank you again to everyone for showing this story so much love! And thank you to everyone for your patience and support as I struggled to put this out. As you can tell from the multiple parts, it was a doozy. 🥰 divider credit- @firefly-graphics​

In case you missed the update, I will be publishing a new chapter every other Saturday from here on out. Schedule is in the Masterlist in my header.

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Monday morning rolled around, and your good mood from the weekend followed you into the office. Spending all of Saturday and the majority of Sunday texting James had lent to this early morning cheerfulness. You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You had even managed to arrive before most of your team.  

You hummed a sweet melody as you booted up your computer and organized a few files for Timmons to peruse. They were statements intended for the press needing his approval about a particular prominent CEO or A-list celebrity client. The firm was not confirming nor denying any knowledge of said client’s whereabouts the previous week or why there was photographic evidence of them coming out of FlashDancers NYC. Other files included those seeking rebranding approval for existing companies looking to revamp their image.

Most importantly, today was contract signing day for Stark Industries. 

You had compiled the document from a generic template the company used for all its clients, manually plugging in Stark Industries’ information in the correct spots and changing or omitting any services rendered or not. E-signing contracts were not only environmentally responsible, but they also saved a lot of your time from printing out numerous copies of a single agreement.

All you needed now was Timmons’ go-ahead to email the contract, and Pepper Potts could plug in her Jane Hancock.

Seeing Timmons enter the workroom, tweed coat draped over his forearm and attaché in hand, you rose from the seat behind your desk. You shuffled into his office after him.

He hung his jacket from the coat rack in the corner near a bank of expansive windows and placed the small, leather case he’d been carrying on the sturdy oak desk. He pulled out a stack of papers and tapped the pile against the desktop to straighten them before setting them down. Looking up at you briefly, he tugged out his laptop next.

You positioned a mug of coffee on Timmons’ desk, turning the handle just so, making it easier for him to grab. You cleared your throat gently. He glanced up at you again.

“Here’s the media statements for today,” you said, handing him a group of manila folders. You smoothed down the hem of your cardigan, smiling at the reminder of Bucky. You wished there had been a way to apologize to him again. He had left your apartment with such a pained look on his face. Maybe you could ask Peter. “And the Stark contract pdf is ready to go. I can email it over to you for final approval.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Timmons replied absent-mindedly, lifting the organized piles on the desk as if looking for something.

“Oh, okay,” you returned, nodding your head diminutively. “Do you want me to forward the contract on to Ms. Potts, then?”

“Ah-ha!” Timmons exclaimed, plucking a pen from underneath a stack of envelopes. He twirled the writing implement in his hand and peered at you, finally taking in your presence for the first time that morning.

An uncomfortable feeling washed over you as he evaluated you from head to toe. What was he looking at? Your hands tensed into fists as you continued to wait for his answer, growing impatient.

“Should I go ahead and do that, then, sir?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest like a protective suit of armor to deflect prying eyes.

“Yes, yes. That should be acceptable,” Timmons answered.

It threw you off balance. What had gotten into him? Timmons always had to have the final say on everything. It was so unlike him!

“Just so we’re clear- I will be sending the Stark Industries contract via email to Pepper Potts to e-sign,” you said, seeking clarification. You wanted to dot all i’s and cross all t’s because you weren’t going to lay your ass on the line for a misunderstanding. Especially not with something as crucial as the Stark Industries account.

“What? No, there’s been a change of plans,” he corrected.

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he purposely trying to give you mental whiplash?

“Change of plans,” you affirmed. “Has Stark Industries decided not to use the firm, sir?”

“Oh, no. They’re still going with us,” Timmons said, rearranging the clutter he’d made on his desk.

You dropped your arms to your sides, although inside, you felt like throwing them into the air in frustration. Why was he so vague? He was usually wholly transparent with you. “Would you mind explaining it to me, please?” you asked, borderline annoyed. “Last time I checked, Stark Industries’ contract signing was still on the calendar for today’s agenda.”

“And it still is,” Timmons acknowledged. “It’s moved to an in-person signing.”

Your stomach plunged to the floor. Shit! You hadn’t printed out the contract! When was the appointment? How much time did you have? So many questions flew through your head.

How could Timmons keep something like this from you? Your heart hammered in your chest. You practically wobbled on your feet. Were you going to be sick?

I’m going to get fucking fired over this, you thought, trying to steady your breathing.

“Will you be ready to go in twenty minutes?” Timmons questioned, sitting down in the comfy desk chair and opening his laptop.

