hi, i'm syd, welcome to my writing blog (on break till sep)! currently marvel, dc and cm. feel free to like, comment, or reblog if you enjoy something, it genuinely makes my day 𑣲⋆ inbox and asks are always open!
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maria hill ⋆ carol danvers ⋆ valkyrie (brunnhilde)
summary: having your boss, emily prentiss, almost see you naked was the worst of it right? wrong, for the profiler in her made you admit words you’d never thought you’d say. / where the reader unintentionally confesses to emily
content warnings: body dysmorphia, sh scars, panic attack, anxiety, no use of y/n
word count: 6k
//
you couldn’t breathe. you hate your body. it won’t ever change.
the mirror has never been kind to you, much less the current one in the hotel bathroom with shitty lighting. poking and prodding and watching your skin deform instead of getting in the shower. the figure- your figure- the flab hanging off and oh god, it feels like an icy tentacle writhing into your chest and squeezing around your heart. you just wanted to smash the stupid mirror.
the case had been horrible, and you didn’t even know where to start. it had been horrific, flaring up memories you had deliberately forgotten, and did you already mention triggering? during times like these, flashbacks of just the sheer iniquity and immorality of the perpetrator curdle the blood running in your veins. to share the same genetic structure as something that rots the very idea of humanity, that becomes a writhing thing filled with vice, a vengeful devil or sin given shape?
to make matters worse, you hadn’t even caught the guy. you were going home whether you liked it or not. decidedly not because the unsub was still out there. you were here. stuck in this stupidly small hotel room whose walls felt increasingly like they were closing in on you. heightening your sense of claustrophobia.
your jaw ached, you’d been clenching it so long you hadn’t noticed. the bathroom was quiet, time having lost its concept. how long had you been staring into the hollow figure in the mirror? with a litany of scars mapped across, disfiguring your skin. some self inflicted.
you were on the verge of a panic attack. it was obvious now. you had been, the entire day. maybe that was why you were so stupid to leave the door unlocked.
and that was how emily prentiss, your boss, who you were sharing a room with caught you in the bathroom. naked in front of the shower, quickly raising the towel trying to hide your body, the scars on your skin, and just everything.
this definitely wasn’t helping your panic either.
fuck.
the panic begins to wrap its arms around you like a shadow. every thought dissolving before it could form, nothing holding still long enough to be coherent. the kind of drowning where you forget how to breathe. cold creeping up on you as little shivers wrack your body, clutching onto the towel haphazardly wrapped around you like a lifeline.
a beat passed.
“h-hi em?”
you could hear your own heart pounding in your ears. emily's voice softens, her eyes glancing away for a second, respecting your space, not pushing. she kept her tone steady but gentle.
"hey... it's okay. i'm just grabbing my toothbrush." she nods toward the door like she might leave if you wanted her to. "cold in here, huh? you need anything?"
surprisingly, there were no demands. no lingering on the scars or the towel clutched too tight. she’s behaving… well surprisingly regular, the sense of normalcy slowly grounding you back to earth if not for what looks like a foolish situation. embarrassing too, what would she think of your naked body?
“n-no, could you please knock next time?”
"of course. sorry." it's a sincere apology, not defensive in any way, just an acknowledgement of your request. with that, she grabbed her toothbrush, gave you a respectful nod, and started to head out.
again, you notice that even her eyes never linger. they meet yours, and then look away, giving you space. a small gesture that says a lot.
what does she think of you now? is she disgusted by how your near naked anatomy looks. or, would she ever like it? the thought creeps in silently, an imposter to the self consciousness burning brightly. embarrassingly red, like poppies in the springtime.
you’re conscious as emily pauses at the doorway, her grip tightening slightly on the doorknob. she doesn’t turn back, still giving you space, but her voice is firm.
"hey."
there’s a beat of silence.
"you're not getting out of this case that easy. i need you sharp tomorrow."
there’s no pity in it, just a demand from your superior. but there's something underneath too, an unspoken "i'm not letting go until i know you're okay."
it’s nice to know she cares. congratulations, you’re not a failure with no one to love you after all. you give her an easy grin, the smile not reaching your eyes.
“yeah, i’m never escaping your evil clutches prentiss.” bau for life, apparently. you either work long enough to retire or die in action. maybe you should’ve gone for an easier department.
an unexpected laugh slips through her professional exterior and the corner of her mouth twitches.
"damn right, you're not. and you're stuck with me." she glances back one more time, this time with the hint of a smirk before fully disappearing, shutting the door behind her.
you flush slightly, was it wrong to think of how absurdly hot she just was?
you don’t get in the shower for another few minutes. you aren’t sure why. it felt a little different now, though you couldn't name why. maybe all you needed to get out of the cycle of self loathing was a dose of emily prentiss. a familiar cure-all.
eventually, you stepped in, letting the warm water trickle around you. comfort seeping into your bones, the exhaustion of the day- all the stress and panic drifting away at the shore.
/
meanwhile, emily continues with her nighttime routine, changing into her sleepwear, the whole time trying to push away her concern for you. she knows you need your space, and she's been here long enough to know pushing before you're ready is... counterproductive.
she settles cross-legged on the bed, reading through some case files but her mind isn't there, not completely. her gaze drifts to the closed bathroom door now and then.
you finish showering and emerge in pyjamas, a long sleeve top and pants. she knows now, why you always wear long sleeves even in the sweltering heat of summer. to cover up the scars.
emily looks up as you exit, her gaze flickering over you, noting the choice of long sleeves but there’s no judgement, just observation. her fingers skim idly over the pages of her case file, the words blending together.
her voice, when she speaks, is gentle, but not coddling. she knows you're not one for pity. never one for pity.
"feeling better?"
“yeah.”
emily nods at that, the worry still etched in her eyes but hidden well underneath her professional facade.
"good." she sets the file aside, leaning back on the bed, arms crossed. there's a pause, a moment where she seems torn, like she's debating saying something else. you know the look, that calculated silence where she's weighing her words.
you finish drying your hair and get onto your side of the bed. emily watches as you settle into your side of the bed, her gaze flickering over you again for a moment. it's subtle, but she's studying your movements, your expression, checking in without making it obvious, like she always does. it's her way of caring, her way of being protective without overstepping.
she picks up the case file again, skimming over the pages, even though her attention isn't really there. a few moments of silence pass before she speaks again, voice low.
"you know, if you need to talk…”
“emily. i'm fine” you gave her a short and curt response.
emily glances up, eyes locking with yours, her expression a mixture of disbelief and a hint of frustration behind it.
"bullshit," she mutters, the curse more a sigh than an actual expletive. "you're not fine. don't feed me that crap."
she sets the file aside, focusing all her attention on you, leaning forward, the concern in her eyes unmistakable.
"i know how you are. i know your body language. hell, i know you."
guess who decided to play profiler after hours? apparently your favourite boss.
“just stressed about the case that's all.”
emily studies your facade, the slight tightening of her jaw the only indication of her internal debate. she's clearly torn between respect for your boundaries and her instinct to push until you drop the act. the latter wins in the end. she sighs, moving closer, sitting closer to you.
"you're a bad liar. always have been."
totally not true. you just happen to be placed in the midst of top profilers who can smell the hint of a lie a mile away. ravenous hounds chasing after meat. she crosses her arms again, a habit when she's thinking, a physical barrier.
"stressed my ass. something more's going on."
you sigh, “i hate profilers.”
the irony of you being one. still, it isn’t a pleasant experience being on the receiving end of the interview.
that gets a huff from emily, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. she's not surprised by your reaction, she knows you hate being read, being scrutinized. it's the same way she is.
but right now, she's the profiler, and she's profiling the hell out of you. she shifts closer, not invading your space, but definitely narrowing the gap between you two.
"tough. i'm too goddamn good at my job to not notice when one of my best agents is struggling."
you looked up at her with a little surprise, no longer avoiding her gaze, “i'm your best?”
emily smirks at that, the corner of her mouth turning up in a half-smile. she raises an eyebrow, a mix of sarcasm and seriousness in her tone.
