Light In The Abyss

We didn't talk enough about StepMum!Nancy. She lives in my wildest, wettest dreams. I think she likes messing with your pussy under the dinner table. Or making you wear a remote control vibe when you go out on mommy daughter days

no because your father talking about his boring ass business meeting at the table while you try and push down your food like you aren't clamping your thighs together because nancys fingers are knuckle deep in your little cunt.

your dad had jusr smiled kindly when you sat down next to nancy at the table saying, "m'glad to see my two favorite girls getting along." and you had smiled tightly.

nancy had just smiled and patted your hip. "we've come to find common ground recently."

now you're gripping your fork as nancy hums and nods along to what your father is saying, her pretty pink lips sipping her lemonade delicately.

her fingers are lithe and slender. slightly long from her most recent manicure, enough that they rub down on your gooey walls enough to make your teeth clench. you're embarrassed by how wet the sounds are, you don't know how your dad can't hear them. the gushy pull everytime nancy draws her digits out and the little squelch they make when she pumps them back in. your thighs are shaking.

"dear." you feel her other hand flutter over your forehead. "oh, you're hot as a furnace. you poor thing. here-" you have to bite down your whine as he fingers slip free from your hole. "-you did so good. finished your whole plate. you can be excused now. I'll be up with some warm tea and medicine for you, alright?"

you nod numbly, legs shaking as you stand. nancy smiles at you and deftly swipes the fingers covered in your juices across her lips, tasting you.

you know the medicine shes referring to giving you means her head between your legs, under your nightgown, soft tongue swirling around your enflamed clit as she coaxes cum from you.

This is so cute

i feel like we dont talk enough about how two of the most decorated female hockey players ever, one a former captain for team canada and the other for the usa, fell in love and had a baby together 

Two sides

Summary: Where once there were three, now only are two.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!reader, Yelena Belova x sister!reader

Warnings: Hawkeye spoilers!!, some cursing, some angst, violence

Word count: 6903

a/n: I’m sorry I have no idea how Build-A-Bears work

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me

”You’ll stay back.” Yelena orders, pulling on her mask. “If something goes wrong, you come in.”

“No.” Y/N scoffs, putting on her mask as well. In stead of the mask covering her whole face like Yelena’s, her covers only the lower half. “I am coming with you, I’m no back up.” Her Russian accent is clear as she speaks. Yelena glares at her. Y/N can’t see it, but she sure as hell can feel it burning through her skull. “You can’t boss me around anymore.”

”Yes I can. That’s what older sisters do.”

“And as a younger sister, I will not listen.” Y/N follows Yelena as she starts walking towards the rooftop where Clint is. She doesn’t try to stop Y/N from following, knowing there’s no changing her mind.

Yelena gets on the roof, Y/N right behind her. As Clint hasn’t heard the two spies yet, they sneak behind him. Yelena is the one to throw the first punch. Clint is too surprised to attack right away, which gives Yelena and Y/N the upper hand. He talks to the comms he is wearing while starting to fight back. When he puts Yelena into a chokehold, Y/N kicks his back, making him let go.

He gets a change to to shoot two arrows when he pushes the sisters further away, but the two recover quickly, continuing the fight. Y/N notices a girl in a purple suit hanging onto a wire, recognizing her to be Kate Bishop. She gets back to sliding when Yelena uses the wore to kick down Clint. Y/N takes her eyes away from the girl and starts punching Clint when Yelena and Kate bump into each other.

Kicking Clint’s feet from under him and walks next to Yelena, who points a gun towards Clint. Kate and Y/N stare at each other. It distracts Y/N enough not to hear another woman coming from the wire and kicking her and Yelena down. Though they don’t really fall, as they land on their poses. They had become posers, as Yelena would call it. For Natasha.

The fourth woman fights Clint while the other three run for the gun that fell out of Yelena’s hand. Kate reaches it first, kicking it off the building’s roof. Yelena ignores Kate and goes back to fighting Clint, while Y/N fights Kate. She wraps her legs around her neck and makes her fall. After that, she goes back to Clint. For a moment Kate is too flustered to move, but she starts fighting back soon. That’s when Yelena attaches a wire to her and drops her. Clint lets her fall.

The fighting continues for a while between the four people left on the roof before an explosion throws them all back. The ringing in her ears makes Y/N groan. It takes a while to get back up. When she does, Yelena is already fighting Clint.

Everything happens so quickly. Clint pulls away Yelena’s mask, Yelena shoots him with her weapon, Kate is pointing her bow at the sisters. Y/N shakes her head, looking at Kate and standing in front of Yelena, so if Kate decides to shoot, she would shoot her. When nothing happens, Y/N throws her mask away. Kate’s eyes widen. She lowers the bow. Yelena throws a hook to the ground and grabs Y/N’s hand. Running, they jump off the roof.

“Why would you do that?” Yelena slaps Y/N’s hand when they get inside the apartment they’re staying at. “You do not get in front of an arrow willingly.”

“I made sure you didn’t get hit.” Y/N mumbles, starting to get off from her dirty clothes.

“That’s my job!”

Y/N grunts. She puts some rubbing alcohol on a piece of cloth and sits down. “Just because Natasha isn’t here it doesn’t mean you need to be my protector. I can handle myself.” She presses the cloth to the scratches on her arms.

Yelena huffs, taking the cloth out of her hand and cleaning the cuts. Y/N doesn’t fight back. She knows Yelena needs constant confirmation that she is okay and protected since Natasha died. She can’t lose another sister. So, she’ll protect Y/N like Natasha protected her before getting out of the Red Room.

Y/N met Yelena and Natasha in the Red Room. Being multiple years younger than them and getting brought into the Red Room as a toddler, the two instantly got protective over her. During her time in the facility, she also met Melina, doing some missions with her. She became like a mother to her, just like Natasha and Yelena became her sisters.

“I just need you to be safe.”

Y/N giggles, putting on a clean shirt when Yelena is done with the cleaning. “This line of job isn’t exactly safe.”

“That is why I told you to stay away.”

“You also told me to stay close to you. I cannot do both.” She puts on some sweats and sits down to a couch. “Oh this is so comfortable. Why don’t you get a couch like this?”

“I don’t need a couch.” Yelena changes her clothes as well, sitting next to Y/N. “We move all the time. How is a couch good for us?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. No couch.” She grumbles, crossing her arms. “You’re so annoying.”

“You hurt me.” Yelena places her hand on top of her heart, frowning.

“Good.” Yelena shoves Y/N, who shoves her right back. And so starts a shoving fight full of laughs.

Y/N stares at Yelena who is making a pot of mac and cheese in Kate’s destroyed apartment. “How do you even know that pot is clean?”

“It looked clean.”

“That’s disgusting.” Yelena shrugs, not really caring what Y/N thinks. She switches the stove off, taking the pot with her. Y/N goes to the window, looking out for Kate. “There she is. She’s coming!”

“Finally.” Yelena mumbles. They hide near the door so Kate wouldn’t see them when she comes in. Kate opens the door and puts on the light, walking forward, not seeing the two. Yelena steps closer. “Kate Bishop.” Kate grabs a hot sauce bottle and throws it towards Yelena, who catches it easily. Y/N snickers, emerging from the shadows. “Hi. I made macaroni if you want some.”

“It’s her comfort food.” Y/N comments.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Well, I was starving and you took forever, so I wanted to make food.” Yelena explains as she starts walking towards the table.

“What do you want?” Kate asks, staying on her spot.

“Relax, Kate Bishop. We just want to talk, okay?” She sets the pot down to the table. “Are you really not hungry? That fight was so long.” Yelena looks at Kate. “It’s really tasty. Really tasty.” She goes to the small kitchen area.

“Yeah, I know what boxed mac and cheese tastes like. I know it’s... It’s delicious.” Kate mumbles, still not moving. She really doesn’t understand what’s going on. But somehow, she can’t take her eyes off of Y/N. The girl has been on her mind since the rooftop fight. She knows she shouldn’t think of someone on the other side like this. Her eyes, lips, face, accent, everything. She can’t take her eyes off of her.

Y/N is staring at Yelena, but she knows Kate is looking at her. She can feel her intense gaze on her. Smirking, she turns to look at her. Eyes widening, Kate looks to the side, her cheeks flushing.

“Forks, forks.” Yelena mumbles, making the two turn their attention to her. She groans. “No.” Lifting up a fork, she turns to Kate. “You have one fork?” Y/N furrows her brows and looks at Kate.

“I’m one person.” She tries to explain.

“That’s so weird.” Yelena picks up a plastic fork. “Kate, this is not cutlery. This is not cutlery.”

“We have more than two forks even though we are two people.” Y/N comments.

Kate glances at Y/N’s smirking face and ignores the jab. “I am not going to have dinner with you two after you tried to kill me and then broke into my house.”

Yelena walks back to the table with an offended look. “We did not try to kill you.” Her voice cracks. “A, I put you on a wire to remove on obstacle. And B, we did not break anything. We are way too talented than that. And C, stop being so defensive, okay?” She shakes her head. “You’re so hostile.”

“We’re not here to hurt you. Promise.”

“Exactly.” Yelena nods. “I don’t have any weapons on me.” Y/N raises her brows, making Yelena sigh. “Okay, I take that back. I don’t have any weapons currently in my hands.” She raises her hands. Kate and Y/N continue staring at her, the latter’s brows still raised. Yelena glances at the weapons on her wrists. “That’s a lie also.”

“I also have weapons on me, but unlike Yelena, I will not lie about it.” Yelena flicks Y/N’s cheek, sitting down. Y/N slaps her hand. “Want me to show?”

“I don’t- There’s no need.”

Y/N ignores Kate and takes a pistol from the back of her jeans, setting it to the table. The she takes a knife from her boot and inside of her jacket. The last things she takes out are Natasha’s old widow bites she got from her.

Yelena takes one of the knives. “Is this mine?”

“No.” Y/N takes the knife out of her hand and puts it back to her boot. Yelena gives her a look. “Yes it is.” She mumbles and puts the rest of the weapons back to their places.

“Сука.” Yelena mumbles. “Come on, take a fork. Eat, eat. Both of you. Please, our daddy says it’s good for you.” Kate sighs and sits down to the chair across them.

“You know I do not like mac and cheese.” Y/N sits next to Yelena.

“You’re weird.” Yelena mumbles before turning back to Kate. “You’re probably thinking, what? This is crazy. I’m going to have dinner with the enemies? And she made some really good smelling macaroni.” She says with a singsong voice, swinging her hands around. “But in all honesty, if we wanted to kill you-“

“You would have already.” Kate finishes her sentence.

Yelena nods. “Right as you open the door.” She points it to make her point clear.

“I probably wouldn’t have time to shut it.”

“No.” Y/N giggles.

“I’d have been dead.” Kate nods. “Okay. Yeah.” She looks at the chair and sits down, not seeing any other option.

“You’re good with a bow.” Y/N comments as Yelena and Kate start eating the mac and cheese, the latter quite begrudgingly.

