Innocent eyes.
Summary: In a city where crime rate is high, murders, incidents and accidents, unexplained deaths start to happen as they all somehow have a connection, your boss signed you on to this case, a detective, and along the way you meet interesting people that may somehow be connected, or not.
They could be on your side or worse.
Pairings: Wanda maximoff x detective!reader(focus), Natasha Romanoff x detective!reader (more platonic)
word count: 1047
warnings for this chapter/tease: murder mentions.
a/n; welcome to my new series I been working on!, more chapters will come eventually, don't know when, but I'm excited for this one. This is just a teaser, I'm happy to hear feedback!.
Low music played from the car’s radio where you sat during your lunch break, shuffling through a pile of files you were supposed to finish yesterday, but that’s not what you’re looking for.
“Ah, there you are,” you muttered, smiling to yourself as you reached for it.
Much to your annoyance, you’re distracted by a knock on your window, turning your head, you try your best not to roll your eyes at the person staring back.
“I know you can hear me, roll down the window” a woman’s voice demanded with authority, it wasn’t a surprise it was your boss bothering you on your break.
As you did what she asked, she leaned forward.
“Jesus christ its a mess in here” she commented, making you sigh, you can’t really hide it now.
“You know what time it is?” you said, tilting your head to the side.
“1:24 PM” she answered nonchalantly.
“I started my lunch break at 1:15, I still have a few minutes, leave me alone” you groaned, others would frown at the way you’re talking to someone superior than you but they also knew you’re closeish friendship with her, and that neither of you gave a shit.
She smiled.
“Got a new case for you, meet me in my office in five.”
“Couldn’t have texted me that?” you asked, watching as she turns on her heel to walk away with a proud smirk.
“Nope.”
Well, you knew the rumbling in your stomach meant you didn’t exactly eat yet, did you even bring your actual meal you were gonna eat today? No, you never did, coffee will do.
Sighing, you stepped out of your car, turning off the engine as you grabbed your bag, keys, everything you needed and oh yeah, coffee.
-
The building that was built in late 1870 and was founded by Ivan Romanov, who gave over his title as head chef of New York romanov agency, yeah, he basically named it after himself, Natasha, his daughter, who he handed it over to, always said he was a bit egotistical.
But then she never denied her being egotistical either.
As you walked back into the agency, several other workers, officers were there, scrambling at last minute deadlines or starting new ones. Most look like they haven’t even left their last shift and stayed overnight.
Not like you could judge.
Natasha romanoff, your boss, unfortunately, sat waiting at her office as she shooed away everyone else trying to get her attention but happily smiled at you when you finally entered after she had cussed out another employee for not doing his job.
“What a bright, happy day it is to be working for you, Ms. Romanov” you sarcastically say, going to stand in front of her desk, she grinned at you.
“Ah my favorite detective, remember when you weren’t such a smart ass but a nice rookie?” she said.
“Nope, those days are long gone, ma’am.”
“Don’t you dare call me that, rookie” she says with annoyance, you couldn’t help but grin as you know she hates being called that.
Miss, ms, anything is fine except for ma’am.
Because her father used to address every goddamn women as ma’am so it pissed her off.
And so she tries to use rookie against you like it still bothers you.
“No but I did bring you here for a serious matter” natasha said, standing back up as she grabbed her coffee cup, taking a sip. “We have a new case, and I want you to investigate it.”
“Well that is kind of my job” you couldn’t help but joke.
“Cut the crap, this one isn’t to mess around” natasha sternly said as she took a couple of steps towards you. It must be serious this time for her not to crack a joke every five minutes, you frowned, straightened up, knowing she hates bad posture. “Every other agency has turned this one down or couldn’t be bothered to touch it, it’s… new, different. I’m thinking it’ll get us big in the news, everywhere if I have you solve it.”
“Why me exactly?” you asked, she raised an eyebrow at you.
“Is that really a question you need answering?.”
You shrugged.
“Fine, I get why, but still, why is this case any different than to our other ones we always get?” you said.