"damn right you are."
she doesn't hesitate, not when her confidence in your skills is unyielding, unshakeable.
"you've always been a natural. sharp as a goddamn knife and smart enough to give me a run for my money."
emily's smirk fades slightly as she studies your silence. she tilts her head, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. maybe frustration, maybe concern.
"hey." her voice is firm but not sharp. "don't do that thing where you shut down on me. if i crossed a line, say it."
she leans back just enough to give you space but keeps her gaze locked on yours, challenging without being aggressive. the line was crossed ages ago, back when she nearly saw you naked in the bathroom. still you say nothing, do nothing. for this is emily we’re talking about. sweet angel emily, the one who always looks out for you. she could order you to jump and you'd do so in a heartbeat.
you sigh softly and reassure her, “you didn't, you could never emily.”
emily exhales through her nose, part frustration, part something softer. she rubs a hand over her face before dropping it to the mattress between you. she recognises that tone.
"i don't want to be your superior right now." her voice is low, edged with an intensity that isn't quite anger. "not when you're sitting there looking at me like i just kicked your puppy."
a beat of silence stretches as she searches for the right words, then: "just tell me what's wrong. for real this time."
you look at her with a little surprise. honesty, is such a simple yet precious thing. emily holds your gaze, her expression open and sincere. she's dropped all pretense now, no more boss, no more agent prentiss. it's just her, looking at you with oceans of concern that can't be hidden.
her hand twitches near yours on the bed but she doesn't quite reach out. letting you decide how close you want her right now.
"please." the simple word hangs heavily between you, pleading and firm all at once. she wants to help.
you pause, and tease lightly “is that begging i hear?”
emily rolls her eyes almost instinctively at the teasing, but there's no heat behind it. she knows what you're doing. trying to divert, to deflect. she sees right through it.
"oh please." she scoffs, leaning closer with an eyebrow raised in challenge. "we both know i don't beg."
“i don't either”
unless she really wanted you to. but you were too prideful to ever tell her that.
emily laughs softly at that, the tension in her shoulders loosening somewhat. the sound is warm, almost amused.
"touché."
she shifts her position, drawing one leg up onto the bed, facing you fully now, knees almost brushing against yours.
"stubborn, the both of us." she says in a tone that's almost affectionate.
“cheers.”
emily's smirk deepens, the ghost of a real smile tugging at her lips. picks up her bottle by the bed.
"to stubbornness." her voice is dry as she raises the water bottle higher in salute. "may it never stop keeping us alive."
a beat passes before she adds, quieter: "...or get you killed first."
it's a joke, obviously, but the undercurrent of concern is there. she knows you too well not to worry. her gaze flicks over your face once more before her expression softens again.
"speaking of..." she hesitates, weighing her words like she does when she's treading on thin ice.
you don’t like where this is going.
“no thank you?” trying to cut the conversation short.
emily rolls her eyes again, but this time they're fond, almost affectionate. her hand finding yours under the covers and giving it a brief squeeze. her touch lingers just for a moment, the warmth of it seeping into your skin before she slowly pulls back. you can still feel the phantom of the touch, the loss of her warmth nearly affecting you.
"happy now?"
“i- what was that for?”
emily's gaze narrows slightly, just for a second, as if she's debating whether to pull away or double down. she settles on the latter.
"for this," she mutters, her voice rough but not angry. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in an unconscious gesture of reassurance. "because you keep pretending you're fine when i can see right through it."
a pause, and then quieter: "...and because i don't like seeing you hurt."
you hum.
emily doesn't miss the noncommittal sound you make, the slight twitch of your fingers under hers. it's another sign, a hint that you're not as okay as you'd like to pretend to be.
"don't hm me," she says gruffly, shaking her head. "you're not doing a very good job convincing me that you're fine."
her grip tightens almost involuntarily around your hand again.
“what should i do then?”
how could you lie to her better? how can she teach you what to do, what to say, to finally ease her worries and concerns?
emily exhales through her nose, a mix of frustration and something softer. she shifts closer, deliberate, not intrusive.
"tell me the truth." her voice is low, steady. "not your case file version. not the 'fine' you keep throwing at me like a shield."
her thumb traces idle circles over your knuckles, grounding without demanding. "you don't have to fix it tonight. just say it out loud so i know where to start."
“i-”
emily reads your hesitation like a book. she gives your hand another squeeze, encouraging nonverbal support. her thumb continues its idle rhythm, the motion almost soothing. she doesn't push, doesn't force. just gives you the space to gather your thoughts while letting you know she's there.
"i'm listening," she offers gently. "take your time."
you get lost in her eyes for a moment. the rich chocolatey ocean tempting you into getting lost. she could be a siren and you’d jump straight into her lure. you relent.
“'s really just the case em. it's stressful. think i was on the verge of a panic attack today then i'm overstimulated in this claustrophobic room sharing a bed with you and- you saw me naked and- “
as you start to speak, emily listens intently, her grip on your hand tightening just marginally at your words. her expression is focused, taking everything in with the practiced attention of a profiler. she catches the edge of panic in your voice, the slight trembling you're probably trying to hide. it sets off an alarm bell her head and her heart but she pushes that aside for now, letting you finish.
when you mention the bathroom incident, her brow creases slightly.
it clicks. the picture starts to form in her head. the case, the stress, the panic attack, the overstimulation...
her eyes flicker over your face, not pitying, but understanding. she may not know the details, but she knows the feeling. her hand tightens around yours again, steadying.
"hey, hey. breathe." her voice, though quiet, is firmer than before.
she shifts even closer, until there's hardly any gap between you on the bed. "focus on me."
you try to breathe and look away from her in a slight panic “c-close.”
emily notices the way you avoid her gaze, the way you look away. she knows avoidance intimately. it's a familiar pattern.
at your words, she moves even closer, until her knee brushes yours under the covers. her body is angled towards you, a solid presence in the space between. her hand remains holding yours, grounding without overwhelming.
"close your eyes." her voice is steady, quiet but commanding.
you panic. she’s not making it better. in fact, “em-”
emily feels the tension in your body, sees the panic flashing across your face. her grip on you tightens not to restrain, but to anchor.
"breathe," she orders again, her voice low and firm. "just breathe with me."
she exaggerates her own inhale through her nose, deep and slow, then exhales through pursed lips. reminds you of a yoga instructor guiding your breathing. her free hand lifts slightly toward you as if considering touching a shoulder or arm for grounding but hesitates at the last second.
you take a deep breath, mimicking the one she showed you.
emily watches the rise and fall of your chest, a silent marker of your breathing. it's steadier now, not perfect, but better than moments before.
she matches your pace, slowing her breathing to match your inhalations and exhalations. her hand on yours, still holding, is warm. a counterpoint to the cold, sterile hotel room.
"there you go." her voice is still low, quiet encouragement. "just like that. keep breathing."
“i- emily..”
no. she doesn’t get it. that’s not what you wanted. why is she always so kind to you? her proximity is only going to make things worse-
emily feels the hitch in your breath, sees the way you tense. her grip on your hand loosens slightly- not retreating, but adjusting to give you space while still keeping contact.
"hey." her voice drops lower now, calm but with intent. "i'm right here. not going anywhere."
she shifts her weight forward just enough to nudge her knee against yours under the covers, a small pressure point of grounding without overwhelming touch. you sigh in surrender.
“that's kinda the problem. i'm still mortified you saw me naked by the way and-”
emily doesn’t flinch. instead, she leans in slightly- deliberate and unapologetic.
"good." her voice is rough but not cruel. "you should be. i saw the scars."
a pause as her eyes lock onto yours, there’s no pity, just stark honesty. "the ones you keep hiding under sleeves and layers like they're something to be ashamed of."