“Pardon?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Your bow. You can use it well.”

“Oh!” Kate’s eyes widen and her mouth stays open. “Oh, uhm, thanks? You- you’re good with your hands and..and legs.” The moment she says it her eyes go up and down Y/N, remembering the moment she was very close to her.

“What?”

“Fighting.” Kate clears her throat.

“Stop eyeing my sister like that.” Yelena glares at her. Kate opens her mouth multiple times, but can’t get any words out of her mouth. “Are you done?” She doesn’t give her time to answer to her first comment.

“Yeah.”

“I go?”

“Sure can.”

“I could put hot sauce on it?” Yelena takes the bottle and Y/N grimaces. “Ugh. I love hot sauce.” She squirts the sauce all over the food. “Yess.” Taking another bite, she turns to Y/N. “You really should eat too, so you became big and strong like me.” She turns to Y/N.

Y/N laughs. “Big and strong like you? You’re tiny.”

“Well, you’re tinier than me.”

Y/N frowns. “Shut up.”

“So, what do you want?” Kate asks, before the two can escalate their bickering.

“Well,” Yelena sets down the fork she is eating with. “It’s our first time in New York.” She lifts up her hands and does a little shimmy. “It’s a business trip, so time is limited. But we do want to see some things.” She starts eating again. “We want to see, uh, The Empire State Building, the new and improved Statue of Liberty and the Rockefeller center.”

“I want to go to Build-A-Bear.” Y/N comments and Yelena nods.

Kate laughs quietly. “Very funny.”

“What, it’s not good?”

Y/N frowns. “Is there no Build-A-Bears here? I really wanted to go there.” She pouts and glances at Yelena.

Kate hesitates for a moment. “Oh no, they’re-they’re great and there is a Build-A-Bear. Yeah you... I mean, you’ve gotta see the tree.”

Yelena gasps, clapping her hands together. “Exactly. See? I love American Christmases. The tree, the presents, the super-powered reindeer, Rudolph.” She lists.

Kate hums, nodding. “Rudolph.” She mumbles and lets out a laugh.

“He is so weird.” Yelena chuckles.

“You’re so childish.” Y/N mumbles, picking her nails.

“I’m childish? Which one of us wants to go to Build-A-Bear, huh?” Yelena looks at Y/N, brows raised. “Besides, you are a child.”

“I am not a child.”

“No? You’re multiple years younger than me. You’re like eighteen.”

“Twenty-two! Not eighteen.” Y/N groans. “That’s not many years younger.”

Kate coughs to bring the sisters’ attention back to the relevant thing. Her eyes linger on Y/N for a while, but she turns to Yelena when she starts talking again. “Have you ever eaten reindeer?”

“Cannot say I’ve had the pleasure. No.” Kate has a tight lipped smile on her face. She still isn’t sure what to think of the situation.

“It’s,” Yelena laughs. “No, it is not a pleasure. No, it’s, uhm, it’s really tough. It’s chewy.” Y/N grimaces at Yelena’s description, remembering the last time she had to eat reindeer. “You have to braise it for a really long time. But hey, Kate Bishop. You grew up here, right?” Kate nods. “You must have some recommendations for us.”

“Yeah, uhm.” She laughs nervously. “Yeah, I-I have. Let’s see. The High Line. High Line is great. Uhm, there’s a Christmas market in Union Square. Uhm.. I’m not quite sure those are the right fit for the blood-thirsty vigilante types.”

Yelena laughs loudly. “Blood-thirsty vigilantes.” She glances at Y/N while chuckling. “Sometimes you’re funny, Kate Bishop.”

“Do you say my whole name to point out that you know it?”

“Yes. We know a lot about you.” And so Yelena starts listing all the things she knows about Kate and her family.

Y/N sighs, tuning out her sister. She thought coming to Kate Bishop’s apartment would have been much more interesting than it is. She is bored. She’d rather be listening to Alexei’s stories that have no real plot line. She doesn’t even really like Alexei. The man is loud and kind of really mean. But she tolerates him for Melina and Yelena.

“Are you in New York to talk to Clint? Is that why you’re here?” Kate’s question brings Y/N back to the conversation.

“No, no, no, no.” Yelena shakes her head. “We’re here to kill him. I have a question for you. What is it? Why do you risk your life for him, Clint Barton? How has everybody forgiven him for his past?”

“He saved the world.”

Y/N scoffs at Kate’s comment. Kate frowns and looks at her. “Our sister saved the world.” She glares at the archer.

“Natasha Romanoff, she saved the world.” Yelena continues. Kate keeps a neutral face, but the two in front of her can clearly tell her mind is anything but. “Stop pretending like you’re not surprised. It does not look cool.”

“You two are really Natasha’s sisters?” Y/N nods at the question. “Wow. I did not see that coming.” Kate’s eyes are wide and her brows are high up. “Thank God, I didn’t kill you two up there.”

Yelena starts laughing while Y/N shakes her head with a grin. Kate stares at them with confusion. “You kill us?” Yelena points at her and her sister. “Again, oh, Kate Bishop. You are so funny. That’s hilarious. That one is the funniest.” Y/N nods while Yelena still chuckles.

“Natasha and Clint were friends. Why are you after him?”

“You are so fond of him.” Yelena leans her head to the side. “It tells me you don't really know who he is.”

“He came out here to protect me.”

“No.” She shakes her head, keeping her haze on Kate at all times. “He came here to protect his reputation. Do you know how many people he killed?” Kate looks down. “The trail of blood that follows him, it could wrap around the entire world.”

“Okay. Wow. That was very Russian.” Yelena hums at the comment. “He's still an Avenger.”

“What does that word even mean? Huh? That it holds so much power. You call him a hero no matter what he does?”

“It means that when you choose to spend your life trying to help people, there are going to be things that you lose. When you face the kind of threats that he has, there's going to be collateral damage.”

“Our sister is gone because of him.” Yelena says in a louder voice, leaning forward on the table. Y/N looks down at the mention of Natasha, missing her sister dearly.

“What? No. No, that is... No.”

“She's gone.” Yelena nods with a frown. “Is she collateral damage?”

“Is that what you think of your father?” Y/N asks before Kate can answer Yelena. “He died during an Avengers threat, correct? So, he was just collateral damage as well, no one important.”

“No, that’s not what I m-“

“No?” Y/N interrupts. “All but your father are collateral damage? Why is your father any more important than our sister? Or all the other Avengers who have died? The victims of Sokovia, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. All those who died without their family with them during the blip. War against Thanos.” Y/N lists. “Are you willing to tell all the dead people’s families how someone important to them was just collateral damage? Just something that happens. But that’s just life, right?” She laughs a laugh that makes chills go through Kate’s spine. “You didn’t know them, so they have no meaning to you.”

“I don’t...” Kate tries to find the right words. She stares at Y/N. She looks like she’s hurting, but she masks it well. “Of course they’re important.” Kate whispers, but Y/N looks away. She sighs, turning back to Yelena. “Look, there is no way that’s true. He would not let that happen.”

“How long have you known Clint Barton?”

Kate looks to the side, pausing for a moment. “About a week”

“It will not be difficult for us to complete this assignment.”

“Wait a minute, somebody hired you to kill him?” Yelena doesn’t answer, she just leans back on her chair, looking down while Y/N looks at her. “All I'll say is that if there is someone out there that is telling you Clint is a bad guy, then maybe you should ask yourself what kind of person hired you. He is not perfect. Nobody's perfect. But he is good.”

“However he convinced you about who he is or how many people think or call him a hero, truth is it doesn't matter. We are defined by what we do. Not by nice words.”

Tears prickle Y/N eyes at Yelena’s words. Natasha didn’t believe that. Natasha wouldn’t have defined anyone by their past. She takes a deep breath. The rest of the conversation between Yelena and Kate is going inside her ear and out the other. She doesn’t know what to think of the situation. Natasha wouldn’t like what they’re doing, but she can’t follow someone who is dead. Yelena is here, with her, and she isn’t leaving. Does it even matter anymore? Yelena and her are so deep in the business they didn’t even want to do. But it’s the only thing they’re good at.

“Thank you for the girls' night, truly.” Yelena comments, standing up. When she notices Y/N staring off to the distance, unmoving, she pulls her up by her arm. Y/N looks at her sister, while Kate is staring at her. Yelena nods towards the open window. They walk up to it. “Oh, and, Kate Bishop, do not get in our way again.” A hook clings to the floor and the two drop down the window.

Kate walks near the big Christmas tree. She suddenly stops when she notices someone familiar looking at the tree. Taking a few steps forward, she hesitates, not knowing if she should go to her or not.

“If you’re trying to be sneaky it’s not working.” Y/N speaks up, not looking away from the tree.

Kate sighs, walking next to her. She stares at the side of her face. It’s red from the cold. Her hands are in the pockets of her jacket. She is wearing very stylish clothing. Kate likes her style. “Where’s Yelena?”

Y/N hums, kicking the rocks under her feet. “I don’t know. We aren’t always together, you know?” She laughs quietly, looking down at the ground.

“Yeah, I know. I just- just thought you’d stay together for safety reasons.” Kate’s breath hitches when Y/N frowns. Somehow it’s the saddest and cutest thing she has ever seen. “Not that I think you can’t take care of yourself! I- I think you’re very, uhm, capable.”

Y/N nods, still not looking at Kate. Kate desperately want her to look at her. She wants to see her face. She doesn’t know why the young paid killer has invaded her mind, but somehow she can’t stop thinking about her.

“Why do you do that?” Y/N asks, finally turning to look at her.

“Do what?”

“Stare at me, say those weird compliments.”

“Oh, uhm.” Kate’s cheeks flush red. “I-“ This time she turns away, feeling like Y/N’s staring at her too intense. “Well, you know.” She shrugs and chuckles.

“I don’t know.” Y/N frowns. The way Kate is acting is strange in her opinion, or at least she isn’t used to someone acting like that. Her staring makes her feel this weird fluttery feeling in her tummy. “That is why I asked.”

Humming, Kate turns back to Y/N. The confused look on her face looks so vulnerable and adorable. She just wants to squeeze her. “Do you...know what a crush is?”

Y/N furrows her brows, thinking. “As in crushing someone? Hurting them?”

“No.”

“Then no. Natasha was usually the one to teach me and Yelena new things, though Yelena knew more beforehand than me, but I suppose we didn’t have enough time to learn everything.” She tells quietly, taking her hands out of her pockets to play with her fingers.

“Shit.” Kate mumbles, looking at the ground. She rubs her face, thinking what to say. She already started, but could she actually tell the enemy about her crush on her. “Listen.” She touches Y/N’s arm to make her look at her. “I don’t know why I feel like this, but I-.” Kate moves her arms around. “I know we’re on different sides of this thing, but I have grown this crush on you.”

“I still don’t know what that means.”

“Right.” Kate laughs. “It means...liking someone.” Y/N stays quiet. “More than a friend. Liking someone romantically. Fancying them.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Y/N stops Kate’s rambling. “But why?”