“Finally a goodish question” she smiled, looking pleased as she turned around to face the window that overlooked the city. It was stunning, really, of course she had the best view in the entire building. “You know you’re one of my best, and I mean that when I say that. You know I don’t say things lightly to anyone, I want you because we need you, this case, it doesn’t fit right with me, why would all the other agencies turn away this case if it could get them in the papers? Hell, I even know some old bastards in other offices that would kill for this kind of cover.”
You stood there, letting her ramble, unsure of where exactly this is going but you have an idea.
Natasha has taken after her father to be the very best in the world, not just new york city, but everywhere she wants her name known, and to not be fucked around with.
You let her continue.
“So, please, take this opportunity, to catch whoever did these murders, people are calling it accidents, but how is it an accident when they’ve all been found dead the same exact way? And in similar locations? God, you’d think people nowadays would know a thing about true crime shit. Fucking hell.”
You smiled and she noticed that, her lips turning into a grin.
“Come on, you can get a shit ton of money for this, and well, you’ll get a bonus if you actually catch the guy before the police put him behind bars” she tempts you, though she already knows what you’re gonna say, and so do you.
“Funny you mentioned this case as I was already working on it” you say.
“Good for you there’s a new crime scene that just opened up, you’ve got permission to go investigate, detective.”
You nod, waving her goodbye as you exit her office, guess your lunch break is over.
160 notes
·
View notes
Surprise meeting
solangelo + apollo’s visit
Halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang, and since not only it was Percy’s place but he was also sitting the closest to the door, he was the one who stood up to open up while Leo paused the movie. Curious as they were, all heads were turned towards said door when it got open to reveal no one other than Apollo, and everyone’s eyes were fixed on him as Percy then closed the door shut quickly but not without care.
“Will.” Now everyone was looking at him instead, Nico himself included, when Percy spoke. “Please tell me your dad’s here just to visit, ‘cause last time I had him at my doorstep-- sheesh.”
“In my defense, when he said he’d be coming over to say hi and I agreed… thought he meant the camp or my mom’s place.”
“Don’t worry, man, I believe you.” It wasn’t until then when Percy opened up again, not without sighing, and the whole group got up to greet the visiting god.
“Hi Jackson, hi everyone!!! And hi, buddy!!!” Apollo basically threw himself towards Will, wrapping him in a tight hug and almost running over Nico in the process. “I know half the people here already, but still, mind doing introductions?”
Will nodded and, once released, grabbed Nico’s hand.
“Alright! You’ve technically met already, but– official introductions, I guess.” He shrugged. “This is Nico, my boyfriend.”
“Ah, yeah!!!” Mere seconds later, Nico found himself being the one crushed into an embrace, which he would have deemed uncomfortable if it wasn’t because what followed was considerably worse. “Nice to officially meet you, Rico.” Apollo then turned back to Will. “You like boys, I like boys, cool thing to have in common, amirite?” After a brief clap, he started whispering. “What surprises me is that you like that emo grunge guy, but--”
“I can hear you, sir.” Breathe in, breathe out. No matter how embarrassing that may be, he was still in front of not any god but his father in law. “And it’s Nico.”
“Right, Nico. Like, from Nicholas?”
“No.”
“Nikolaj.”
“No.”
“Then, from wh--” Leo started, and he might have entertained the question at any other time, but not right now.
“Who gave you a candle for this burial, Valdez?”
“C’mon, man.” Percy followed suit, because of course. “Are you gonna make us wait till your wedding to hear it out loud?”
His WHAT.
(Also on ao3.)
15 notes
·
View notes
part one
------
“Oh, wow…guys, I just had the craziest dream…”
“Hey, me too! There was this weird, like, demonic Steve Harvey —”
“Oh my God! With the pictionary?”
“— and the family feud! Yeah! Holy shit —”
Lance’s hands shake on Red’s controls. All of him shakes, really, trembling like the last dead leaf on a barren tree.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
As if he’s miles underwater, he hears the rest of the team chatter excitedly about the games they played. The drama, the excitement.
He hears them talk about the test.
He hears Coran say Bob is a god.
Mostly, though, he hears his blood rushing through his ears, and Keith’s words repeating over and over in his head. Again and again.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
No one attempts to drag him into the conversation. He’s not sure what he’d do if they did. It’s better that they ignore him.