“Go?” you squeaked, attempting to recall how much you had in savings. You shook your head, trying to understand his words. Was he already asking you to clear out your desk?

“Yes. The car will be here at nine,” he said, keyboard clacking as he typed something.

“Car?” you asked, finding great difficulty comprehending the situation. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Timmons regarded you in bafflement. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? NO!” you declared. You didn’t need that added to “the inability to perform required tasks” as a reason for your firing.  “I’m-I’m just really confused, sir.”

“About what?” Timmons asked, sitting back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“Well…” you started. “What do we need a car for?”

His chocolate brown eyes shone with what you imagined might be excitement. “To drive upstate, of course.” He smirked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desktop.

Upstate? What was upstate?

Timmons’ smile broadened as realization crept across your face. “Are we-”

“Yup!” he interrupted gleefully. He was like a child in a candy store. “We are headed to the Avengers Compound with a personal invitation from Tony Stark himself!”

You blinked several times at your boss, not entirely computing what he’d said. You were usually a lot quicker on the uptake than this. Why were you having such an off-day? 

“We?” you asked, shaking your head clear of the cobwebs. Why on Earth would he bring you along?

“I need someone who knows the ins and outs of these contract signings,” he said, fiddling with his pen again.

Wasn’t that his job?

“I’m just the schmoozer- the people-person,” he admitted, shrugging. “You’re the real brains behind this whole operation.

You nodded your head in agreement. He wasn’t wrong. The office would collectively collapse without you, and it felt good to hear your actual boss say it out loud.

“You better not forget it, either. Especially when my job performance evaluation comes around,” you asserted.

Timmons swiftly saluted you as if he was the subordinate. You huffed a laugh at him while shaking your head with incredulity. You took a step or two toward the office door before looking over your shoulder at him.

Timmons had turned back to his laptop screen already and started typing again. “So, twenty minutes?” he asked with an air of levity.

You faltered, nearly tripping over your feet. “Wait? You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Timmons wondered, looking up hurriedly from his laptop.

“I need to print out the contract and make copies, for one thing,” you mentioned, almost accusatory. Maybe if he had warned you ahead of time, you wouldn’t be so defensive.

“Already taken care of,” he soothed.

“What do you mean it’s ‘already taken care of’?” you asked, raising your hands to make quotation marks with your fingers.

“I had one of the other grunts do it last night.”

You gaped at Timmons like a goldfish, mouth popping open and closed. Did you hear him correctly? Timmons did something to make your job easier? You could hug him right now! You felt like pinching yourself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Once you gathered your wits again, you glanced to your feet bashfully. “Oh,” you spoke, absently fingering the bottom button of your cardigan. “Thank you.” You smiled gratefully.

Timmons returned the smile with one of his own. “You’re welcome.”

“Nine o’clock, then,” you agreed, moving further toward the doorway.

“On the dot!”

Words couldn’t even begin to describe the Avengers Compound. You’d seen it on the news, sure, but that didn’t compare to seeing it in real life. It was grandiose, imposing. You felt dwarfed in size looking up to the high rooftop. 

It was almost ostentatious in a way. Much like the man who designed it. Larger than life.

Tony Stark.

Tony had insisted he take you and Timmons around on the tour of the compound. You still hadn’t seen the need for a tour.

“When Tony Stark invites you to tour the Avengers compound, you don’t say no,” Timmons had said in the car-ride up when you questioned why it was necessary.

It was all superfluous, really. Like Tony was trying to woo the firm to sign them, not the other way around.

A headache was forming at the base of your skull as you waited in line at the reception desk to return your visitor security badge.

The tour of the facility seemed to have been drug out longer than it needed. Tony had appeared overeager to show off every little gadget or trinket. Or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

When Timmons excepted the lunch invitation after the tour was completed, you felt the urge to run down to the armory, grab a gun, and shoot yourself in the foot. You were kicking yourself for ever agreeing to come on this dumb tour.

As the line slowly dragged forward, the muffled noise of men’s voices caught your ear. It sounded like an argument. Your line of sight followed to where the altercation originated.

Standing twenty feet away was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, clearly disagreeing.

Your breath stilled as you watched the two super soldiers quarrel in a near-stage-whisper. What could they be fighting about?

From your place in line, you saw Bucky shake his head adamantly, his chestnut hair swishing about his shoulders. He might have even stamped his foot like a child, but you were too preoccupied with the look of abject horror on his face. He turned away as if to flee, but his friend caught him by the shoulder to stop him.