“Well, you’re very beautiful and cute. But it’s obviously not only because of looks.” Kate assures quickly. “You seem very smart and capable. You clearly know how to take care of yourself. You’re genuine in your own way. And honestly, I don’t think you really want to kill Clint.”

Y/N stares at her fingers. Does she want to kill Clint? “This mission was officially signed only to Yelena, but since I go where she goes, I take part in it.”

“So you follow Yelena blindly? Do everything she says?”

“No, I trust her because she’s doing her job as my sister. And I would not trust anyone else to do that job better than her and Natasha. That is why I do what she says.” Y/N lips are in a tight line. She doesn’t like Kate’s questioning. “She can’t lose anyone else, neither can I. Not in a world like this.”

“I’m sorry, about Natasha.”

Y/N nods. “I don’t think you should have a crush on me.” Kate’s face falls. “Those kind of feelings weren’t allowed in the Red Room. I don’t know what they are or what they mean, so you should stop.”

“It’s not something you can control. I can’t just stop.”

Y/N and Kate stare at each other. People walk past them in a fast pace, sometimes bumping into them. The air is getting colder and colder as snow falls down to the ground. “Why are you telling me these things?”

Kate hums. She doesn’t know how to answer to the question. “Have you gone to Build-A-Bear yet?” Y/N frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s go together, and I’ll try to explain.”

“How do I know you aren’t taking me into a trap?”

“I guess you just have to trust me.” She puts her hand forward.

Y/N stares at Kate’s hand in confusion. “Am I supposed to grab your hand as a sign of trust? I’m not doing that. I don’t trust you.”

“Right.” Kate drops her hand, wiping it to her pants awkwardly. “No- I- It’s just something from..books and movies.” She mumbles. Clearing her throat, Kate points towards a mall. “The store is over there.” Y/N stares at the mall, biting her lip. “It’s not a trap.”

“Fine.”

The two walk go the store in silence. At times Kate glances at Y/N’s neutral expression, wondering what she is thinking about. The assassin on the other hand keeps her gaze straight forward. Y/N’s eyes brighten up when they get inside. Kate smiles at the sight, hiding it by looking at the ground.

“Do you know what you want?” Kate asks, looking at Y/N while she wanders around the store.

“No, I have never been here.”

“Let’s start looking then.”

They walk around the non stuffed stuffed animals. Y/N picks up a brown bear, turning it around in her hands.

“Would you like to have that one?” Y/N glances at Kate, nodding. “Okay, I’ll get this wolf. We can decide a scent patch for it and a voice before they get stuffed.”

“No voice.”

“Okay.” Kate nods, walking over to the scents with her. “You can decide which ever you like.” Y/N starts smelling all the scent buttons. She holds a strawberry scented button to Kate. “You want that one.” She nods. “Let’s get into stuffing then.” She leads Y/N towards the worker that stuffs the plushies. “Give it to her.” Y/N gives the bear to the worker. She watches as it gets stuffed, cringing at the look of it.

“That looks violating.”

“I know.” Kate chuckles, giving her plushie after Y/N’s is done. “Next step is to choose clothes.”

Y/N looks over the big racks of clothes, pausing when she notices similar clothing on one of them. Kate stops next to her, frowning when she sees the wetness in her eyes. She turns to look at the costume in front of them, her eyes widening as she sees the Black Widow costume. “I don’t... I don’t think I can do this.” Y/N mumbles. Somehow she can’t get her eyes away from the costume.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kate sets her hand on Y/M shoulder, not even thinking who she is with right now. “Do you want to go look some other costumes?”

Y/N shakes her head after a moment of silence. “No. I want the Natasha one.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.” Y/N grabs the costume and gives Kate a small smile. “I’m sure. Not the hair, that doesn’t look like Natasha.”

Kate laughs, keeping her hand on her shoulder. She decides to grab a Christmas sweater for her wolf, after it they go to the birth certificate station. “Here you can name it and give it a birthday.”

“Why is this so complicated?” Y/N mumbles as she looks at the screen in front of her. “I just want a bear.” She unconsciously lifts the bear up to her nose, smelling the strawberry.

Kate smiles at the sight, enjoying the softer side of Y/N. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to.”

Laughing, Kate nods. She fills her certificate rather quickly, while Y/N is struggling with her. The birthday is set, but she hasn’t picked a name yet. “Need some help?” Y/N stares at the bear wearing Natasha’s clothes quietly. “Do you want to name is after her?”

“Is that weird?”

“No! Of course not.” Kate taps the name bar, writing Natasha into it. “That good?” Y/N nods. Buying the bears go quickly as not many people are on the line. Now they’re sitting on a bench, holding their boxes.

“I have to go.” Y/N mumbles, standing up. Kate stands up as well, staring at her. “Lena will wonder where I am.”

“Can I-“ Kate clears her throat. “Will I see you again.”

“I still have to kill Clint Barton.”

“You don’t have to.”

Y/N chuckles, shaking her head. “I know you think that, but my life isn’t like yours, Kate Bishop. You’re rich. You think you’re indestructible because you have always had a way out. Not everyone has that, especially in this line of work. I don’t have that. I can’t do whatever I want.” She stares at frowning Kate. “I need to do my job no matter what I want.” They stay quiet for a while, looking at each other. Y/N looks down and walks away.

Kate groans, rubbing her face. “Shit.”

Yelena and Y/N walk into the Christmas party, ignoring the worker who asks fo their jackets. They start walking around the huge room, going to different directions. Y/N glances to the direction of noice and ruckus, noticing Kate talking to comms. Soon someone starts shooting through the windows. Y/N kneels to the ground, away from the bullets and looks for Yelena.

“Who the hell is shooting?” She asks as she reacher her.

“I don’t know. Come on, Clint went to the elevators.” They jog to the elevators, not noticing Kate coming after them until she stops next to them after Yelena presses the elevator button.

“So, I know you're chummy with my mom, I didn't think you'd make the cut for the Christmas party.”

Yelena glances at Kate. “Kate Bishop. We are not here to ruin anything.” She assures, looking at the elevators. “We are just going to kill Barton, have some appetizers, and then we’ll go.”

“I hope you enjoy the bruschetta, 'cause it looks like you already lost him.”

Frowning, Yelena turns to look at her. “He's in the elevator.”

“Yeah. What, out of 65 floors, you think you're just gonna magically guess which one he's on?”

The other elevator dings, showing twelve in red. “Twelfth floor.”

“Damn it.” Kate mumbles. She sneaks a glance at Y/N, who is on Yelena’s other side. She is grinning quietly.

“Enjoy the party.” Y/N smirks when the elevator opens, getting inside.

Yelena starts going inside after her, Kate pushing behind her. “No, no, Kate, stay.” She pushes Kate outside and goes to stand next to Y/N, waiting for the elevator to close. Just as it’s closing, Kate slips in. Yelena groans. The trio stand quietly, Kate eyeing the buttons. She reaches over to them, but Yelena slaps her hand. “No.”

Not long after that, Kate tries to reach for the buttons again, but Yelena stops her. As two times isn’t enough for Kate, she tries again. This time Yelena throws her to the ground and holds her arm. Suddenly Kate slaps her.

Y/N’s eyes widen and Yelena furrows her brows. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. I-“ Not finishing her sentence, Kate goes for the buttons again.

Y/N takes hold of her dress, while Yelena yells out multiple nos, but it rips apart. “Oh my god, what is happening.” She stares at the broken dress in her hand. Kate points at her suit. “Did you plan that?”

With a need to impress, Kate nods. “Yes.” Yelena lifts her brow and Y/N shakes her head. “No, No, I...” She shakes her head. Taking advantage of the moment, Kate presses every single button she can.

“No, no!” Yelena groans. “Come on, that is so annoying.” She opens her jacket and throws it to Kate. “Сука.” She runs out of the elevator, Y/N right behind her after she throws her jacket onto the floor. Kate starts running after them.

The three start fighting while running and jumping over the furniture in the rooms. Kate puts herself between the two room, blocking the entrance. “What are we doing? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. Let’s grab a drink, huh?” She glances at Y/N.

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.” Yelena nods.

“Cool.”

“After we kill Barton.”

“No. No, that’s not what... Come on. You two don’t need to-“ Kate doesn’t get to finish her sentence as Yelena kicks her in the ribs. And so the fighting continues.

Yelena slams Kate into a glass. Kate starts throwing things and Yelena over a chair. Y/N kicks Kate’s feet, making her fall down. Kate punches Y/N, hard. Yelena takes out her baton to break the window, but Kate throws something to get the baton out of her hand, hitting her hand at the same time.

Yelena flings her arm around. “Ow. That really hurts!”

“Yeah. Yeah, well, so did the kick to the ribs.”

Y/N holds her already bruising cheek. “Did you have to punch me so hard?” Kate cringes at the bruise, mumbling a small sorry.

“That was a good one.” Yelena mumbles, remembering the kick she delivered not too long ago. “That was good form. But you did the really cool body throw.” She moves her hands up to down.

“Yeah, thank you. Thank you.” Kate points at her. “Stop making me like you.”

Yelena grins. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” She shrugs. “Besides, you started liking Y/N without me doing anything. Which I still do not accept.” She glares at Kate. “Anyways, that was really fun. Bye.” Throwing a hook to the floor she jumps out the window.

Y/N groans, rolling her eyes. “Always the windows. For once, I’d like to go out the door.” She mumbles, giving Kate a small wave before throwing her own hook to the ground and going after Yelena. When they go low enough, they start shooting towards Clint until they land on the ground and run away.

Yelena and Y/N notice Clint on the stairs near the ice rink and the fallen tree. Yelena body slams Clint to bring him down while Y/N jumps over the railing, staying on Clint’s other side as he stays on the ground, hurt.

“Before we kill you, I need to ask you one question.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Yelena and Y/N.”

Y/N glances at Yelena, but the latter pays no mind to her. Clint gets up so he is kneeling, seeing the two better. “I need to know what happened.”

“Look, Yelena, Y/N.” He glances at the younger of the two. “If I told you what really happened, you’d never believe me. But what you need to know is your sister sacrificed herself, and she saved the world. I’m sorry.”

Yelena starts shaking her head. “You’re lying.”

“What?”

“You’re pathetic. You’re so pathetic.” She pushes him down. Y/N stares at them, not knowing what to do. She doesn’t want to disobey her sister, but she is starting to doubt if Clint ever killed their sister. Going against her doubts, she helps Yelena fight Clint.

Clint pushes Y/N further away and grabs Yelena’s shoulders. “Nobody killed her. She made a choice.”

“Stop lying!” Yelena rolls down to her back, kicking Clint over her to the ground where Y/N punches him as he gets up.

Clint tries to fight off the two. He kicks Y/N down. “Stay down, kid.” And takes Yelena into a chokehold. “You’re not listening to me. She sacrificed herself, understand?” Yelena takes quick breaths. “I couldn’t stop her.”