“y-you're a little too close”
there it is again- the denial and avoidance.
this time, she doesn't move back and holds her ground. her knee is still touching yours under the covers, becoming a steady point of contact that grounds you in the present.
"i've been closer." she says this with a hint of that familiar smirk but her eyes don't leave yours. "we've shared a bed before."
“you-”
emily feels the hitch in your breath, sees the way you stiffen. she doesn't back off, doesn't retreat.
"you what?" her voice is quiet but unyielding, her gaze steady on yours. "finish that sentence."
she shifts closer again. not enough to crowd you, but just enough to make it clear she's not letting this go either. her fingers flex around yours under the covers.
“you’re not helping.”
you blurt out quickly
“me get over a tiny crush on you”
that came out wrong. like a word vomit. and you certainly had no plans to ever voice that out to her, or anyone for the matter. but it’s too late.
the confession hangs in the air. time seems to slow down as emily processes what you just said. she goes still, her hand gripping yours beneath the covers not quite frozen, but taken off guard.
her eyes are unreadable for a moment. she doesn't speak, taking a second to gather her own thoughts. finally, she exhales and her expression softens almost imperceptibly.
"of all the times you could've told me, you chose now…?" she asks, not angry, just a mixture of disbelief and... something else.
“you were- you are overwhelming me”
not the fact that you couldn’t keep your infatuation hidden anymore. building up like waves crashing over your grave. emily blinks. the bluntness of your words takes her off guard for a moment, but she recovers quickly. her hand on yours squeezes gently, a small gesture of understanding.
"right." she exhales again, the breath almost like a chuckle, though it lacks humor. she studies you, eyes roaming over your face like the profiler she is.
"well. that explains… a lot, actually."
what?
emily's gaze doesn't waver. she tilts her head slightly, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
"the way you act around me. the way you're trying so damn hard to get away right now... you're not just uncomfortable because i saw you naked."
there’s a pause as her eyes take in your expression, the slight shift in your breathing while she connects the dots.
"it's because you have a crush on me."
“i- give me some space please em?”
it’s overwhelming. you can’t do this. how could someone so cowardly every confess their feelings to their crush, their boss, no less? and now that she’s aware, what would she think of you?
emily hesitates, her grip on your hand tightening reflexively for a second. she's torn for a moment, a war going on in her mind between respect for your request and her own desire to keep the contact but she knows better than to force that on you right now.
"yeah. okay."
she lets go of your hand reluctantly and shifts back, putting a few more inches between you on the bed. emily sees the way you eye her warily, knows you're watching her movements like a scared animal. it's a familiar sight. you're trying to put up walls again, trying to hide.
she settles herself against the headboard, not crossing her arms but instead keeping an open and unthreatening body language. for a moment, she just watches you, eyes taking in your expression, your body language, every detail.
"i'm not gonna bite you, you know." she deadpans.
you bite back “we’re sharing a bed.”
a hint of that familiar smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes remain focused on you.
"yeah, we are." she says this almost casually, like she's commenting on the weather, not on the fact that you're both lying barely a foot apart in the same bed.
another pause as she considers her next words. "is that bothering you?"
“i- guess it's not helping my situation?”
emily snorts quietly at that, her smirk deepening a fraction. she can imagine your internal struggle, trying to deal with a crush on your boss while also trying to avoid an anxious spiral, all while lying inches apart in a bed that's too small.
"fair." she remarks dryly, folding her legs, one knee slightly bent. her eyes skim over you briefly, taking in the tension in your shoulders, the slight tremble in your hands.
"you're shivering." it's a simple fact, said so matter-of-fact that it has no emotional charge to it. she doesn't reach out to touch you, but the concern is there in her eyes, beneath the exterior of a professional.
she hesitates for a brief second, then: "come here."
“no.”
emily's mouth quirks slightly at your immediate refusal. she should've expected that. you're too stubborn for your own good. she rolls her eyes, almost fondly.
"come on, just get over here." her voice is a little sharper now, more commanding without being harsh. "you're cold and shaking. there's a simple solution to that."
it’s almost pathetic how weak you are to her commands, a dog on her leash.
you say uncertainly, “to turn up the thermostat?”
that is solving the situation at its roots and is clearly the optimal solution. but emily somehow huffs a laugh under her breath. you're being difficult on purpose, she knows that.
"or you could just let me warm you up." she replies, dryly. "it's an easier solution."
“you-you” stutter. you’re flustered, and well aware you’re not even hiding it anymore. how can she be so bold with the words she utter? does she not know she’s sending you into an existential crisis?
emily lets out another sigh, the sound almost fond in a way. you're just like a stubborn dog sometimes, cute, but also maddening. she keeps her expression steady, not quite amused but not entirely cold, just somewhere in-between.
"just scoot a little closer. i'm warmer than the thermostat." she pats the space beside her, the offer open. her voice is low, almost coaxing. "come. here."
you shift just the tiniest bit closer. you have always been weak to persuasion.
emily lets out a quiet, amused breath. she's not surprised you only moved an inch. you're still resisting, but at least you're not full-on bolting anymore.
"there we go," she murmurs approvingly as her arm shifts slightly to leave room for you between the sheets. "not so hard, is it?"
you nearly preen at the praise.
her body heat seeps into the space around her as she waits, not pushing further unless you do first.
you begin slowly “i'm not asking you to reply, gods, but um, what are your thoughts on the situation?”
emily tilts her head, considering your carefully-worded request. so you wanted her thoughts on this rather absurd situation, huh? she almost laughs, but manages to keep a straight face.
"my thoughts, huh?" she echoes, her lips twitching with the effort it takes to hold back a smirk. the urge to tease you is strong, powerful, but she pushes it down.
she takes a moment to choose her words. she knows you want honesty, and she's always prided herself on being truthful even if it hurts.
"well, first and foremost, i'm thinking you're being an idiot." she says it bluntly, not bothering to sugarcoat it. she's not great at sugarcoating anyway.
"you have this whole crush thing going on, and instead of telling me, you bury yourself in panic mode." she pauses, then "and you're shivering. like, you're shaking like a leaf. you know what that does to my protective instinct, right?"
you feel a curl of defensiveness rising “i-”
emily studies you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then she lets out a slow breath, almost exasperated.
"you're impossible." the words are gruff but not unkind. her fingers flex against the sheets between you, like she's resisting the urge to reach out again.
she leans in just slightly, not enough to invade your space further, but enough that you can't miss it. "but if i say 'no' right now... will that actually make this easier for either of us?"
“y-yes?”
emily's eyes narrow slightly at your response. she can't tell if you're just being stubborn or genuinely afraid. knowing you, probably a little bit of both.
"i can tell you're lying." she counters, not accusing but not backing down either. "don't bullshit me, okay? we both know you'll keep up this stubborn denial for as long as you can. hell, you'll probably still try to run after i've told you this. but let's be clear about one thing."
emily exhales through her nose. part frustration, part something softer. she studies your face for a long moment before finally muttering,
"fuck it."
without warning, she closes the distance between you two and presses her forehead against yours. it's not quite a kiss, but close enough to make your breath hitch.
"there," she murmurs, "now we're both screwed."
you’re as red as a cherry, blood rushing through your cheeks. “you're supposed to say no or help me get over you, n-not-”
emily almost grins. you're adorable when you're stunned into silence, your brain going into overdrive just trying to process what's happening. it's kind of amusing. but right now, she's focused, intent.
"help you get over me?" she repeats, her breath brushing warm across your face. she's so close you can almost taste her, the familiar hint of coffee she drinks like it's water.
"what if i don't want to help you get over me?"
“em-”
emily ignores your half-strangled protest. she's not going to back off now. instead, her free hand shifts to rest against the side of your face. the touch surprisingly gentle, her thumb tracing lightly over your skin as if trying to memorize your features.
her eyes lock onto yours, intense, unflinching. her voice drops, low and smooth in that velvet tone you adore. it's almost a whisper, yet the sound reverberates between you like a gunshot.