It still manages to hurt his heart more, somehow.
(He wonders how many of them were relieved when Keith finally said what must have been on all their minds. What they’ve been feeling for — God, for who knows how long. Did they talk about it, when he wasn’t around? Did Pidge and Hunk make eye contact and roll their eyes over his head over every failed sim, back at the Garrison? Did Allura and Coran giggle in Altean about Lance’s idiocy? Did Shiro plan missions around him?
They must have. They must have. There’s no other — why else would they let Keith say that? Why else would they stay silent?
They all think it. All of them.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.)
He doesn’t bother getting out of his lion when they set up camp for the night. He stays right where he is, rigid and unmoving in the pilot’s seat.
Not unmoving.
Shaking.
No one comes. No one messages. He watches as they joke and laugh over the campfire. He can imagine what they’re talking about.
It was so crazy, they must be saying. Lance just kept fumbling! Man, I’m glad we’re heading to Earth. I didn’t know how to say it… but it’ll be easier to drop him off, you know?
He shudders. He thought — he can’t believe he thought they were fine. He knows he’s not great at reading people, but he’s never been this wrong before. He’s never — he’s never loved someone, before, who was disgusted by him.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
Why would they pretend? Why would — why would Keith pretend? It couldn’t have been easy. It couldn’t have been easy for him to smile, soft, promise that Lance was useful and had a place on the team, lying through his teeth. He thought — he always thought Keith was so honest.
He’s always trusted Keith. Even when he was jealous. He thought Keith was true.
He stays awake long after everyone else rolls out their sleeping bags. Long after the fire reduces to embers. Long after the lions power down. He stays, stuck in his seat, shuddering.
Thinking.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
They’re so far from home. Months, at least, of travel. Of close proximity with each other. And Red’s not always empty. It’ll be his turn to host, soon. For Shiro or Romelle or Coran or Krolia to stay with him.
To sit in the cockpit with him. Share the space. Share the air. Talk, probably.
(Will they bother? With pleasantries? With small talk? Would it be better if they did? Would it hurt less to sit in silence? To count down the minutes until they can be away from him?)
He won’t — he’ll be expected to bond with him still, will he? To share his mindspace? To form Voltron? To be connected, by their quintessence, as one?
(How did Keith do it, before? How did he pretend? Lance opened to them because he loved them. Because he trusted them. Because there was nothing he wanted more than to share with them, to save with them. How did they fake it so well? Lance didn’t notice. He didn’t feel their disgust. Their annoyance. He didn’t — he didn’t know.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.)
He can’t… he can’t stay here. Not for months. He can’t wake up every day to people who don’t want him, who don’t even like him. How can he? How can he continue to take up space when they’re wishing so desperately he wouldn’t?
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
For the first time in hours, he moves. He stands, joints creaking, and walks over to the cabin. Slowly, meticulously, careful of his shaking hands, he takes off his armour, arranging it neatly, piece by piece, on the floor. The flightsuit is next, folded carefully. He shrugs on his jacket, pulling the hood over his head. Robotically, he opens a random bag, stuffing it full with food and supplies and water pouches. He walks quietly out of the cockpit, moving quickly down the hatch, letting the light of the moon guide him down the packed earth of the planet they’ve rested on. He walks until his feet ache, and until the only thing he can hear is the creaking of the bugs and the heaviness of his own breaths.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
He takes out his comm, scrolling until he finds the right contact.
Five lions, six paladins.
He drafts a message, quick and unquestionable, and then sits on the dry ground, watching as the stars blink in foreign constellations.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
When the pod arrives, autopilot making it’s movement just ever so out of place, he stands, wiping the dirt from his jeans, and boards it. It has been sent with no pilot, with supplies to last a month, and coordinates to the nearest solar system with a fuel stop. Lance sits stiffly in the pilots seat, smoothly and easily maneuvering the pod back up from the ground and straight through the planet’s small atmosphere.
I just don’t want to be stuck for eternity with Lance.
As the planet — as Voltron — shrinks to a speck behind him, his hands finally begin to still.
186 notes
·
View notes