“No.” Yelena gets away from the hold and kicks him down. She helps Y/N up. “Why would she sacrifice herself for you? Why do you deserve it?”

Clint stays down. “I don’t.”

“So she died because you let her.”

“I fought for it. But she was better than me.”

“You should’ve fought harder.” Y/N grabs Yelena’s hand, trying to give some kind of comfort for the both of them. Yelena pushes her hand away and takes put her baton, hitting Clint with it over and over again until he falls to the ground.

“Yelena.” Y/N tries to grab her arm, but Yelena keeps pushing her away. “Yelena!” She kicks away her baton.

“What are you doing?” Yelena pushes her to the ground, anger clear in her eyes. She takes out her gun and steps closer to Clint. But she stops when Clint whistles. It’s her and Natasha’s secret whistle. Yelena’s face falls as she gasps. “How do you know that?”

Clint turns around slowly, staring at her. “Your secret whistle with Nat. She talked about you all the time, Yelena. You too, Y/N.” He glances at Y/N who hasn’t stood up yet.

“She did?” Clint nods. “What did she say?”

“She told me about how you got separated as kids. She was flying that plane. I asked her if she was scared. All she could think about is that you were safe. That never changed, Yelena.” Clint turns to Y/N. “And you. She told about the time she first saw you in the Red Room as a two-year-old. How at that moment she felt insane amount of need to protect you. She was thankful to see you grow up no matter the circumstances. She loved you two. And always wanted you safe.”

Both Y/N and Yelena are crying. “You got so much time with her.”

“Yes I did.”

“It shouldn’t have gone this way.” She shakes her head as tears fall down her cheeks. “If I was there, I could have stopped it. I could have- I could have changed it.”

“Nothing was gonna stop her, Yelena. You know Natasha. She made her choice. We’re gonna have to find a way to live with that.”

“We loved her so much.” Yelena sobs, glancing at quietly crying Y/N.

“Me too.” Clint sniffles. Yelena walks in front of him. She gives her hand to Clint and helps him up. “I’m sorry.”

Yelena turns to Y/N. She takes hold of her arms and lifts her up. “Forgive me, сестра.” She dries her cheeks and holds her hand as the two walk away from the ice rink and Clint.

Y/N approaches Clint and Kate slowly, who are sitting on the back of a ambulance together, taking a breather after the fights. She’s holding a small piece of paper in her hands, rolling it around in her nervousness. The partners stare at her as she stops in front of them, Kate has a smile on her face.

Y/N clears her throat. “I- I wanted to ask you something, about Natasha.” Her voice is quiet and she stares at Clint’s shoes, not daring to meet his eyes. “I wrote her letters, during our time freeing the widows. So, I was just wondering if she got them.”

“She did.”

Y/N’s head snaps up to look at Clint. “Yeah?” Her eyes glaze over.

Clint nods with a small smile. Sure, she just tried to kill him, but she is mourning. He can understand that. “She wrote you letters back during the five years you and your sister were gone.”

“Do you..do you think I could see them?”

“Of course.” He nods towards Kate. “Just let her know where I can send them. They belong to you.”

“Thank you.” She gives Clint a genuine smile before turning to Kate and giving the paper slip to her. “Here’s my number, if you want to keep in contact.”

“Can’t you like, get my number pretty easily.” Kate grins, remembering how Yelena had got her number.

“Yes.” Y/N rolls her eyes with a smile. “But I wanted to do this traditionally. And I wanted to give you the choice.” She picks the skin around her fingers. “Let me know.” Smiling, she starts walking away from the pair. A ping comes from her phone. Y/N takes it from her pocket and stops when she sees the message.

I do want to keep in contact :)

She turns around and smiles to Kate, who is already smiling at her.

this deserves so many more likes. I seriously read this and was like I bet this has over a thousand likes and then when I get to the end there’s only five?? Ahhhhhh this is a masterpiece

don’t blame me, love made me crazy

summary: alina spent her whole life hiding and she is tired of it. when you and aleksander show her what power is, she craves it with every fiber of her being.

warnings: dom/sub dynamics but i don’t think they are explicitly clear (dom!aleksander, switch!reader, sub!alina), crying, clit/pussy slapping, cum play, it’s not choking but there’s a lot of neck grabbing, a bit of hair pulling and finger sucking. oh and a little bit of religious themes??

word count: 4.5k

a/n: *throws this at you* HERE HAVE THIS EVEN THOUGH I HATE IT BUT IT’S THE BEST I COULD DO || this is a slight AU in which alina knew from the beginning she was grisha but, she just didn’t know she was the sun summoner, paired with a corruption arc || *insert warning about not excusing the darkling’s actions this is just fanfiction* || also why did no one tell me how fucking hard it is to write a threesome oh my god || alina is 25, and reader met aleksander a long time ago so she is old || i feel like there are a lot of errors so remember that english isn’t my first language

lapushka: darling

milaya: sweet girl

Sasha: the shortened version of Aleksander

Alina could recall a time when she was able to run and play with other kids, when her body wasn’t too weak, too frail. When she had her mother and father, and she could play all day and climb trees. When she glowed, and her mother smiled brightly and her father hugged her tightly. But then the Fold swallowed them whole, leaving her alone and unable to call her light.

She heard the way everyone talked about Grisha in the Duke’s House, unknowingly talking about her, too. They called them witches, talked about their keftas and their small science with disdain. The word unnatural fell from everyone’s lips, even Mal’s. They regarded them with suspicion and distrust and thought of them as nothing more than obsessive reverents of their leaders, the Darkling and his Moon Summoner.

But she also heard how the boys talked about Grisha women. She heard about how beautiful they were and how they would like to tumble them. But just for the night, then they would leave because they were not worth all the work. They are scary, they would say between laughs.

But they were scary because they were strong and powerful. She once had been that, too.

The day the examiners came she kept a disinterested face, but on the inside, her mind was running wild with possibilities. She wanted to go, wanted to leave the Duke’s house behind and live in the Little Palace. She wanted to be stripped naked of the word otkazat’sya because she was not abandoned, she wasn’t nothing.

But then her eyes caught Mal’s and she saw the glimmer of hope in them. If she left, who would he have? No one. She couldn’t leave him, he was the only friend she had ever made; the person who turned the dark corners of the house into places to play hide and seek and the woods into somewhere they could explore.

If the Duke had been there, he would’ve recognised the look in her eyes and see that woman who stood tall and faced a row of bayonets unflinchingly.

And so, when the Grisha in a red kefta made the cut and she felt something inside her rise, she closed her hand around a piece of glass. Nothing came, and Mal smiled at her almost as brightly as her mother had done that her heart felt warm. It doesn’t matter, she told herself, I have Mal. She smiled back, and never tried to call for her light again.

I can wait, she thought. Her time would come.

—

It came in the shape of a man wrapped in black who commanded shadows and a woman in black and silver who called a light similar to hers.

They took her from the First Army, wrapped her in a kefta and showed her what power could be. What she could be. They taught her how to wield her light, gave her the space she needed to grow and become the best version of herself. They took that girl who shied away from the attention the first time they met in Aleksander’s tent and refused to make her small, forcing her to take up space and command attention. For the first time ever, she felt powerful.

Alina had spent her whole life feeling weak, like a burden. She had always been treated like the glass she had used to keep her powers hidden. “Keep a pencil on your hand,” Ana Kuya had said, “or else someone will put a rifle in it instead.” Because who would think the sickly girl would be strong enough to fight in the front lines and protect her country? They seemed to have forgotten that glass cuts, too.

She was done being powerless, defenceless. She was done being the frail little girl who needed protection. With the first taste of her own light, she became a famished woman, always craving more. More power, more light, always more. And they gave it to her.

That day by the fountain, when you and Aleksander told her the truth, or at least the part of the truth she was missing after so many years of hiding herself, she stayed. She listened to you talk about how the Fjerdans hunted Grisha from one country to another and burned them alive under the disguise of being found guilty on trial, how the Shu experimented on Grisha by cutting them open and taking their organs, how the Kaelish drank their blood and the Kerch made them slaves. Even the Ravkans, who needed them for protection, ostracized them.

No place was safe.

Aleksander explained how he had had a million names and a million different lives. Lanton, Eryk, Leonid. The Black Heretic, Starless Saint, Darkling. Never Aleksander. He told her how he sometimes still feared he would forget it one day. He explained he had met a million different people, never his father. Annika, Sylvi, Lev, Luda. They were all dust now, yet sometimes the side of his head from where Annika had hit him still ached.

He told her he had been hunted by people all his life, that many friends had betrayed him once they learned he was an amplifier. How they all wanted his bones.

You told her how you had escaped Fjerda with nothing but a nightgown and your light to keep you warm. How your father had wanted to burn you himself and had dragged you by the hair through the snow and beaten every inch of skin he could find. How he had hunted you for years after you left, and managed to kidnap you and drag you back to the Ice Court. You also told her how you had melted his eyes with your light and burned him in a pyre.

The two of you had seen your fair share of dead bodies, Grisha’s opened wide with missing organs or their ashes scattered in the unforgiving cold winds of Fjerda. Even though Aleksander had managed to create the Little Palace, a safe heaven for Grisha, they were still only seen as tools for the war.

And Alina understood. When the two of you confessed your true identities, when you told her your plans and showed her the hidden truth underneath the pretty keftas and the glamorous winter fetes, she understood. The war had gone on for too long, all those years of Grisha proving themselves useful just to survive were enough. So when Aleksander told her about Morozova’s stag, the plans to expand the Fold and use it as a weapon so you could rule together, she said yes. She wanted it, wanted to be the Sankta the peasants had started to worship, and she wanted to do it by your side.

The three of you were one and the same. Alina may have wanted to be good a long time ago, but not anymore. Not when you kissed her with so much fire and Aleksander caressed her skin so softly as if he was touching a cloud. Not when your moans echoed through their room and Aleksander traded those soft touches for rough thrusts that were still so loving. Not when, for the first time since she was five years old, she felt like she belonged somewhere. She belonged to someone.

—

The winter fete had ended hours ago, and everything had gone perfectly. Alina wore a special kefta made of black fabric and gold embroidery, a gift from both you and Aleksander. After that day by the fountain, Alina traded the blue kefta for the black one that she had hidden in her closet.

When she first arrived at the Little Palace, she wanted to blend in with everyone else. The looks people gave her made her uncomfortable; they were either full of jealousy or they hid an ulterior motive as they welcomed her to her new home. But now, she no longer wanted to hide in the crowd of Etherealkis, instead, she embraced being the myth everyone whispered about.

Once she took the stage, she called for two bursts of light and moved them all around the darkened room and looked towards you, standing next to Aleksander in front of the stage. When you nodded your head, the small ball of light she held in her hand exploded and filled the room with a white blazing light. Everyone covered their eyes in fear of being blinded, except for you and Aleksander. You were staring straight at her, identical smirks on your faces and a proud glint in your eyes.