"what if i want the opposite?"
you looks at her wide eyed,
“oh.”
emily's smirk deepens as she studies your wide-eyed expression. the air between you crackles with something unspoken- tense and electric.
"yeah. oh." she echoes, her voice rough at the edges. "that’s usually the reaction i get when i do this."
her thumb brushes over your lower lip just once, testing, before she pulls back slightly to watch how you unravel in real time.
“you're my boss-”
emily almost laughs, but she restrains herself just in time. the irony of your words isn't lost on her, she's your boss, you're scared, and you're sharing a bed. it's a recipe for disaster. and yet...
"i know." she says, her eyes not leaving yours. "that's exactly why you're trying so damn hard not to react, right? because i'm your boss."
emily feels the way you tense, sees the unspoken what now? in your frozen posture. she exhales through her nose, amused but not cruel.
"breathe," she reminds you, voice rough with something that isn't quite pity. "unless you want me to kiss that panic right out of your system?"
her thumb drags over your jaw again and there’s just a hint of pressure this time. a test.
“i-”
never in your wildest dreams would you even believe this was happening. emily prentiss, threatening to kiss you? yes please.
emily sees the panicked flash in your eyes, the way your mind struggles to catch up with the current situation. she almost takes pity on you, you look like a deer in headlights, frozen and wide-eyed.
"hey." she says your name, not sharp but firm. her hand moves to gently cup your jaw, keeping your gaze locked on hers. "just breathe. nothing's going to happen you don't want to happen."
you let out a breath, “okay.”
emily relaxes fractionally as you exhale, a shaky, ragged sound. you're still trying to process it, but at least you're not completely on the verge of hyperventilating.
"there." she comments approvingly, her fingers gently stroking over your jawline in a soothing gesture. "now you can form actual words. good girl."
her thumb brushes over your bottom lip again, not quite demanding yet, but close. "got anything else for me?"
“h-hi. you like me too?” you squeak out shyly.
that finally gets a quiet laugh from emily. the sound is both amused and fond, as if she's finally getting through to you.
"took you long enough." she mutters, almost teasing. her thumb still traces idle circles over your jaw, a soothing rhythm as she tilts her head to study your expression.
"but yes, i like you," she confirms, her voice low. "and that's a bit of a problem."
you nod in agreement, and it feels almost like an observer to this absurd play.
emily's eyes flick over your face, taking in your expression. you still look a little overwhelmed, but the panic's been replaced by something else. vulnerability, maybe. she sighs quietly, her thumb still tracing a slow path over your jaw in a silent assurance.
"it's a problem, because we're not supposed to be doing this," she comments, the edge of irritation clear in her voice. "you're my subordinate. and we work together. and we're currently in a hotel in the middle of god-knows-where in georgia, sharing a bed."
you nod “mhm.” a little too far gone and taken with her to fully process what she’s saying.
emily huffs a breath through her nose, the sound almost amused. you're still processing, she can see it in the way your eyes dart over her face like you're searching for confirmation.
"you don't have to look so shell-shocked," she mutters, though there's no real bite to it. "we've shared worse moments than this."
her hand shifts from your jaw to briefly ruffle your hair, a fleeting gesture of affection before she pulls back slightly.
“we have?”
emily pauses, her smirk fading slightly as she processes your reaction. she studies you for a moment, reading the surprise, maybe even disbelief in your expression.
"yeah." her voice is firm now. "like that time in chicago when i had to drag you out of a collapsing building. or when we got shot at during surveillance and i pulled you behind cover."
she leans closer again, not threateningly but pointedly. "we've risked our lives for each other before today. this isn't new territory for us."
“it's different. we're a team, we all risk our lives for each other.”
emily snorts quietly, a sound halfway between frustration and humor. you're not wrong, but her point still stands.
"i get that. hell, i'm the one preaching teamwork." she gives you a pointed look, a hint of a grin tugging at her lips. "but we both know there's a difference between risking your life for a teammate and what's happening right now."
you’ve had enough of this, feeling like the cpu of your brain has overheated and gone beyond overdrive. devoid of shame or embarrassment, you burrow yourself into her in an attempt to escape from this conversation. and not at all to enjoy her warmth or the feel of her against-
emily goes still at the unexpected movement, eyes widening for a moment before she slowly relaxes. she can't stop the way a huff of breath escapes her, something between a sigh and a laugh. it seems like she's finally gotten through to you.
"jesus. you're so stubborn." despite the complaint, there's a touch of fondness in her voice as she wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her. she lets you bury yourself against her without protest.
“good night em”
emily's breath hitches at the sudden contact, her body stiffening for a split second before she melts into it. her arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you tighter against her as if to make sure you can't escape.
"christ," she mutters under her breath, half exasperated, half something far warmer. "you're lucky i'm too tired to argue with this."
her chin drops onto your head lightly. the silence stretches between you two heavy but not uncomfortable anymore. she exhales slowly through her nose and finally settles in. this is something she’ll definitely make you settle in the morning.
for now, she places her palm on your back, gently splaying her palm across it to rub soothingly up and down before she speaks with an even softer voice.
“sleep tight.”
her name hanging from your lips like the gardens of babylon, a soft murmur before you drift off.
I have an unreleased maria hill smut among several unfinished fanfics but I need to work a bit more on the descriptions 🫣 #terrified to release my first smut so we'll see
Carol danvers is your father’s most talented retainer. Left in the manor to raise you, whilst your father and his knights stationed themselves in the northern castle, defending the borders from monster attacks. She has never mistreated you nor witheld any of your rightful wealth, just... kept her distance. And you, the frail princess, had recently arisen from a coma, unconscious for three days.
“I was very worried.”
You could see the dark shadows beneath her eyes, looking like she hasn’t slept in days.
For a moment you blanked, surprised at her concern.
“Carol.” you looked at her and opened your arms.
“Hug me.”
She averted her eyes but you could see the hint of a smile on her face.
“You’re quite the spoiled one, aren’t you?”
You hugged her back.
“Becuase you’re my mama.”
“How did you manage to hide such spoiled behaviour all this time?” she teased softly.
“But… that’s because everyone liked it when I was sensible.
If I cry, throw a tantrum or act stubborn… you might find it annoying and not want to see me anymore.”
Her hand that was in your hair flinched and you could feel the tension growing again.
…my lady.”
she let out, squeezing you tighter into her embrace.
“No, y/n.”
You could feel her head drooping by your side and her voice was dejected
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Just… everything.”
“For making you feel lonely, for leaving you by yourself, for not noticing you, for hurting you…
For just all of it…”
She moved back, her face clearly visible and looking into your eyes seriously.
You blinked.
“Carol.”
“...”
“I’m okay.
“Really. So don’t make that kind of face.”
“And besides, you won’t do that anymore.
Right?”
“Yes. I am deeply reflecting on my actions.”
“Because…” You could see the faint tinge of a blush on her cheeks
“I am your… mom.”
She’s usually prickly, sensitive and strict to the bone, that was the Carol you know. But this? To think that the same Carol…
You hugged her again joyfully
“Mom!!!”
She let out a soft grunt at the impact, catching you in her arms.
sneak peak of one of my fic ideas!! (I'm trying my best not to write until after my exams)
She, who breathes life into every sentence, will never know how it feels like to be me. but even for just a short moment, I want to try believing that we could work.
Carol danvers, who shines brighter than the sun.
“I don’t like you.” yet you somehow looked like a kicked puppy when you said the words.
She gave a bright warm grin, with a short laugh.
“It doesn’t matter.
Because I like you.”
Everytime you see her smile, shining down on you like the midsummer sun, you can’t help but think, ‘it feels like you’ll be burned alive’ or ‘maybe this is what it feels like to find peace’.
The truth is,
maybe you have been running away from this very moment all this time?