Were you causing this reaction from him?

You looked to your right to see if there was possibly someone else. All you noticed, though, was an empty space. Had you hurt Bucky’s feelings that badly? Your stomach clenched. The last thing you wanted was to be on an Avengers’ shit-list.

Glancing back to the two men, you caught Steve gesturing Bucky forward with short sweeping motions of his hands. Bucky shook his head again, stubbornly.

Even at this distance, you could feel the frustration rolling off Captain America.

Like a sucker-punch to the gut, you suddenly became very aware you were eavesdropping on Captain America and his best friend.

Your cheeks heated instantaneously, embarrassed of your staring. You shouldn’t be spying on them, you admonished. No matter how much your curiosity is piqued. 

It was none of your business.

You turned away from them, facing the reception desk again.

As hard as you tried not to pay attention, you could still see what looked like wild gesturing from the corner of your eye.

What if they started fighting? Shouldn’t you be conscious of your surroundings for your own safety? You fidgeted in your spot as you debated your moral compass.

Fuck it, you thought.

As you peered over to the two super soldiers, Steve shoved Bucky forward gently, causing the latter to trip over his booted feet. Bucky glared back at his friend, his hands clenching into fists. Steve shooed him further. You could barely make out the word “Go!” on his lips.

As if in slow motion, you eyed Bucky taking step after step toward you. Was he coming over here?

Once you realized what was happening, your heart plummeted to your knees as your head whipped around to the front of the line.

Bucky Barnes was definitely walking over to you. 

Had he noticed you staring?

You tried to stabilize your heart rate with slow, easy breaths, but Bucky was beside you much sooner than you could imagine.

A waft of aftershave hit your nose- woodsy and deliciously masculine. Your stomach swooped.

God, he smelled good.

Without having to turn your head, you could feel his brawny mass hovering near you.

How do you play this?

Perplexed? 

“Oh, my gosh! I had no idea you’d be here!” Of course, he wouldn’t believe that. This is where the Avengers lived. He’d probably think you were a stalker.

Apologetic?

“I’m so sorry Peter and I made fun of you! Will you ever forgive me?” Nah, too needy or clingy.

Or--

Before you could think of any other ways to portray the situation, you heard a large gush of air escape from Bucky. Was he nervous?

“Hey-hey, (Y/N),” he said, voice shaky.

You gazed to your left. Bucky looked as white as a ghost. Had his ego taken that big of a hit?

At that moment, you wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and tell him sorry, and everything would be okay. You couldn’t, of course. You didn’t know the guy. So you settled for the next best thing.

You smiled at him beatifically. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

Like a veil had been pulled, his demeanor changed instantly. He returned the smile. “Ja-” he started but scrunched his nose as if he’d made a mistake. “Please. Call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you replied.

Timmons turned around, ahead of you in line, and eyeballed you. You gave him a dismissive look, praying he wouldn’t butt in.

“So, you here visiting?” Bucky asked, observing the badge in your hand.

“Sorta. It’s a work thing,” you remarked, waving the plastic fob in the air. “Stark Industries has hired my firm as their PR representative. It was signing day.”

“Ah,” Bucky said, nodding in understanding.

“And I got the tour and lunch courtesy of Tony Stark,” you added.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised in interest. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You watched Bucky shake his head in agreement. “It was extremely overwhelming. How do you not get lost in this place?”

Bucky laughed. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes, yet he looked so boyish. He was beautiful.

“When I first got here, I did several times,” he huffed. “Every hallway looks exactly the same!”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I kept thanking my lucky stars that I had a tour guide!” 

Timmons rolled his eyes and pivoted, facing front.

“Steve had to draw me a map to help me find my living quarters after the third time,” Bucky confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, no!” you empathized, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “That must have been so embarrassing!”

“Bird brain caught wind of it and gave me shit for weeks,” he lamented.

You gave him a confused look, not understanding who or what he was referring to.

Realizing his mistake, Bucky corrected, “Sorry. Bird brain is Sam.”

“Because he’s Falcon?”

Bucky bobbed his head yes, looking a little sheepish.

“It’s clever,” you grinned. “I like it.”

Bucky reciprocated the smile, and your chest warmed. It was a feeling you usually felt while texting James. Light and airy.

Finally making it to the reception desk, you relinquished your security badge to the pretty blonde in the too-tight sweater set. She handed you a clipboard to initial and fill out your departure time.