Alina felt a shiver go down her spine. It was the same look you gave her when she first showed you the progress she made, the one Aleksander gave her when she said yes to their plans. It was the same look both of you gave her in the privacy of your room as her legs trembled and mouth hanged wide open.

And then the whispers started. Sankta Alina fell from everyone’s mouth as they kneeled in front of her, Alina’s heart pounding against her ribcage as she saw the whole room venerating her. It was an intoxicating feeling, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She wondered if they had any idea of what was truly coming, of what the three most powerful Grisha were planning to do.

When the show finished and the celebration started, Aleksander pulled her to the side of the stage and whispered, “I think a private celebration is in order.” She saw you making your way towards them and nodded excitedly. He took her by the arm and pulled her into the crowd, meeting you halfway. People were offering their congratulations and reaching their hands to touch you, but Aleksander quickly commanded his shadows to cloak the three of you, making you invisible.

She could still hear the people laughing and crying, and as you walked through an empty corridor she could feel your hand on the small of her back as you chuckled “We are going to be gods.” Aleksander’s fingers had a tight grip on her hand as he walked down the hallway. It was lit only by the moonlight, an iridescent and melancholic glow against the marble floors and columns. The ornate gold decorations gleamed, and the dark corners served as a refuge for your longing touches.

—

As soon as you closed the door of your room, Aleksander kissed Alina with newfound fervour as his hands started to unfasten her kefta. The half-burned candles cast a warm glow in the room, your shadows dancing around one another. You left a slew of wet kisses against the side of her neck, “It felt good, didn’t it?” you whispered in her ear, lightly biting its shell. “Seeing them kneel before you? Did you like it, Sankta Alina?”

Alina shivered, “I loved it.” she answered against Aleksander’s lips, and watched as they curled in a dark smirk. “They have no idea what you really are, Sol Koroleva.” His voice was low, “Our little saint is actually a Heretic.” And then he was kissing her again, small shivers of pleasure going down her spine and making her knees weak. She didn’t even realize you had pulled both her kefta and underwear off, so lost in the feeling that was Aleksander’s lips.

Your hands were on her breasts, fingers pinching and flicking her nipples harshly while kissing her jaw and biting her earlobe. Alina moaned, gripping Aleksander’s hair so roughly she elicited a groan out of his mouth. She turned her head around and kissed you needily, one hand going to the back of your neck and pulling you as close as she could with the awkward angle. Aleksander took his kefta off and repeated your actions against the column of her neck. She turned completely around, pressing her body against yours until her naked chest met the rough fabric of your kefta. You unfastened the clasps, throwing it behind you carelessly while her fingers removed your underwear.

Your lips never parting from hers, you walked her back towards the bed and pushed her down. You stood in front of her and softly petted her head, then slowly tangled your fingers in her hair and pulled, forcing her to look you in the eye. Aleksander stood next to you, chest bare as his obsidian eyes looked at the girl kneeling in front of you two. His rough hand grabbed her chin harshly, “Do you want us to kneel for you too, Alina?” the question made her stomach flutter. “You just have to tell us and we’ll do it. Have we ever denied you, lapushka?” You hadn’t. Everything she could have ever possibly wanted you gave it to her.

Alina nodded, her mind too foggy with various scenarios to properly speak. “Say it,” you snapped, grip tightening against her scalp.

“Kneel,” she said breathlessly, eyes wide open as she watched the two most powerful Grisha in existence lower themselves to their knees for her. Just at her simple command.

Your soft hands travelled up her thighs, pushing them in opposite directions so she was open wide for you. You and Aleksander left a trail of wet kisses on the inside of each thigh, the burn of Aleksander’s beard making goosebumps rise all over her skin. It was his fingers that reached her first, spreading her folds to expose her completely. She was glistening, wetness gathered on her slit and sticking everywhere. “Oh, you liked that,” he chuckled, “you liked giving out orders. Do you think you’d make a good General?” he taunted, watching as her head fell back against the mattress.

“I don’t think so, Sasha, she is too messy,” you tsked as your finger traced her slit up and down. Alina whined at your words, her hips slightly bucking at your barely-there touch.

A gasp left her mouth when she felt your tongue against her clit, the pointed tip flicking it up and down before sucking it just right. Then it dived in so deep inside her that the previous gasp was followed by a loud moan. Aleksander pushed two fingers inside her mouth, going as far as they could reach and making her gag, not expecting the intrusion at all.

She sucked on them eagerly, almost using them as a pacifier to control the loud moans you made her let out. There was spit gathering at the sides of her mouth, but she latched one hand around Aleksander’s wrist to keep them there. You sneaked your hands around her waist, pulling her closer as you kept sucking and slightly biting all over her pussy.

Her voice grew louder once again when Aleksander removed his fingers and pushed them inside her with no warning. A choked gasp escaped her, and she shut her eyes tightly as her legs started to tremble. “Ah, ah, don’t close your eyes, lapushka,” he warned, “don’t get shy now, this is what you asked for remember? Look.”

She forced her eyes to open, staring at your flushed cheeks and glistening chin. You maintained eye contact with her, never stopping your movements. Aleksander curled his fingers, and she felt a white heat curling at her toes. She raised her hips in tandem with Aleksander’s fingers, covering your chin in her juices and making your nose bump her clit.

“Are you gonna cum, Alina?” you asked her, head coming up for air as your thumb kept circling her clit. She whined a small “yes”, her hips still rolling and her hands gripping the black silk sheets tightly, creating more creases. She could feel the almost unbearable heat in her stomach, the coil inside her tensing with each touch. “Please, I’m gonna- I- please” she blabbered, consciousness gone as the only thought her brain could register was let go.

“Be a good little saint for us and cum, Alina” said Aleksander, one hand pressing on her stomach to keep her from moving so much. With a sharp pinch from your fingers on her clit, the coil finally snapped and her legs trembled before closing around both of your wrists. Her whole body was humming with electricity. Aleksander, however, never stopped pushing his fingers. She cried out, the overstimulation slightly hurting her, but then he smirked when he saw her hips raising once more in search of another release.

He slapped her clit, her loud cry music to his ears. “What a greedy girl you are, Alina” he sneered, and Alina whimpered.

“I’m not, I’m sorry,” she panted, but it wasn’t the truth. She was greedy for everything the two of you gave her, everything you taught her. And she wasn’t sorry for craving so much, because that’s what you taught her. Take, take, take, every time a bit more until she was satisfied with what she had. But she would never be satisfied, not when her veins were already thrumming with the anticipation of what having Morozova’s stag as an amplifier would do to her. Would she be able to wield merzost?

And Aleksander knew she was lying. “Liar,” he sneered and pushed you off her while shaking his head at Alina in a haughty manner. He raised his glistening fingers in front of you, and you immediately opened your mouth, licking them clean and humming around them. You kept Alina’s release on your tongue, never swallowing it. “You know what to do,” he said as he looked you in the eye, a wicked glint in his dark eyes.

You raised to your feet, climbing over the bed and settling yourself over Alina’s body. You pulled her hair so she was looking up at you with hazy eyes, then used your other hand to squish her cheeks. “Open your mouth, my love” you breathed. Alina did as you said and left her tongue out, already knowing what was coming.

You gathered the spit in your mouth, mixing it with her cum, then slowly let it drip on Alina’s tongue. You heard Aleksander groan behind you, his hands caressing every inch of your body as Alina’s eyes rolled at the taste. A moan escaped her when you squeezed her neck, “Swallow” you ordered.

Alina did as you said without hesitation, her pussy clenching around nothing when you murmured a small ‘good girl’. With a hand on her chest, you pulled her down on the mattress, hips straddling her waist. “I don’t think the Saints were too happy seeing you beg for a Heretic to make you cum,” you murmured in her ear.

You kissed her neck as Aleksander towered over both of your bodies. “Since you were such a selfish girl, Alina,” he said in a low and mocking voice as his hand travelled up and down your spine, “I’m not going to fuck your greedy cunt until you make our little moon cum at least twice with that lying tongue of yours.” All his propriety was gone, exchanging his posh and pretentious words for ones filled with such crass that they would have Queen Tatiana blushing.

You looked at him, eyes glinting in excitement. “Go on, hop on her face, my love.” You followed his command instantly and climbed over her body, eager to have her tongue inside you. You turned so that you were facing Aleksander, and slowly lowered your body so that your pussy was hovering over her mouth, and a needy whine escaped your mouth when you felt the flat of her tongue against your clit.

After positioning you perfectly above her mouth with her arms around your plush thighs, she started to feast. She moved her tongue in and out of you, making sure to stimulate your clit however she could, mainly using her nose as she bumped it while moving her head around trying to get as deep inside you as possible.

That small amount of pleasure after being ignored for so long was enough to make a mess of you, whines and blubbers falling from your mouth. Your hands scrambled all over the air in search of something to hold on to, settling for Aleksander’s. He held them tightly, intertwining your fingers, as he watched you fall apart. His cock was throbbing at the sight and the noises, but he had to wait a little bit longer. He stared at you, drinking in the image of his milaya completely lost in pleasure, the inhibitions that controlled her during the day completely gone for their eyes only.

You couldn’t control your loud cry when she hummed at your taste. Your stomach tightened as you fell into a pile of total ecstasy, your hips slowly rolling against her face as the last trembles of your orgasm went through your body. “Oh so good, my love, so good for me,” you mumbled blearily, ears already feeling stuffed.

Finally, Aleksander positioned himself in between Alina’s open legs, pushing his cock along her dripping folds. He tapped it against her clit a few times, making her whine, and then slowly entered her. She moaned, and it sent vibrations to your pussy. He stayed still for a moment, wanting to push Alina’s limits. Her hips bucked desperately, but he slapped her clit in warning.

“You never learn,” he snarked, “I told you to stop being selfish but you are so focused on yourself you refuse to follow a simple command.”

Alina whimpered, shaking her head as she put two of her fingers in her mouth, covering them in spit before pushing them inside you. Her mouth then focused on your clit, sucking and slobbering all over it. Your hips moved of their accord, already feeling another orgasm building inside you. You looked at Aleksander, and your skin burned at the lewd smirk he gave you. He had started to move slowly but precisely, knowing exactly which spots to hit inside Alina to drive her insane without giving her what she wanted.

Her fingers curled perfectly, and you moaned loudly. “Oh right there! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You said while shaking your head as if she could see you. It was pathetic how whiny you were getting, but you couldn’t help it, you were simply feeling too good. Your thighs started to tremble and then your whole body tensed. Quickly, Aleksander grabbed you by the neck and kissed you sloppily, muffling all of your cries.

As soon as he saw you cum for the second time, he started to move his hips faster. He was going at such a speed the headboard was banging against the headboard, but he didn’t care. He grabbed Alina’s hips tightly, knowing there would surely be bruises tomorrow, and Alina moaned at the image in her head of her body being covered in purple hues. Purple hues made by him.