★ diana prince x reader; you have trouble going to bed
you spot a small crease of worry on her face, resisting the urge to smooth the furrow. diana prince, in all her might and glory, hovering over you.
"why can't you fall asleep agapi mou?"
its tendrils avoiding you, refusing to bring you into sleep's warm embrace. it had been several nights now, you found yourself in bed but unable to fall asleep. instead, distracting your mind from all wonder of things in any way you can, mostly by reading.
now that diana had noticed, she couldn't let this continue anymore. not when exhaustion had taken its toll, its roots enroached on your soul, visible in both your physical appearance and your behaviour.
diana blinked at you, the concern on her face clearly visible now.
you didn't answer. you couldn't. for you weren't exactly sure what caused this bout of insomnia. call it the stress, of upcoming exams. or maybe all the thoughts and feelings you had been suppressing since you were little, pretending that everything was- no, is okay and that you didn't care. you didn't want to spiral again or explore parts of yourself that you barely knew existed.
you didn't care for all the heavy expectations put on you, the weight crushing your back. the only daughter, single handedly nurtured by her. or for the emotional abuse or off handed comments loved ones had made, expecting you to forget after. forget what you have suffered, forget what you have felt. forgive and forget, for at the end of the day, it was family right?
or simply for the darkness that had appeared one day. slowly pervading your thoughts. maybe it was when you started to shed your naivety on the goodness of mankind, that they could be so cruel to one another. and certainly the current state of the world, the clownery was not helping. really, you adore that diana sees the best in people, and you try your best too, and are considered definitely more on the naive side but sometimes the pessimism creeps up on you.
it would've been better if you hadn't done that. and instead followed the idealised version in your head, a picturesque movie of a daydream. regrets upon regrets. you could've done better. wasted potential. you could've been something, but you're not.
what happens after death? would it be a relief, or selfish to leave this world alone? to bring grief upon the very one who raised you, who put all her effort into loving you and perfecting you.
you sighed softly, looking into diana's eyes. you swear you could see the flecks of gold shimmering, like stardust. a reminder of her divinity.
instead, you gently pulled her on top of you. the tensions relieved slightly by her presence. diana was very careful not to crush you, arms braced upon the sides of your head like a plank. you could see the amusement in her expression, mirth at how accepting you were of her affection. she had always been a physically affectionate person.
diana prince, or diana of themyscira had always been painfully perceptive. her precocious nature bringing her to excel, even as a child. competing against experienced warriors far more ancient than her. a princess sure, but not spoiled. in fact, one could say she was diplomatic in her behaviour, her etiquette well praised.
so even though diana valued the truth more than anything, a seeker of the truth who wielded it as her weapon and let it mandate her very being, she did not press on. with one glance at your silent being, she knew better to press on your wounds, to get to the root of your troubles of going to bed.
diana, the guardian she is, brought her lips onto your forehead for a chaste kiss. reverent in her actions.
and instead settled to lay beside you in bed. carefully tucking you in the covers. close but not suffocating, respectful of your personal space. maybe one morning you'd find yourself tangled up in her arms, even so she'd never reach further without asking.
and perhaps she couldn't fix all your problems magically, or cure all the thoughts that you wish didn't exist. but she would always be there for you, unwavering in her devotion to protect you.
you closed your eyes. finally drifting away amidst the tumultuous thoughts in your mind.
characters: diana prince, carol danvers, valkyrie, maria hill, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, emily prentiss x reader
warnings: implications of smut, for the shits and giggles so read at your own risk.
she resurfaces alive after disappearing for ages! i'm only two months late right? started the drabble on valentine's but abandoned it till now. unedited and just an overall mess of writing so please don't be mean :(
diana prince
diana loved to spoil you more than anything in the world. as soon as you breathed a word of wanting, it was yours. you were looking at her as if she hung every star in your sky. your eyes twinkled, the smile on your face reflected in the shine of the watch she had just given you. an addition to your ever growing collection of cartier.
baby pink tulips had greeted you in the coffee table as soon as you woke up.
the most lavish spread of breakfast on a tray, served to you in bed. all for diana’s girl.
you knew the occasion, valentine’s of course. with you, every day felt special to diana. and so she wanted to make sure that you felt special too.
in the evening however, diana becomes a different person. still sweet and caring, but far more dominant.
Diana rolled her eyes, her grip on your neck applying a light pressure.
"stop over thinking this."
she's still holding them down, her leg pressed more firmly between your thighs.
"or stop thinking entirely. it'd serve you better."
And then she's on you, her mouth hot and open on your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse point hungrily, like she's been waiting to get her hands on them this entire time.
diana’s always hungry for you.
carol danvers
if you asked her what her favourite aspect of today was, relieving her girl’s stress during valentine’s would be the top one.
even if you didn’t acknowledge officially being hers yet, there’s no denying the tension and the close proximity the both of you share. everyone around you can see it.
so carol took it upon herself to surprise you with flowers and chocolates. cheesy, right? she promises that there’s no expectations and that the chocolates are a specialty she got from some alien planet during one of her space voyages.
you pop one into your mouth. it’s delicious, and not overly sweet.
but a few minutes later, you start to feel warmer. something’s wrong, you eye her suspiciously, her grin slowly widening and asks,
“what’s going on?”
carol might have forgotten to mention one tiny detail. the chocolates themselves have something special infused - aphrodisiacs. you huff, well aware that with you sometimes carol thinks with her lower body.
carol looks innocent enough. the effects are minimal and harmless, they’d go away on their own after a while, but she’d be over the moon if you were the one who initiated it this round. besides, you’ve been stressed lately, and one of her jobs is to relieve your stress, right?
you sigh, giving into temptation and climb onto her lap, kissing her. carol is victorious at the action, and doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back passionately. after you give her the green light, she takes charge.
“don’t worry your pretty little head about it baby, I promise I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget everything else.”
and she did indeed, when you woke up the next day in her bed, littered in her marks. of course, she wasn’t without the hickeys you left on her neck or scratches from your nails.
you sigh, yet another day you find yourself in carol’s bed. willing of course, but when will you be able to get out of her trap? according to carol, not if she can help it. after all, her skill is beyond compare, you love her fingers and her mouth and did she just confess to you again?
valkyrie
somehow you find yourself with val again. not unusual, certainly not the first, even if it is a strange sight for a mortal girl and the immortal king of new asgard.
val's expression turns soft again, her expression completely fond. her hand gently grips your arm, her hand rubbing your arm.
“really, sweetheart.”
she lets out a small sigh. “i'm a very patient person, you know”.
her hand begins to gently rub your arm up and down, her fingers tracing your skin.
“so i can wait until you're ready to be mine.”
she doesn’t pressure you any further about a relationship. Instead she puts you to bed, after all, she wants you to get the best sleep you can and not wake up cranky in the morning.
you let her, tucking the sheets around you and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“and that means a princess like you needs to be given all the love in the world so you can fall asleep easily.”
you know that deep in your heart, maybe you’re not so averse to the idea of having a relationship with her anymore. nevertheless she would always wait for you, even when you’re looking at someone else.
maria hill
it’s late, most have already slowly filtered out of the office but not you. after all, what other plans have you got on valentine’s day? plus, the super secret organisation you work for doesn’t seem to care, piling stacks of files upon files for you to analyse.
a while later, still typing away at your desk, you feel her presence approaching you. maria hill, towering over your workspace, with an eyebrow raised.