While signing, you surveyed the blonde as Bucky stepped closer. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Was she giving him bedroom eyes?

A new kind of warmth flooded your body. It felt a lot like jealousy as it snaked its way up to your ribs and circled your collarbones, which was absurd because you had no claim to this man. You’d met him one other time. Why would you feel this way?

Shoving the clipboard back at the receptionist, you spun toward Bucky. He regarded her politely and nodded, “Ma’am.”

Her shoulders slumped, and a frown slithered onto her painted lips. Somehow you felt triumphant, but not sure why. Bucky hadn’t picked you over her.

Your heart thumped harder in your chest as you walked side by side with Bucky, nearing the exit. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling of apologizing. What had you told James if you ever saw Bucky again? Apologize profusely and ask him to coffee.

You smiled at Bucky once again as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The sound of a throat clearing resonated nearby. It wasn’t until you glanced up did you register Timmons standing so close. You had nearly forgotten about him.

Trying to gather your courage, you glimpsed between the two men. Bucky was squinting suspiciously at Timmons, and it made you chuckle lightly. “Easy tiger,” you assured. “That’s my boss, Roger Timmons.”

Bucky’s blue eyes widened a fraction, and he raised a hand in hello. “Sir.”

Timmons raised his chin in acknowledgment before looking down at his watch. You took it as his way of telling you to hurry up.

Okay, it’s now or never.

“Would you like to go to coffee with me?” Bucky blurted out, cheeks coloring pink.

Your eyes roamed across his handsome face. The boyishness was back, along with a touch of uncertainty. He was sweet, regardless of what the media claimed about him. Your lips curled up into a broad smile. “You read my mind,” you revealed, then winced. “That’s not one of your superpowers, is it?”

Bucky tittered. “No, no mind-reading.”

“Good,” you said, relieved.

“Whaddya say? Coffee?”

You dipped your head in a slow yes. “It’ll have to be after work, though.” You motioned over your shoulder with your thumb. “The slave driver over there is taking me back to the office to put me to work.”

Giggling, as you heard a scoff come from behind where you were standing, you reached into your purse and pulled out a pen and an old receipt. You quickly jotted down your work address. Handing it to Bucky, you began moving towards Timmons. “I get off at five,” you called. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” You waved goodbye.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t work too hard!”

You flashed him one last smile before disappearing through the exit door.

You had a coffee date with Bucky Barnes!

You couldn’t believe it! The giddiness swelled inside you.

You gazed at Timmons’ profile as you walked to the waiting car parked at the curb. He had that look on his face.

It was a long drive back to the city. There was no way you could endure it if he started up now.

You gave a stern look before you stated, “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself.”

Timmons threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Uh-huh,” you said dubiously. Timmons smiled smugly as you both climbed into the town car.

Chapter Five | Chapter 6 (part 2)

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN:  Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV.  Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist.  hehehe. I love my playlists.  Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters:  Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language

Word Count:  5102

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field.  The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being.  One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far.  Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it.  It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her.  That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked.  And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it.  Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it.  From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more.  Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore.  So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand.  He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take.  “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him.  “Thanks.  You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce.  Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar.  She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement.  Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight?  She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed.  She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others.  It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her.  The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue.  Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in.  There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible.  Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied?  Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities?  The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow.  Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling.  He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk.  He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back.  Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak.  “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things.  Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job.  Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field.  This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh.  He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way.  He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background.  And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point.  It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them.  It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers.  Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’  I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words.  “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to?  No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them?  “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore.  Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then.  “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this.  Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed.  Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad.  Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was!  If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect.  Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly!  We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing!  It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset?  She didn’t even try!  Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us.  Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training.  But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her.  She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends.  And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her.  Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal.  She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training.  It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have.  Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased.  Pleased!  And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous.  I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much.  I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say.  Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you.  She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.”  There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head.  “Ow!  And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent.  I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh?  And what was it?  She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly.  Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it!  She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her.  Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate.  Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening!  But we could never prove it.  It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased.  It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work.  Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning.  And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh?  He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping.  He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became.  He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss.  He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area.  He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts.  If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building.  Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her.  Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her.  He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away.  She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she.  He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path.  After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random.  They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible.  Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her.  And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape?  Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing.  It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again.  Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much.  For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her.  He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room.  Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me.  In that spar on the training grounds.  But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi.  Let this play out a while longer, first.  This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation.  So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans.  I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly.  There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.”  Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble.  “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her.  We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are.  She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side.  Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed.  “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find.  Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly.  Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first.  I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look.  Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued.  “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times.  Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does.  It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself.  You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well.  Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out.  She had to have known someone followed her.  There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it.  But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know.  This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up.  “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink.  “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing.  He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it.  He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so.  With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking.  If anything, it only seemed more prevalent.  As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest.  He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry.  He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head.  He could worry about that, later.  First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