She clenched around him, and his hips stuttered. “That’s it,” he grunted “Squeezing me like a vice, my love, are you going to cum? Gonna make a mess on my cock, hm?” She just hummed against your pussy. She hadn’t stopped moving her fingers since you came a second time, and you were already trembling in anticipation. It wouldn’t take you too long to come once more, and your walls were gripping her fingers so tightly it was getting harder and harder for her to move them.

The stimulation was getting too much, turning your brain into mush. You weren’t able to form coherent sentences, only whimpers and unintelligible babbles leaving your mouth. Your hands were gripping Aleksander’s shoulders, nails digging crescent moons on his skin and making him hiss in pleasure at the small cuts. You pouted your lips, a silent sign for him to kiss you.

He put a hand on the small of Alina’s back, slightly raising her hips as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. The new angle made him hit such deep places inside Alina that she cried out in pleasure, her legs around his waist pulling him even closer.

Aleksander’s hips stuttered as he kissed you. It was sloppy and more tongue than teeth, but neither of you cared. Alina grazed your clit with her teeth and that was enough to dissolve you into a sobbing mess, body shaking as it slumped against her sweaty one. Your head rested against one of Alina’s plush thighs, hypnotised by the sight of Aleksander’s glistening cock moving in and out of Alina’s red pussy.

Slowly, you moved your hand so your fingers slightly graced her puffy button. The contrast between Aleksander’s rough and unforgiving thrusts and your delicate touch made her cum with bucking hips and a loud long moan.

Seeing Alina in such unabashed pleasure was enough to make the ball of nerves inside Aleksander explode, and he groaned as he spilt everything he had inside Alina. His body fell forward, his forehead resting against your sweaty back. His chest was heaving, taking deep breaths as he watched Alina sigh happily at the feeling of being full of him.

Slowly he pulled out, watching his cum drip on the black sheets. However, his softening cock twitched one last time when he saw you slurping his cum from Alina’s sensitive pussy, cleaning Alina up in the process and she let out a few more whines as you finished drinking everything you could. You raised your head, showing him your tongue before you swallowed, then smirked at him.

“Fuck,” he said in a low voice. You slowly raised your body and he moved forward, cupping your face and kissing you once more. He groaned in your mouth when he realized he was tasting all three of you at the same time.

While he grabbed the bunched up sheets at the end of the bed, you climbed down from Alina’s body. Your soft palm was splayed against her flushed cheek, turning her face so she was looking at you. Your other hand pushed back the hair that was sticking to her sweaty forehead while whispering praises in her ear.

Aleksander’s body fell next to yours, and you smiled tiredly at him. His thumbs cleaned the already drying tears from your cheeks and you nuzzled your face against his rough palm. Then he looked at Alina, who was resting her head against your chest with an arm slumped across your stomach. She gave him another tiny smile and squeezed his hand, too tired to utter any words.

The two of you watched, entranced, as he used his shadows to blow out the candles. You were so used to seeing him use his powers to intimidate people or command their attention that you basked in these moments when he used them for something so simple.

When he laid back down, he sneaked an arm around your waist. His chest felt warm, and those three wretched words almost fell from his lips, but he swallowed them back. It felt weird, to say it aloud. He spent so long thinking that feelings and love were distractions, a weakness, that it almost felt wrong to say it. But he cared for you and Alina, he cared too much and he hoped you knew.

You did know, so you softly kissed his shoulder and Alina squeezed his hand one more time before the three of you closed your eyes and fell asleep, limbs tangled together.

—

Alina could remember a time when she was scared of the dark, when she learnt that darkness was in fact a place and that there was a person who could command it whenever he wanted. But now, she longed for it and the soft caresses that it hid.

TAGLIST: @gxtitobxby @amixedwitch @pansysgirlfriend —if you want to be tagged tap here

He is a morally gray character and nothing anyone says or does can change that

That’s all have a good day

The way some people in this fandom react to the Darkling being called morally grey is so fucking funny.

Yeah this is the most relatable thing I’ve ever seen

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Look buddy, i’m just trying to make it to Friday.

yelena belova and kate bishop wallpapers

like/reblog if you save❤️

requested

😻😻😻

Place to Stay Chapter Masterlist

Klaus Mikaelson x Gilbert!Sister!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Each chapter has its own warning if needed, but please tell me if one chapter is lacking something that should have been tagged. Can also been found in AO3. + there is a tag list so let me know if you want to be added

-S

Bad Summary: Elena's sister ends up spending the night at the Mikaelson mansion...

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11

part 12

part 13

part 14

part 15

part 16

part 17

part 18

part 19

HELLO? UM 😦

The Agony of Desire

Part 11 // Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, Smut, fingering, p in v sex, mild choking, talks of pregnancy, canon typical themes, drugging, assault, guns.

A/N: Brace for impact...

~

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

~

It's kind of annoying that good things don't last. Who designed a world like that anyway? Where you could get a taste of something so perfect, so peaceful, and so explosive. The rekindling of a lost love, the burning passion of two years of agony, the desire to stay in a blissful paradise with the one person who ever made you feel... seen.

To have it ripped from your hands without a forethought, taken by the universe with five simple words.

We have to go back.

But you didn't want to. You wanted this, here, with him and the quiet moments in between careless laughter and the shared breath of lovers before a kiss. And you wanted to grip it tightly and tell the universe to fuck off because Billy Russo was yours and nobody would ever take him away from you again.

And he sees this all written on your face when he gets the words out.

"Hey, hey, hey," he says, finding his way to you as you look down, your throat tight beyond compare, your eyes watering as you try to pretend that you're fine. His hands on your shoulders, "We'll be okay," his voice interjects, "I'll keep you safe, it's just that Kingpin needs something more from me, and then we're done. We'll be back here- or free to be in New York together- wherever you want- it's just one more thing and it'll all be over." He rambles into your ear, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him to you.

You take a deep breath, listening to his heart race in his chest.

"I don't want to lose you. I only just got you back." You sniffle.

"Oh baby," he kisses the top of your head gently, "You're not losing me. Not that easily. You told me no several times and I still kidnapped you anyway."

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh.

"When you say it like that, it makes you sound like a villain." You say in between breaths.

"I am a villain. I'm a really bad man." He confirms with a nod and you shake your head in disbelief.

Your stomach picks that moment to make a loud gurgling sound and your mouth drops open.

"Oh my god did you hear that-?"

"-I know right, what the fuck is living inside of you?" He says with mock horror in his face and you laugh, pulling him back into a hug that he returns easily.

You sway for a moment, before pulling back.

"Come, let's talk strategy over dinner." You say decidedly, pulling him toward the kitchen.

~

You're staring at his sleeping form, from your seat opposite him.

He always looks so young when he sleeps, appearing so innocent about the ways of the world, and you acknowledge that it must be his eyes that give him his age. The look in them, the weariness, the distrust, the way you can see him analysing things as they happen. It's what makes him look close to the age he always claims to be. Now though, he could pass for at least a decade younger. Billy's got eyes that have seen so much, and you just wished for one moment you could ease his burdens.

He'd explained to you last night, that some of the money hadn't gone through, that Fisk was demanding the remaining twenty million and would restart his pursuit of your family if he was not compensated. It was one thing to be hunted by the Meachums, but you would most likely never survive if they managed to put their differences aside long enough to pursue you.

It made you nervous. To be going back into the lion's den no matter how reassuring Billy was, that everything would be okay.

How could he know something like that? How was he so sure, that the minute you two landed in New York, that both groups wouldn't descend on you both and take it all away? Take what you'd just been given...

You unbuckle your seatbelt, standing, and smoothing out your black dress for a moment. Billy peeks an eye open sleepily, looking up at you as you take the few steps to him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice laced with heavy sleep, undoing his seatbelt and opening his arms for you to climb into his lap. You accept the invitation, straddling his body easily, burying your head in his chest, listening for a quiet moment to his heart, feeling fear and anxiety rise in your throat, and letting the soft scent of him calm you.

"I'm okay." You say after a little bit, "Just scared."

His arms encircle you, a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"It's easy, in and out, nothing to be afraid of."

He'd said the same thing last night, but fear, held no care for rationality. Fear's only job, was to remind you of everything you could lose.

You grip his sweater, taking a deep breath, contemplating whether to tell him what you'd almost spilled yesterday- that you loved him, beyond words, beyond reason, maybe even beyond fear.

And yet, you still couldn't figure out if you could forgive him for the last two years.

It was... strange.

To love someone so deeply and still be burdened by the weight of their actions.

Maybe that was love. Imperfect, flawed, cracked, but so blissfully warm at the same time.

The Japanese art form, Kintsugi comes to mind next, and you wonder if that was something possible for you and Billy. An object, made more beautiful after being broken.

It's what lulls you to sleep.

The comfort of broken things, and the hopes that you have the chance to put them back together.

You wake a little later when the plane shakes, you stiffen in fright and his hand is immediately on the back of your head.

"Just turbulence baby, you're okay." He soothes.

You make a little hum, crawling off his lap to give a big stretch.

He watches you carefully, and you turn to look at him in question.

"What are you doing?" You ask, wondering why he's just staring at you.

"Nothing, just... remembering." He says, giving you a sly smile.

"Creep." You say, with mock malice in your tone.

"Careful," he warns, "You'll get me hard if you keep talking like that."

You almost choke on your spit with the speed you inhale at. Holy fuck what gave him the right?

You grin when a comeback flies right into your head.

"I bet it doesn't take much to get you hard, Russo." You tease, reaching under your dress to tug your panties down your legs. You watch the muscle in his jaw pop as he clenches his teeth together, never breaking eye contact with you as you free your panties and ball them into your fist.

"I bet it just takes the right move at the right time and that big cock is all swollen and leaky, hmm?" You tease, tossing your panties at him. The soft material hits his chest.

He doesn't say a word, looking at you with amusement as you silently dare him to say something.

He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to study you a little, before he extends a hand to give two swift pats to this thigh.

Holy shit that did not just make you tingle.

"Do you want something, Russo?" You ask evenly, and his smile deepens.

Shit. He had that quiet dominance about him that made you want to get on your knees and have him fist your hair in his large hand-

Christ almighty, where did your feminism go?

"Come here." He says casually, looking away from you for a moment, as if the clouds could ever be as interesting as the little brat of a girlfriend he had, one that he knew craved a firm hand.

"Bite me." You quip.

"If I have to get up from here," He warns "You're not getting to come."

You lick your lips.

"You're bluffing. You like me too much."

When he stands, your entire body gives you a warning that you were now in danger of being punished.

"I do like you," he acknowledges, "but that's not going to stop me from teaching that bratty cunt some manners."

Oh boy.

You take a step back as he begins to approach you, adrenaline spiking in your system, but in this private jet, there really was nowhere to go.

"Lesson number one, when I say 'come here,' do you know what I expect you to do?"

You keep backing away, knowing that your space to evade him is getting smaller and smaller.

"Do I look like I give a shit?" You ask, looking back to see how much space you have left.