“if you’re spending the night alone, why don’t we have dinner together instead?”
she adds as an afterthought “and hate on all the pda couples while we’re at it.”
that certainly broke the ice. and fair point, who doesn’t get sick of all the displays of affections that couples display in public, like get a room.
you tilt your head at her and grin slyly, nodding along ‘alright then, let me wrap this up and let’s go’
at the restaurant, the both of you make a game of how many couples vs friends there are, trying to guess if each table are merely friends or more.
it’s this playful, familiar flirting and the banter the both of you share that breaks down the walls you hold. after all, you had distanced yourself from her when she got the promotion to deputy director. fraternising with superiors is a big no no.
maria, ever the gentlemen she is, doesn’t even let you try to touch the check, “it’s my duty to pay for the dinner I initiated. plus a pretty girl like you shouldn’t need to worry about it.”
whilst you wouldn’t normally flaunt your appearance, you’re aware that you’re at least average - or even above average in terms of looks. after all, when you’re not slaving away at your desk or out fighting in the field, SHIELD seems to have a tendency to send you out to lure information - a honey trap if you will. maybe that’s another reason why you were hired into this clandestine government department?
back at the dinner, laughter and wine flow freely. maria’s sardonic humour making you laugh, you know best that she’s not as unapproachable and cold as everyone claims her to be.
what you don’t know however, is how you wake up in her bed the next morning. you did learn some of your tricks of seducing a target from her, but how did she end up successfully getting to you is a mystery.
natasha romanoff
valentine’s day. yet another ordinary day, or at least normal for an avenger, with fighting a few villains and saving a few civilians during the day you finally find that you have the evening all to yourself.
finally, a break.
although you seem very preoccupied in your game of mario kart, nearly smashing the controllers, you can still feel the burning gaze at the side of your head.
namely, natasha romanoff. ex russian spy, female avenger and what not.
you can’t help asking, "don't you have better things to do?"
"not really. you're kind of my favorite distraction."
wow. this nearly flusters you into losing your first place. nearly.
your cheeks tinge with a blush, although whether from her words or from the intensity of the race is only something that you know.
“it’s valentine’s day.” natasha, the charmer she can be, should not be spending it alone. especially not watching you intensely race in mario kart, even if you seem to be winning spectacularly.
you manage to finish the race, and finally look towards her, trying to seem nonchalant even though her gaze is burning into your cheeks.
natasha, in sweatpants and a tank top, is sprawled in the couch next to you, one leg thrown over the other as she leans back.
"no date?" you manage to ask.
she laughs, it's not a mean or mocking one, simply one of disbelief. "who in the whole world would want to go on a date with the black widow?"
you blurt out “who wouldn’t?”
she grins, like the cat that cornered the mouse
“is that an invitation?”
the rest of the evening was a blur but you seem to have found yourself going on a date with her at a fancy restaurant and maybe having one too many glasses of wine.
well, at least you wake up in your own bed in the morning. and wait, you freeze, looking at the red spot in the mirror. is that a hickey? a flash in your mind about her grin that was equal parts dangerous and amused and you gulp.
wanda maximoff
“my poor baby” wanda coos as she massages your belly. what better timing for your period to come than valentine’s?
a small uninterrupted pressure in your lower belly, threatening pain but not quite there yet. her tone, a soft and comforting hug, yet the words that run out of her mouth makes you tingle.
wanda’s magic surrounds you, the red wisps electric on your skin. she’s just doing her best to comfort her girl, no hidden intentions right?
lies.
“do you know what will help ease the pain, milaya?”
orgasms. wave after wave, your limbs turning into jelly. and finally she spares you, cleaning you up with a damp towel. you’re well aware that she’s using her magic to change the bedsheets too.
the ever loving girlfriend she is, she disappears for a moment only to return with chicken paprikash, sokovian style. it’s warm, comforting and oozing with love, and what makes it better is that you’re enjoying it cuddled up next to your her in bed. this might be one of the only occasions wanda lets you eat in bed.
after all, what sort of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t teach you manners and take care of you? manners like eating all three meals, ideally on the dining table, keeping you hydrated and so on. and if she took it upon herself to teach you manners in bed, who’s there to judge?
emily prentiss
it’s valentine’s day. but to you and em, it’s just another day of being together, not falling for the overcapitalised commercial crap the ads seem to be throwing at you.
the both of you kept it simple. a dinner date at home with her favourite red wine. you watched her move about in the kitchen, cooking up a delicious pasta and plating it up beautifully.
after the dinner, the both of you cuddled, along with sergio curled up on the couch. you giggled, a wicked idea forming in your mind.
“how about a movie?”
emily agrees, of course she does, for how could she ever deny her wife’s whims? except until, it lands on a romcom.
em scrunches her nose, complaining albeit petulantly to you,
“isn’t it too cheesy?”
not at all. the both of you absorbed into the movie and when it got to the kissing scenes, well let’s just say the emily couldn’t help kissing her wife either.
summary: distraught by the destruction you bring, carol takes it upon herself to comfort you.
word count: 1.2k
The cold breeze of February chills you, the iciness diving straight into your bones. You dangle your legs carelessly over the rooftop of the avenger’s tower. If anyone were to see you right now, they’d be able to feel the palpable melancholy.
Lost in your thoughts, blurred gaze over the horizon and the ever expanding city scape, you barely notice when someone else joins you at the rooftop.
“You doing okay, angel?” a gentle came from beside you, as Carol sat next to you and pulled your body into hers.
An arm wrapped around your back, her grip gentle but you knew that it would not hesitate to tighten if she suspected you’d jump. You hummed vaguely, too tired to answer.
It was a realisation you should’ve come to ages ago. That no one is coming to save you. You were owed nothing by the world, both in the literal and cosmic sense. It did not care whether things worked out for you.
No one is coming to live your life on your behalf. No one can carry the weight of your decisions for you. If you ever wanted to make anything of yourself, you had to take ownership of what you do with your finite time and effort.
And yet, in the back of your mind, a small sliver of hope flickered dimly. To have someone, a gallant heroine from a comic or a prince charming straight from the fairytales to barge into your life and make it all okay again. or at least somewhat bearable.
Carol sighed softly, the worry between her brows not going unnoticed by you. She began, her soft voice treading carefully “Wanda mentioned you’ve been troubled lately. I thought you could use some company.”
“So she put you up to this?” A trace of defensiveness rose within you.
Carol chuckled lightly, her almond eyes twinkling in amusement. “She may have suggested it, but the decision is entirely my own.”
She leaned down slightly, studying you carefully. “You don’t seem surprised that I would offer, or that she even suggested it.” Her hand taking a strand of your hair and placing a chaste kiss on it.
“Perhaps you were expecting it?”
You scoffed lightly, replying “Well they all seem to harbour some illusions that I would listen to you best.”
Carol hummed in response, taking your hand and bringing it up to give a chaste kiss on the back of it before dropping it back down, keeping your hand intertwined in hers. It was almost adorable, the reverence in her actions as she did so.
“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” she began gingerly, careful not to get on your nerves.
“They worry about you. We all do.”
Whilst you remained skeptical about that, you decided to indulge her. After all, to you, Carol was truly an angel. Even if she thought otherwise and believed that you were hers. Her angel, sent down by the stars to accompany her.
Angels like her don't falter, angels like her are the need of the hour. She danced in beauty and in pain, hurt heels healing hurt hearts. You would kiss the sunshine and sleep under the rain for her, the artist's muse and the writer's truth. Her presence granted a brief respite from fear. Of total neutrality. A difficult trek , stubborn through this season of fatigue.
She whispered softly “You try to drown yourself and vanish, you'll not be forgotten ergo. Your hands fix broken things, yet it has never been your burden.”
Burden. You let out a weary laugh. The burden of an avenger, saving the lives of all beings. To carry the weight of the world on your back. For the greater good. Even at such a tender age, responsibility far beyond your peers. The burden of being human. Mingling among those who have shed their mortality, whose strength rivals the gods themselves. And how exhausting it is to keep being someone. Someone competent. Someone together. Someone who has an answer, a plan, a presence that holds steady.
It has never been easy, being called a saviour. When you could still feel the blood on your hands, dripping between your knuckles. The metallic taste in your mouth. How do you apologise to the dead? To the homes you burned, to the names that turned to ash, to the silence you created?
Unintentional, of course, but still a casualty in the ever growing strife. For the greater good, they’ll say. There has never been a shortage of the whispers, of the discontent towards the so called avengers. To you. A monster born from a buried child.