[stuckybarton]

Before You Go [One Shot]

SUMMARY: Ransom Hugh Drysdale has finally done it, his greed had come to bite him in the ass and he was now facing life without parole. Gone was the arrogant trust fund grandson, now a man that had nothing remained. Behind an orange jumpsuit and a lifetime to reflect how his world comes crashing down from his own doing. He has come into terms with his action, but someone comes back in his life to see him before she goes live her life again without him. [Post-Knives Out AU]

WARNING: Slight Profanities(?) Not Beta’d

CHARACTERS: Ransom Drysdale x Future Ex Wife!FOC [unnamed]

WORDS: 1881

A/N: The ending of this is so ugh! i don't like how it ends, but yeah.

Years of knowing one Ransom Drysdale, the years of hating him, loving him, and marrying him. To see him in this predicament was by far the last thing she would have ever believed to would happen to her husband--ex-husband as soon as she could get his signature of the Divorce Papers. This man in a horrible orange jumpsuit and horrible workers boots was not her husband.

"What have you done, Ran?" she questioned finally sitting in front of him.

Ransom and the rest of his family still had a sway in the powers above and here they both sat. Alone, with only three correctional officers watching over them, listening with intrigue as the man had finally had a visitor that he approved of. Sitting in a metal chair that creaked as most of her weight rested on the back, she was led to wonder more about this moment, how could this happen to him, how could he let himself go into the deep end like this.

"What I needed to do." he shrugged, gone was the arrogance in his stance, no longer did he have a snide remark or a comeback. She was left to watch the glory of her lover now turn into ashes. Ransom Drysdale had finally come to accept his fate behind the steel bars.

Her hands clenched as she rested them on her lap, the hard folder that rested on top of it already burning her. This was one of the reasons she came here. To find her closure and live the life he could never give her. The Thrombey-Drysdale Clan were dysfunctional in every sense of the word, in all her years of knowing them and having to interact with them, they were the most vile and cruel family she had ever been associated with. It made her wonder, if that very family was the cause of what came to be known as Ransom, the black sheep that never truly had the love and support of his parents--desperate for money that he forced to make ends meet, even with lives were on the line, his grandfather's life being on the line.

She sighed, eyes skimming the white painted room. The lack of windows and sunlight brought a more harrowing scene before her.

Turning her attention back to her husband, there was this look on his eyes that she has never seen before. The emptiness in his blue hues breaks her heart more than she would ever admit.

Had this been her fault? Was she not strong enough for the two of them and this was what it led to? Ransom thrown into jail and she was empty with the ghost of what could have been. But then again, it had been his own doing why she had to go. She couldn't bare to see him like this, to live a life of a bachelor while she waited at him, stagnation had been the plague that had her leave and never come back.

"You weren't out of the country when there was a Will Reading with the attorney?" He inquired eyes finally landing right back at her. The same blue eyes now turned back to her.

"I left because of money, I wanted nothing out of your Grandfather's money, and having me in the same room as those assholes you call your family would only prove their point." she spat. Why was he questioning something he knew very well the answer to. "I was in California, just got partnered and I'm in the process of moving everything I own cross country." she admits.

"So that's why you're here?" he inquire. "Here to gloat? Tell me once again you've regret marrying as arrogant prick like me."

Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten. A mantra her therapist had said when dealing with Ransom, dealing with him putting words in her mouth. One of the many reasons why they fell apart and constant misery had laid waste in their marriage and in what was left of their relationship.

"I just want to know why you had to do this? Why did it have to come to this? Money wouldn't have been a problem for the two of us. We're set for life, my parents are ready to give the company to us, all they wanted was a grandchild. That was all they ever wanted from the two of us."

The argument that had been constant in their life was her wanting to have child and Ransom being unable to let go of his lavish bachelor lifestyle. They loved each other, she had hoped and prayed that will never stop, but their priorities weren't set straight, more so Ransom. She couldn't allow herself to constantly clean up his messes, deal with his horrible family, and juggle the responsibility thrown at her by her parents for her own future. She just gave in, their relationship became collateral because of it. The fact that he didn't make an effort only proves where their relationship stood.