It's all the distraction he needs to grab you. You gasp as he pins your lower half against a seat, you wriggle your body, but can't seem to get any leverage to push him away.

"I expect you, to bring that needy little cunt to me." He says lowly, as if you haven't spoken.

"Who said I was needy?" You gasp out, between small grunts as you struggle to get away from him.

His warm hand is sliding between your thighs in the next second.

"Oh please," he says, doubling down on you, using his body to stop any hint of struggle, "We both know how hot and wet this cunt gets for me."

Your mouth drops open when his middle finger slides over your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip, going still.

"There she is," he hums in appreciation, "Just ready for me, hmm?" His finger circles your clit slowly, you feel your thighs relax involuntarily, opening up for him to take what he wants. Your head is turned to the side, avoiding his stern, but deliciously warm gaze to listen to his sultry voice.

"Say my name, baby. Tell me whose cunt this is."

You can't deny him here. Not when you're in the air flying back to your ex-fiance, you wouldn't give him any doubts about this.

"Yours, Billy." You say so softly, still avoiding his gaze.

You're rewarded with firmer circles to your clit. You hiss, tilting your head up to expose your neck to him reflexively.

You were made to be taken. And he was made to take.

"The things I want to do to you, baby, the ways I want to ruin you would probably get me arrested in some countries."

Your mind fills with all the terrible possibilities. A small moan slips from your mouth.

"You want that too, don't you? You want to give me what I want?"

You nod your head, sighing as his finger on your clit pauses for a moment, only to push into you a second later.

You gasp as his thick finger breaches your entrance, filling you and pressing right against your g-spot. You go rigid, gasping as the pleasure builds inside you, teetering on an edge that doesn't come because he then holds his hand still.

You let out a low whine and he chuckles in response, your noses bumping affectionately as if he isn't a finger deep inside you.

He makes a small movement, something of a 'come-hither' with his finger, that creates a tapping motion on that spot inside you.

Pleasure blooms from your cunt all the way up your spine, exploding in your brain, before his finger stops moving.

Your eyebrows are scrunched together, mouth parted as he torments that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Why?" He asks, as if you can remember what was being said.

"What?" You question, out of breath, as he makes a few pumps of his finger into you. You gasp, tightening your walls around his finger in a silent plea not to stop.

"Why do you want to give me what I want?"

You shiver as his thumb begins slow circles into your clit, your knees wobble.

"Because..." you trail off.

"Because?"

He stops all movement and your frustration peaks.

"Because I'm yours." You say under your breath, finally looking into his dark eyes.

Is that what he wanted to hear?

His mouth stretches into a predatory smile.

Suddenly, his finger withdraws from you. You gasp, desperate to keep him close, but your hands are unable to grab him before he's pulling away from you.

"Good. Don't forget it." He says, his back is to you as he heads back to his seat.

Oh this asshole...

The fasten seatbelt sign pings on and you huff in frustration.

You make your way back to your seat angrily, sitting down and fastening your seat belt, glaring at him the whole time.

He sits too, fastens his seatbelt, but not before giving you a good show of sucking your arousal off his finger.

Which only throws you back into the memories of his tongue, and how much he genuinely loves tasting you.

You couldn't even fathom how that was possible. How his head between your thighs, his tongue working you over could give him so much pleasure, when Ward before wouldn't even-

You suck in a breath, heart squeezing as you look at him. Really look at him.

He looks at you too, from his spot opposite, and you're not even touching, but you've never felt this connected to him. It feels like he's in your head, like you're in his, like you know everything he feels from one look at him.

Billy Russo is a part of you now, he's in your bones, running deep in your veins, and he always will be.

And from the burning look in his eyes, he feels the same way about you.

~

Your face is pressed to the bed, a little bit of drool slipping past the edge of your lips and soaking into the soft sheets as he ruts into you from behind.

There's a couple of pillows under your hips, propping your boneless body up, presenting your body for his railing.

Your eyes roll back in your head, an unintelligent sound floating past your lips and you hear him chuckle above you between forceful thrusts.

"Do you like that, baby? Does it feel good?" He asks, and you can only make another dumb sound in response.

'Feel good' was an understatement. It was more than that. If your pleasure was the big bang, he was at its center. He was the source, the fuel, the reason. All emphasised by each rough motion of his cock.

"So perfect for me, baby. So fucking perfect." He gasps, his brain short-circuiting with the abundance of pleasure.

You clench fistfuls of the sheets between your fingers, your pussy tightening around his cock, warning him that you're going to come. He grunts, hips slapping against yours loudly, his hands smoothing over your skin, scraping at the curve of your back and ass with his blunt nails.

Open and pliant below him, you whine as you're brought right to the edge.

"Gonna come so hard, hope you taste it." He grunts out, and you let out another whine, so close... so close...

But he pulls out of you at the very last second and you whine in distress. He flips you over forcefully, the pillows still haphazardly beneath you, raising your hips so that he can reenter you easily.

You gasp his name, pulling the wild strands of your hair away from your face. His hands are firm on your hips, squeezing so tightly, you think it may bruise.

"All mine. Isn't that right?" He asks.

"Mmhmmm." Is all the noise you can make.

"Only me?"

"Yes Sir." You murmur.

He pushes one of your legs up, you gasp as you feel him go deeper, a droplet of sweat trickles from his forehead, down his nose and lands on your hip. You've been going at this for a while, and you know you're going to be so sore tomorrow.

Your back arches, you were on edge again. Shallow breaths and desperate sighs and the gasp of his name and the clenching of your core and he stops again and you swear you're going to murder him.

"Stop. Fucking. Edging. Me." You gasp out angrily between breaths, and you hiss when his hand wraps around your throat tightly.

"Lose the fucking attitude, baby. You're mine and I can do what I want." He grits out.

He pulls the pillows from below you, so that you're flat on the bed, it makes a good position to cover the entirety of your body with his and then he's back inside you again.

Your ankles lock behind him as he delivers swift thrusts, one hand cups the back of your neck to pull your mouth to his.

You bury your fingernails into his back and he groans into your mouth. You want to leave evidence on his skin that you were here, below him, taking his cock inside you.

He breaks the sloppy kiss to catch a breath, but you barely let him, before you're pulling his mouth back to yours in a heated frenzy.

There it is again. You whine as you get close, your body tightening around his, begging him not to stop.

He takes the message this time, speeding up. Your teeth sink into his bottom lip, your nails grip and scratch along his skin. His cock fucking you open faster and faster until an explosion goes off in your head.

Your scream is silent. Voice too gone to make an actual sound, your body squeezes down on his cock firmly.

He grunts at the feeling, your cunt fluttering around his cock so blissfully he has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from exploding.

It doesn't work, because in the next second you adjust your head to bite down on his shoulder- and the explosion goes off inside him any way.

He fills you right up, all the way to the brim- you can both feel it. The way his spend slips out of your pussy while he's still deep inside you. Billy knows it's the hardest he's ever cum in a while.

And it's all for you.

You both pant, your skin uncomfortably hot, but unwilling to detatch your body from his. His nose brushes yours, the shared breath between you is hot as well, sweltering and likely to become uncomfortable soon.

'I love you,' you say with your eyes, and he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose in a gesture that lets you know that he loves you too.

Finally, he slips out of you, and you get your first breath of Billy-less air, and you sigh when you feel his come begin to dribble out.

You blink suddenly, realising that it's been a week since you took your last pill. You let out a shuddering breath, remembering that the last few days have just been you, being filled with his come over and over again.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing that you've been holding your breath for a little.

Your eyes flit to his concerned ones.

"Yeah...I'm okay." You answer quickly, pretending that you're not in a state of panic. Damn, when was your last period? What if you were-

"Want a bath?" He offers, and you turn to look at him. He links your fingers into his large ones, pulling them to his face to kiss the tips.

Would it be so bad?

"Yes please," you say softly, "A bath would be amazing."

He's careful. Like he always is, gentle to your body after thoroughly sating it. You lean against him, head tilted back on his chest, half asleep in the warm bath. The water makes gentle swiping sounds as he moves, raising his hand to gently trickle warm water over your neck and collabones.

"Billy," you whisper, the thoughts in your head going too wild for you to keep it in, he hums in question.

"We've never spoken about it... but... do you ever want kids?"

He pauses for a long moment. You squeeze your eyes shut, the silence is honey thick and you struggle to breathe while waiting for the answer.

"I've... never thought I could have something like that." He lets out a little laugh, "Hell, I'm probably the last person on earth that deserves that kind of life, and I definitely shouldn't be in charge of a kid, with a head as fucked as mine."

You listen intently, relating to his fears as best as possible.

"I'm not gonna tell you what you are, and what you aren't." You say, turning your head to speak against his neck, "But I know you're a fast learner, and if you wanted something, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to learn." You smile, kissing his neck, "As for deserving, there are worse people out there with families of their own. Don't judge yourself too harshly."

He makes a low hum, one that implies that he doesn't believe you, but he's not dismissing your words either.

"What about you? Do you want kids?" He asks, lips brushing your temple.

Another long moment as you think about your answer.

"It's....scary... not a simple yes or no, I'm terrified of both- having and not having." You reach to link your fingers into his, he squeezes tightly for a moment, "But it's just a little less scary with you."

The corner of his lip rises.

"I can confess one thing though," he murmurs lightly, dropping his hands to grip your hips, you gasp as his fingers press into your sore spots,

"The idea of getting you pregnant, makes me so fucking happy, I just want to fill you up all day long."

You laugh.

"You're insatiable." You comment, with a shake of your head.

"You have me this way, baby." He replies easily.

When you're almost asleep, face pressed into his chest, legs tangled together, he repeats the plan to you.

He's not going to be here when you wake, getting an early start on gathering the money he needs and assessing the meeting point for possible traps. There's a security team monitoring the hotel, so you'll be safe as long as you don't leave unnecessarily. Later tomorrow evening, he'll meet Fisk, and hand off the remaining money and he'll be back before you know it.

He kisses the top of your head and in your sleepy state, you hum something that sounds very similar to 'I love you.'

It makes Billy's heart skip a beat.

~

When you wake at around midday, he's gone as expected.

You stay in the hotel room all day, watching TV and catching up on random news, finding out what you'd missed in the little time you'd been gone.

Around six in the evening, the phone in the room rings, and you click the TV off before reaching for the receiver.

"Hello?" You answer, your heart pounding, unsure of who it might me.

It's the receptionist at the front desk who greets you on the other end.

"There's a Mr. Meachum here, requesting to speak with you." She says casually, as if you don't go rigid.

"Which Meachum?" You ask cautiously.

Ward, she tells you. Ward has found you and is waiting downstairs to speak to you.

Your heart hurts a little, remembering that the last time you were supposed to see him, you left him at the altar instead.

"Can you tell him to wait for me in the restaurant? I'll be down in ten."

She relays the message to him and confirms his acceptance to you.

You hang up, your stomach twisting into knots, the anxiety of facing him again is so strong, the worry of how you've hurt him is visceral, it makes you want to hide.