You replied back to Carol softly, “Hope is delicate and my hands have only known how to break. I’m not an angel like you. Angels like me are feared or frowned upon. Angels like you blossom in fantasy, angels like you are written for a legacy.”
She sighed softly, bringing you into a tight hug. Into her warmth, like the gentle sun’s caress on the waning moon. She understood, of course, how you felt. How she herself had felt after fleeing Hala, having its natural resources depleted in the wake of her battle. Being responsible for the deaths of countless, too afraid to look back at the catastrophe caused.
There was no cure for guilt like that. She knew that she could only give it time. After all, time is a cure that could simplify all.
You continued, “Angels like you don't step into the unhindered but angels like you fight for the unprotected.”
The bond between the both of you started not long after you were introduced. Love shared like a flurry of sweetness and security, connecting over the bruises left on your souls. Like two kittens licking over each other’s wounds.
With solace in her voice “Just because you were once neglected-
they said you were ugly and little and unwanted and undeserving just because their hearts were too small.”
You knew, of course, that they were scared of you. Of your strength, the sheer inhumanness of it.
You looked up at Carol, yearning softly at her gentleness even after everything she has been through. “Yet you stand as an epitome of being. You're still beautiful even when you are too tired to fly.”
Her glow in the sky, unmatched by any other, was breathtaking. How she managed to find forgiveness in herself, to challenge herself to be a better being.
Carol knew this time that the scar ran too deep. That you deserved a break after all that had happened. Time to yourself, to figure everything out. To find forgiveness deep within yourself, just like she had once did.
She suggested so. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “why don’t you come on a trip with me? Into space, for a few years at the earliest. You'd be surprised at how beautiful our universe can be and with your favourite captain too.”
You raised an eyebrow at her, “are you asking me to abandon Earth?”
She teased amusedly, “with angels like you, it's never goodbye. Angels like you always shine- brilliant and blessed.”
Besides, the both of you knew that there would always be someone around to save this planet.
You whispered softly, “angels like you make me feel alive.”
option 1: diana prince will stop at nothing to get to the reader's world (dark/yandere/injustice ver)
option 2: "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" route
option 3: glitches in reality - switch to a different character's simulation (could do carol danvers/maria hill/valkyrie/wanda/natasha/emily prentiss/alex danvers)
option 4: angst angst, as much angst as I can come up with. there is an empty hole in your soul the shape of her, after all.
summary: during movie night, carol struggles to contain her possessive feelings as you cuddle with valkyrie. but maybe you're not as oblivious to her feelings as the captain thinks.
warnings: age gap, possessive carol, slight predatory themes?
word count: 1.9k
valkyrie could feel a stare burning into her. she smirked softly, pulling you closer into her side as you continued watching the movie.
it was another movie night for the avengers, a brief period where there would ideally be no crisis or invasion of the planet, and a chance for the members to wind down and get together. naturally, natasha picked the movie, with a little begging from you and settled on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. it had nothing to do with you promising to bake some more treats for her or natasha scaring off anyone else who had tried to even come close to the remote after the bribe she received.
you, innocent as an angel you were, hopped onto an empty space on the couch next to valkyrie, not noticing the signals carol was sending you. oh, but valkyrie noticed. this will be fun she thought. naturally, the warrior opened her arms to welcome your cuddly self, and you melted into her side with a contented sigh, completely trusting. you might have been the most clingy person in the room, but you were definitely also one of the youngest, even with all the young proteges like kate bishop present.
carol glanced at you. she did not know when, or even how, but one day she started to pay more attention to you. maybe it was the way you hummed while making coffee, or how you'd greet everyone with genuine enthusiasm even at the crack of dawn. slowly, the curiosity snowballed into an attraction, endeared by your behaviour and optimism. she almost stopped breathing in tokyo, after saving the world from some alien threat again when the blossoming sakura petals swirled around you. you laughed, bright and unrestrained, twirling with your arms spread wide like a child discovering snow for the first time. truly a princess.
enchanted, she was momentarily distracted and earned a nasty bruise in the ribs as payment. nevertheless, you, bright eyed and curious about the world as you were, radiated warmth like her own personal sun. you were almost too good for her. almost.
for beneath the captain’s cocky demeanour, one she has rightfully earned through her might and her actions, lay a yellow monster. greed, one of the seven deadly sins, formed a giant monster that seeped throughout her bones. greedy as she were, being a hero out of the good in her heart, didn’t she deserve a reward? a reward like you.
now, valkyrie was never going to peg her old flame for someone who went for a girl so young, but she was definitely going to make the best of the situation (by that she would tease the captain relentlessly and possibly even make it much harder for her to chase you). after all, the perceptive warrior could always read carol thoroughly.
startled, you buried your head into valkyrie’s figure as your eyes teared up from the movie.
“would you ever choose to forget me?” you asked, voice small and vulnerable, eyes wide and earnest as you looked up at valkyrie.
her lips upturning into a small smirk, valkyrie’s grip around your waist tightening slightly as she pulled you even closer. if you weren’t feeling sad, your face probably would’ve been burning up from the contact, but you were too engrossed in the emotional movie.
carol could feel something ugly coil within her gut. if valkyrie was enjoying holding you this close a little too much, she didn’t show it. a quiet “no” left her lips, almost a whisper.
surprisingly perceptive, you heard it from carol and turned to look at her.
“you promise?”
the captain’s gaze darkened. her eyes shifted, meeting with yours and staying there. her next answer was firmer.
“i promise, little mouse.”
you huffed, firmly protesting “i’m not a mouse!”
“aw, you’re cute.” valkyrie cooed, poking your cheek.
you felt your cheeks warm at the compliment, and playfully glared back at carol. “see? even val thinks i'm cute!”
carol’s grip on the pillow tightened. she clenched her jaw, trying not to roll her eyes.
“of course val thinks you’re cute. she thinks everyone’s cute.” carol replied, her tone a little snappier than usual.
valkyrie smirked, seeing the captain’s sour expression. she knew what buttons to press to rile the captain up, and had made a sport out of it for many years.
“jealous, carol?” she asked, faking innocence.
you looked upon this spectacle curiously, wondering what the sudden tension was about.
carol scoffed, finally averting her gaze from valkyrie.
“jealous? of what? you flirting with a kid?” carol replied snarkily.
“'m not a kid carol, i'm already an adult.” you protested weakly. your usual childish antics certainly not helping your case. nor was your painfully young age of just over two decades, far outstripped by the maturity and wiseness that carol and valkyrie both earned from their prolonged lifespan.
carol rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.
“barely, little mouse.” she said flatly, looking back at you.
valkyrie laughed, finding humour in the back and forth between the two of you.
“aw, she’s all grown up.” valkyrie said with a teasing tone, reaching out to pinch your cheeks.
you grinned victoriously, preening under the attention.
valkyrie grinned, her arm still around your waist. she then looked back up at the movie, enjoying the moment as the credits rolled.
carol was feeling the same ugly coil from before churn again in her stomach at valkyrie’s hand on your waist. seeing you smile at the warrior’s praise, she gulped down her pride and tried desperately to contain the monstrous greed within her.
its tentacles invisibly swirling about, almost reaching you.
carol’s fists clenched, nails practically digging into her skin as she forced the greed back. her eyes darkened at the sight of you being held so close. she was trying, really, but valkyrie was not helping.
carol was used to having anyone she wanted should she demand so, any and all of the women she’s set her eyes on has never denied her. and now you had come along, with your naive self and that damned cuteness of yours, that she found even valkyrie couldn’t resist falling under your charm.
valkyrie’s smirk was widening as she could practically feel the waves of aggression and tension pouring from the captain. she had never seen the captain so riled up before. not even from their old lover affairs.
she took advantage of the movie ending to pull you even closer against her. it wasn’t for comfort, as the movie hadn’t really been that sad, but she just wanted to see how much more the captain could stand before she blew.
you were blissfully unaware, engrossed in the film and eyes glossy as you watched the ending.
carol was barely holding back from lunging at valkyrie and yanking you away from the warrior. she could see your teary eyes, your expression slightly pouty. she wanted to kiss those pouty lips.
valkyrie, however, was enjoying every minute of this. her grin never leaving her face as her arm remained around your waist, her hand rubbing small circles on your hip.
carol wouldn’t let this continue. not whilst you were so cluelessly tangled up in it all.