"So what did you do instead of being my husband?" she inquired. "You slept with countless of women behind my back." The way his eyes finally broke from her own stare made it more evident of the betrayal the man had done to her. "You have proven to my parents over and over again why I don't deserve someone like you."

This wasn't the reason why she was here, but Ransom was making it so hard to control herself, to stop the emotions from spilling out of her resolve. This will be the last time she see him before she moves on with her life. With shaky hands she placed the folder towards him. Eyes finally falling towards his hands that took hold of the document at hand.

"I want a divorce, Ransom. I should have done this years ago, I was just too stupid to think you'd try to make this work."

She watched him read through the papers, each paper cemented what she had tried her best to convince him of. It was never the money.

"You're giving me what Harlan gave you in his inheritance?" Ransom questioned.

She didn't need to be part of the will reading to know the circus that Harlan had made, giving most of his assets to Martha, and a portion of it was given to her. It was no chump change. Blood Like Wine Publishing was under her name, and the harassment she had to endure because of the Thrombey-Drysdale family was not worth it. This was her only solution.

"You think the old man's lawyer would allow that to happen?" he snorts. "He wrote us all off on his will. There are fine prints on them that even I can't be bothered to read anymore."

"I know." she confirmed. "Harlan had stated that if I were to divorce one Hugh Ransom Drysdale, for whatever reason I may have, the Publishing House, and the entirety of his copyright catalogue with return to the rightful owner, to his grandson, no one else."

How the gears were now turning in his head. He has come to realize that everything that he had done was for nothing. The inheritance was still his had he made the right decision all this time. Now here he was, to rot in jail for who knows how long and the stagnation that was to come for the inheritance he was too consumed in taking for himself.

"Why not keep it then?"

"Like I told you, it's never about the money." she sighed turning her attention towards one of the guards, with his head jerking towards his watch, she knew she didn't have much time left. "I gave you everything but as much as I know Harlan's legacy would be in my good hands, if it means having to be forever your wife, I'd rather have nothing that is smeared with your family name anymore."

"You know I did love you."

"Well it wasn't enough for you to keep it in your pants."

"So that's it. Once I sign, it's game over for the two of us?"

Deep breaths. She keep telling herself to take deep, measure breaths. It wasn't worth it to stoop down to his level anymore.

"It's been over for far too long, Ransom. For once, just this once, do this for me. Let me go. I want to be happy, away from you, away from your family, and away from the memory that I can't look at my husband without remembering all of the women I've seen in our home."

That was it, the first line of tears fell from her cheeks and she was a mess. Pleading over and over for him to sign the Divorce papers and the transfer of ownership of the Publishing house to him. In what felt like hours, the sound of pen on paper had overpowered her sob, each line that needed his signature he had signed. The stone face he had could fool no one, not even her. Everything was falling apart for him.

As soon as the folder had closed, he tried leaning towards her, to which she leaned away. She had been tricked by him and his charms countless of times, but this time she will not allow it. She's already done so much, she couldn't see herself wasting it all over again for him. In one swift motion, she had slid the folder away from his hold and taking the pen with her.

She stood, wiping the last remaining tears from her eyes as she tried to compose herself.

"You're free now, Ransom. You've got the money you've always wanted, but you've lost me, you've lost the one last person that had always saw the best in you. I hope you can sleep at night knowing that."

He smirked, the bravado was back. Blue eyes twinkled, but it was far too dim from what he usually had.

"Eat shit, Ex-wife."

She nodded, acceptance finally caving in. This was for the best. For herself and for the life she had made for herself without him in it. Nodding towards the guards, they had now escorted Ransom back to his cell, but he halted just inch from the door.

"Before you go, Babe." he called out. "We could have made it work, if you just fucking saw they weren't anything to me. I never slept with any of them, I didn't even kiss any of them. I always thought I could, break your heart and all that, hoping to make you see that I'm just like what my family said I was."

"And you succeeded, congratulations Ransom. You're even worse that your family for doing this to me."

"I have a different way of loving."

"Yeah well, hope you enjoy the money, Ran. Heard you can bring a few hookers here from time to time. Make the most out of it from me will you."

"Yes Ma'am."

With one last look at her, he followed the guards back to his cell. Leaving her alone with the finality she had always needed in her life. No longer was she chained to him and no longer was she bound to the toxicity of his dysfunctional family. She was free, and that was all she ever wanted.