But you knew you had to face him, you knew that you had to go down there and look him in the eye and apologise for the embarrassment you caused him.

So you stand from the bed, determined to make it up to him in some way.

The elevator opens up to the restaurant on the top floor, a beautiful modern design with large windows to see the sun setting on the city.

Your heart pounds, smiling at the waitress and giving her your information.

You spot Ward, sitting alone at a table for two, sipping on a drink.

He stands when he sees you approaching.

He takes you into a hug when you get close enough, and you allow it, though it's not your favourite feeling.

"I'm so glad to see you're okay." He says, as his arms tighten around you, and you smile.

"I'm glad you're okay too."

You smile at him when you pull away.

"I hope it's alright that I ordered a drink for you," he says, pointing at the fruity drink on your side of the table.

You not at him in appreciation, sliding into your seat, and taking a small sip of the concoction. It's something slightly sour, and you appreciate the flavours.

He takes his seat as well.

There's a moment of silence.

"When you didn't-"

"I'm so sorry that I-"

A pause, filled with shared smiles.

He nods his head, silently indicating for you to speak first.

"I really meant to show up. It- It wasn't my intention to leave you there. I'm sorry if I hurt you in anyway, or made you look... bad, but, in the end, marrying you- it- well- I-" You give him a sad smile, trying to find the words, "I realised it wasn't something that I wanted. I'm sorry for that."

His face is stoic, all harsh lines and even breaths. He nods, sweeping a hand through his hair.

"When you didn't show up at the church, I knew something went wrong. But I was hoping, that it was just jitters, I waited there for hours. And then I found out that you'd disappeared. I spent the last week combing the world for you, hoping you didn't leave me there without a word."

You take another long sip of your drink before speaking.

"I- well- Billy paid my debt and got me out. But it's a good thing too, because- Harold- he tried to have my parents killed."

"That's not true." Ward immediately says, and you look up into his eyes.

You can see it now, something around the edges, something about his appearance is... off. He isn't as put together as he'd like to seem, and you feel like he's a spool about to be unravelled.

Too bad you didn't owe him a single thing.

"I trust Billy with my life." You say firmly, "He told me that Harold tried to kill my parents. They would have died if Billy hadn't gotten them out."

He grips the edges of the table, leaning closer.

"And you believe him? My father was about to pay off your family's entire debt- and you believe some low-level scum like Billy Russo?"

"Ward." You say his name in warning, letting him know you don't appreciate his words or his tone.

He blinks, catching himself, realising that his words have rubbed you the wrong way.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "But, Russo has always had his own interests first. He lied to you, he told you he paid off the debt, and he didn't, he told you that my father tried to harm your family, and that was a lie too."

You bite down on the corner of your lip, deep in thought.

"What does he have to gain from lying?" You ask Ward quietly, afraid of the answer. You lean back, taking another casual sip as if his words will have no effect on you.

"You might not realise it, but your family name has a lot of weight. Even though it's been dragged through the mud in the last couple of years, a combination of our families opens a lot of doors."

You swallow.

"A combination of our families? By that, you mean that fancy clause in our contract to have me pregnant within the year?"

He blinks, "Y/N-"

"-No." You say, "No, I'm sorry Ward, but I think I've heard enough." Your drink hits the table with a quiet sound, "Billy might not be honest with me, but at least I know he wants me for me, and not for whoever's last name I'm carrying." You stand from your seat and he stands too.

"I'm sorry, please, wait." He says, taking a step, reaching for you slowly, but you dodge his hold, walking away from him with a muttered 'Goodbye.'

He doesn't follow.

The emotions are a mess in your head and it sticks in your throat, there's a permanent frown on your face as tears spring to your eyes.

You don't understand why, though. You wish someone would take your brain out, map it, and show you exactly why you felt like crying your eyes out.

Maybe they'd circle a spot, "This is where your trust issues come from," point to another spot while saying, "Your low self worth comes from your body image issues, only reinforced by the fact that your family almost sold you to make babies and look pretty for the rest of your life."

You press your face into your hands, letting out a muffled sob.

You no longer knew what to believe, who to trust but at least you were sure of one thing.

Regardless of his motives, regardless of any lie he's told you, Billy loved you. And he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.

You couldn't wait for him to come back to you, so that maybe you could forgive him for the lies he's told, and admonish him for the lies he would tell in the future.

You smile, shaking your head. No, you couldn't settle for being lied to, no matter how strongly you felt for him.

You begin to feel a little sleepy as the elevator doors open, yawning as you begin to make your way to your room. Your vision swims for a second and you frown, wondering why you feel so tired all of a sudden.

Were you drugged?

You sway, the panic setting in, and your first priority is making it back to your room.

You're at your door when someone calls your name. You look up in surprise, hoping that it's Billy- but it's not- it's Ward, making purposeful strides toward you.

"Ward?" You say confused, squinting at him as your body sags against the door.

He grips your shoulders forcefully, and you try to push at him.

"I think I've been drugged." You murmur, looking into his face, pleading for his help.

"You have." He says ominously and you whimper, realising that it's been him all along.

"Why?" You ask, your knees buckling as your body is forced to relax against your will. You feel so sleepy, you fight to keep your eyes open, pushing at him. Why won't he budge? Your fingers reach up to claw at his cheeks but your hands won't cooperate.

"Why?" He says, and you think he finally shows you his unravelling.

"Because I was promised a wife. And I will have one."

It's the last thing you hear before your vision goes dark.

~

His footsteps echo in the church as he steps in. There are candelabras scattered around the area, he counts them as he counts the pews. He also counts the number of people that are sitting with their heads bowed, praying, and the number of exits.

He sees the back of the marine's head, walking with purposeful steps to him. The marine doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge his presence, doesn't move as he slides into the seat beside him.

He's sure that the marine has counted the same things he has, made a similar assessment of the safety of the surroundings, maybe even knows the approximate number of steps it would take to get to the back exit if the situation requires it.

"Mister Fisk appreciates your cooperation, and sends his regards for not being here in person." He says.

Billy Russo turns to give him a blank stare.

"I suppose everything can't go the way I want," he says.

James Wesley smiles.

"I suppose not." He responds.

~

You wake with a groan, your head is swimming, packed with cotton, preventing you from forming a thought.

Where? What? How?

You can't find any answers.

Another deep breath and you open your eyes a little.

Your vision is blurry at first, but you recognise the surroundings of a hotel room, just not your hotel room.

You're lying on the bed, pressed against someone who is petting your hair softly.

You sit up suddenly in shock, swaying as you turn to look at the person. Something else draws your attention at the same time, and you look down to find that your hands have been cuffed together. You tug at them experimentally.

"Just in time," Ward says, sitting up, and you squint at him, trying to figure out exactly where everything went south.

"You drugged me." You say to him accusingly.

"Yes. I did." He acknowledges, sitting up easily.

He's changed into something different, a dark tuxedo with a black bow tie around his neck.

"Do you like it?" He asks, looking down at the suit, "It's the exact same one I was wearing the first time. I tried to get you the same dress, but I got something that was easier for you to get into by yourself.

He stands, and you just look at him, eyes following his movements as he grabs a garment bag lying over the small couch. He unzips the bag, tugging a wedding dress free.

You can't focus on any of the details of the dress- not the beading or the neckline, in your hazy state  none of it makes sense to you.

"Put it on." Ward says.

"No." You answer.

"I'm not asking." He tosses the dress beside you on the bed.

"I'm still not putting that on." You struggle to say something witty with such a cloudy head.

He takes a step forward, and you scramble back, slipping off the bed and backing away from him on shaky feet. When you try to get to the door, he intercepts your move- pressing you back against the wall.

"I don't have time for this." He says angrily and you seethe along with him.

"Fuck you." You spit at him.

The slap is sudden. You barely register the sound of it, your head is turned to the side, as your cheek screams in pain.

Did he really just hit you?

"I can't believe I ever defended you." You whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

"Karen once suggested you might hurt me, and I told her you weren't like that."

You raise your hand to touch your stinging cheek, it's tender and hot to the touch.

"You'd be mad too, if you were left at the altar to be laughed at by the entire city."

You swallow, looking up at him, fully awake now with the pain and adrenaline coursing through your system.

"You're delusional." You whisper with conviction.

"And you're not getting it. If you don't put that dress on, then I have no use for you." He leans forward, getting into your space and you grimace with disgust at the feel of his body pressed to yours.

"Do you know what I do with useless things, Y/N? I throw them away."

You wish for his death when your eyes meet his next. He smiles, raising a hand to cup your face, his fingers pressing painfully into the spot where he hit you. You don't make a sound, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your pain.

"Get dressed." He says, stepping away from you finally.

~

James Wesley is appraising the contents of the briefcase for authenticity when the church doors open, and several footsteps can be heard.

Billy doesn't look back, he'd anticipated a move like this. And honestly, it might be exactly what he needs to get his plan back into action.

Harold Meachum steps into his peripherals. James closes the briefcase, looking up at said man, knowing James, there's only vague curiosity painted on his features.

"Sorry to interrupt your business, boys, but I have business of my own I'd like to take care of."

Billy is just, downright tired of looking at Harold's face, bored with this man's entire endeavour into making himself more powerful when he can hardly manage the power he currently holds.

"James, would you please call Mr. Fisk and tell him that is audience is requested?"

James doesn't hesitate.

"My apologies, Harold, but Mr. Fisk does not deal-" he pauses his sentence when Harold draws a gun, pointing it at James' head.

There's a moment of tense silence.

"Very well." Wesley says, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.

Billy listens to half of the conversation, unable to hear any of Fisk's responses. James lets him know that an urgent matter has arisen that requires his presence, and that Harold Meachum will not accept no for an answer.

When James ends the call, he informs that Wilson will be here within the hour.

"Excellent!" Harold says, reaching to take the briefcase seated on James' lap, "That's just enough time to have a wedding in the meantime."

Billy's stomach drops.

It drops even lower when he sees the younger Meachum, Ward, step up to the altar.

"Now, if either of you move from here, the man sitting behind you is going to shoot you in the head."

Billy turns to look at the man. One of Meachum's bodyguards sitting in the pew behind, he's large, maybe even larger than Frank, which means he's probably slower. A mistake on Harold's part to have this man guard him. The other five or six people that were here before are being shuffled into the other room.

He watches a priest, step up slowly to the altar, he raises his hands, and then the doors at the back open with a slow groan.

Billy almost doesn't want to look. He knows what he's going to see. It fills him with murderous rage. He watches Ward's smug face instead, a man that looks like he's already won, as an unwilling bride walks down the aisle toward him.

He knows when he sees you there, the shock, and rage and fear of it all with sear like lightning down his skin.

Billy waits until the very last moment to turn and look at you.

He can't see much of your face, covered by the thick veil, but he can see the tremble of your hands as you hold the bouquet and Billy decides, that he's going to wipe the Meachum line off the face of the earth.

.

.

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A/N: Heeyyyyyy guyssssssss, how are we doing?