“movie’s over,” she said sharply, voice laced with warning and gaze locked onto valkyrie.
you yawned softly, nodding and slowly separating yourself from the tangle of limbs to head to bed.
carol’s eyes followed you as you got up, her jaw clenching again when she saw valkyrie give your arm a playful squeeze before letting go.
she stood abruptly, grabbing the remote and tossing it onto the coffee table with more force than necessary. “i’ll walk you,” carol said firmly, less of an offer and more of a demand.
valkyrie raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment (though her smirk promised she absolutely would later).
you gave carol an odd look but was too sleepy to deny her. although you did briefly wonder what harm you could possibly encounter on the way to your room, in a tower occupied by the avengers and one of the most secure buildings in the world.
carol kept pace just a little too close behind you, her fingers twitching at her sides like she was resisting the urge to reach out.
“you’re tired,” she stated bluntly, as if that explained anything.
valkyrie’s distant cackle from the living room made carol stiffen further. oh, she was going to strangle that warrior later.
you hummed softly in agreement.
carol remained quiet the rest of the journey to your room, her jaw set and eyes narrowed as they scanned the hallway. her thoughts were a turmoil of greed and lust, clashing against her better judgement.
you, innocent to it all, were still so adorably oblivious. so naive, that in some twisted way, was what made you all the more desirable to her. even as you stifled another yawn, one that was so cute it made carol want to pull you into her arms and cuddle you into a deep sleep.
no, carol thought firmly. she wasn’t going to give in.
you finally reached your room door, with carol almost glued to your side through the entire walk. she paused, eyes flickering over you. you looked a little disheveled, with messy hair and half-lidded eyes.
you were tired, she could tell. she also noticed how you didn’t have the energy to push her about being so overprotective over a simple walk from the living room to your room.
she bit her lip, her gaze softening at your sleepy state, and fought the urge to reach out to caress your face.
“good night carol” you said softly, shooting her a small grin, that was all warmth and sweetness, the kind that made even the darkest corners of her heart ache with longing.
carol felt her breath hitch. you were being even sweeter than usual, your sleep-laden voice making her stomach do somersaults. that open, trusting expression on your face, like you saw nothing but good in the world, in her.
cute. was all she could think before she cleared her throat.
“goodnight, little mouse,” she replied softly, fighting the need to pull you into her arms for a tight hug. the monster under her skin begging her to reach out and claim you.
you smiled, not noticing the internal plight that the captain was suffering through. you were oblivious, like a sweet little lamb in carol’s greedy eyes.
as if on cue, you yawned again, your eyes falling shut for a moment. carol’s heart ached. you were adorable, cute, delicious.
carol wanted nothing more than to pull you into her embrace, to hold you, to bury her face into your neck and drink in your sweet scent. she wanted to take you, mark you, claim you.
she froze, in shock as you gave her a quick hug before slipping into your bedroom for the evening.
carol let out a small sigh.
alas. you didn’t know what you did to her. or did you?
back in the living room, valkyrie poured herself another drink, amusement still playing at her lips. she'd seen that look on your face when you'd settled next to her. the quick glance you'd shot at carol before cuddling close.
the warrior chuckled to herself, taking a slow sip.
the warmth of the bonfire crackled, warmth seeping into your bones as you leaned onto carol’s side, twirling your marshmallow stick inattentively, letting it toast to an even golden brown. the sweet smoky scent lingering around you. the cool wind rustling past you, as you gazed upon the cloudless sky. and all the stars that twinkled brightly, dancing in their celestial rhythm, a performance for those who could admire them. just as you moved your stick closer to your body to take a bite, a flash of blonde blinded your vision. carol danvers. who cheekily leaned over to take a bite.
hey!
you punched her softly in the shoulder as she started snickering gleefully at the prank. valkyrie, sitting across the fire pit, watched the two of you get up to your usual antics. you continued playfully wrestling carol, not paying any mind to her gaze on you.
as carol finally surrendered to your obviously amazing strength and skill at wrestling her (she had barely felt a thing), you started to get lost in your thoughts. it had felt like you’ve known carol forever, her amber gaze and impulsiveness surprisingly clicking with your calm and more calculated demeanor (at least that’s what you told yourself). in sleepovers and conversations about nearly everything - beliefs, love, life and even death, you were forever grateful to whatever divine intervention that guided you to meet your platonic soulmate.
and when she asked you out on a stargazing trip with her best friend you couldn’t say no. definitely not because you thought that the lean warrior king with her striking features was charming. you were not going to develop a crush on practically your sister’s best friend. how cliche.
valkyrie laughed at your ‘victory’ over carol, her warm giggling and distinct timbre breaking you out of your thoughts. she reached for the ukulele she had recently acquired, which you still adamantly believed was definitely a tourist trap for its exorbitant price, bright blue coating and stickers from a recent trip in hawaii. she looked at the both of you with a little cocky grin, then began strumming.
♪good little girl♪
♪always picking a fight with me♪
her soothing yet soft voice causing you to shiver slightly, though if anyone had asked you’d have pinned it on the breeze. she was now gazing directly at you, a playful glint in her eye.
♪you know that i'm bad♪
♪but you're spending the night with me♪
did you start blushing a little? maybe. valkyrie must have noticed the effect of her singing, for she sent you a wink before continuing.
♪what do you want from my world?♪
♪you're a good little girl♪
she moved closer to you now, and- since when was she next to you? still strumming her ukulele. you continued the verse for her, singing
♪bad little boy♪
♪that's what you're acting like♪
she raised an eyebrow. you could practically see the cogs turning in her head.
♪i really don't buy♪
♪that you're that kind of guy♪
♪and if you are♪
♪why do you want to hang out with me?♪
valkyrie accepted the challenge, her eyes never leaving yours as she sang:
♪don't you know i'm a villain?♪
♪every night i'm out killin'♪
♪sendin' everyone runnin' like children♪
♪i know why you're mad at me♪
♪i've got demon eyes♪
♪and they're looking right through your anatomy♪
♪into your deepest fears, baby, i'm not from here♪
♪i'm from the nightosphere♪
♪to me, you're clear, transparent♪
♪you got a thing for me, girl, it's apparent♪
oh. did she just? the tinge of pink in your cheeks deepening as she leaned in.
from somewhere behind you, carol's voice rang out cheerfully as she started on dinner,
♪oh, oh♪
♪i got a hot potato♪
♪and i got two hot tomatoes♪
♪well, they'll make a good sauce, maybe♪
tomato pasta by the sounds of it. you could barely hear her though, consumed by your thoughts of the woman in front of you.
she was so close you could see the freckles dusting her face. the warmth of her breath ghosting yours.
♪you're not so bad, you know (so i'll shake it all over the table)♪
♪not so bad? (i'll shake it, shake it)♪
“i'm the last valkyrie alive. it's not something i have to try at. you, on the other hand…” she tilted her face and studied you, letting the silence speak for itself.
you replied “i'm not trying to be bad, i'm hanging out with you because you're my friend.”
“what? like carol?” you let out a huff of laughter
“no, different, ugh, hey-”
she leaned in impossibly close, her lips brushing yours in a feather light kiss, and with a tilt of her head, a silent question was asked. could she have more?
as soon as you nodded, her soft lips captured yours in a slow kiss when all of the sudden-
hey, break it up you two!
a/n: did I kinda give up on descriptions near the end of the song? guilty as charged.
