#ss x reader

➤ Breath Of The Wild

➤ Tears Of The Kingdom

➤ Age Of Calamity

➤ Age Of Imprisonment

➤ Skyward Sword

➤ Ocarina Of Time

➤ A Link Between Worlds

➤ Hyrule Warriors

➤ Phantom Hourglass

The loud music had you seeing double on the dance floor. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, looking up as you let your body move freely and as invitingly as possible. If you were going to attract the attention of your target, it would take standing out from the crowd in the best way possible. As much had been done by the others as possible—Harley fussed over your makeup for two hours, Waller had a dress custom-made to flatter your measurements, and Blackguard passed on three different elaborate hairstyles before deciding on the final look. Who put him in charge of hair? You had no idea, but there was no arguing the fact he had good taste.

“Look into the crowd,” Colonel Flag instructed through your earpiece. You followed command, bringing your head down and locking eyes with a girl who was already drunk out of her mind and slumped into a guy who was starting to get handsy.

“Wanna dance?!” She shouted with a bright smile. You returned the gesture, reaching for her arm as she tripped over her heels without the man to lean on anymore. Soon, she was draped over your shoulder by an arm and dropping her head into your neck.

“C’mon, let me help you out of these.” You ushered her off of the dance floor and onto the nearest seat, which was conveniently the table where Pargent—your target—was stationed. He was alone, an uncommon mistake amongst the crowd of criminals you usually sought after, but just because he was standing by his lonesome didn’t mean he was unprotected.

“Whatre you doing, Y/l/n?” Rick’s voice shouted through your earpiece. You didn’t answer, choosing to send Pargent a sorry smile instead.

“I’m so sorry, you don’t mind if she sits here for a moment, do you? I just need to help her out of these heels,” You spoke apologetically to him. Had he not been a disgusting burglar who so heinously robbed his victims of both their possessions and their lives, he would’ve been attractive. His dark skin, hair, and eyes were a beauty to behold, but underneath it all was a man so violently disturbed.

“No worries at all, doll.” Pargent smirked hungrily. Pretending not to notice, you thanked him and knelt down in front of the girl, unbuckling her complicated shoes and slipping them off of her feet. A second passed as you debated what to do with her now that she was barefoot and swaying in her seat.

“Much better,” She praised from the seat, leaning over in her chair to hug you. The smell of hard liquor filled your nose and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Who’d you come with tonight?” You pulled away, but kept her arms on her elbows to steady her. Pargent had wandered away from the table, whispering into an older man’s ear as they looked at someone on the dancefloor.

“Blair!” A girl who looked like almost identical to her called out from behind you. “We’ve gotta go, Jackson just showed up. He’s looking for me, c’mon.”

The girl scooped up her friend and nodded in thanks to you as you handed her the shoes. Blair threw up down her dress and onto the entryway rug before they were able to make it out of the door, but they didn’t stop walking.

“Alright,” You said as you looked to Pargent in amusement. He had migrated back to the table and was now face to face with you, sharing the same bemused smirk. “Well, I’m sorry again for barging in, thank you for being so kind.”

You turned and walked away standing tall to show off the back of the dress as you headed back to the dance floor where you planned to signal for Rick. Before you could reach the crowd, though, a hand gripped your shoulder and turned you around. The scent of iron and lavender wafted from the clothing of Pargent, who was stood before you with a light grip on your arm.

“Why haven’t I seen you have a drink all night, doll?” His raspy voice asked. You smiled up at him, eyes narrowing in a lighthearted challenge.

“Are you offering to buy me one, doll?” You teased.

“It’s the gentleman’s honor,” He declared, moving his grip and choosing to instead rest his hand across the back of your neck as he lead you to the bar. It took everything in you not to recoil at the action, not to imagine how badly he probably wanted to squeeze the air from your body in that moment.

“Whys that?” You questioned flirtatiously, craning your neck up to look at him. It positioned his thumb across your pulse point, and you watched as he stared before moving his eyes back up.

“See a pretty girl and you offer her a drink.”

“How many times have you bought a girl a drink?” You poked, letting out a fake giggle when he turned his head away and shook as a way to refuse an answer. “That’s alright, thanks for thinking of me tonight at least.”

“What can I get for ya?” Rick asked from behind the bar, surprising you and almost making you blow your cover. You opened your mouth to speak, but Pargent answered for you. Ricks eyes watched his hand on your neck briefly, but Pargent was too busy admiring the sight for himself to notice.

“A martini for the lady and two shots of whiskey—top shelf,” He spoke proudly, finally turning to face Rick. You watched his face as he spoke, trying to seem as infatuated with him as possible.

“I’ll have that right out for you guys,” Rick smiled uncharacteristically toothily. You gave a polite grin back, but quickly shifted your focus back to Pargent, trying to forget the image of your coworker’s show-stopping smile so that you could regain focus on the mission.

The mission that Rick threw out the window by injecting himself into.

“What’s your name?” Pargent leaned down, moving his face in front of yours, leaving barely any room between the two of you. His hand moved from your neck to your waist as you sat poised on the barstool

“Blair,” You stole the name of the drunken girl, pushing him back with a finger to the forehead, but keeping the grin up the whole time. “Our drinks are here.”

He looked up to see Rick approaching the two of you. This time, you took notice of the uniform suit he was wearing. The blazer must’ve been a size small—clinging to his arms tightly. Nevertheless, he brought the two of you drinks with a bright grin, setting the martini in front of you and the two shots in front of Pargent.

“Anything else I can get for the lovely couple?” He asked, winking at Pargent boyishly. You took it upon yourself to lean over the counter and motion for him to come closer. Once he was, you positioned your nose so that it brushed against his. It was hard to keep up the confident, bold personality when his hazel eyes bore into you like that.

“What time do you get off tonight?” You whispered, trailing your fingers down his forearm while maintaining the eye contact.

“I can be out of here in ten minutes,” Rick answered enamourdly. You smiled, releasing his sleeve and nodding as you leaned back into your seat.

“I think Mr. Bartender will be joining us tonight, doll,” You grinned up at Pargent, pressing a kiss to his cheek and staying there to whisper in his ear. “It’ll be fun. That is, if you’re willing to join us. It’s okay if not, but I’ll be thinking of you either way, mystery man.”

“Alright, then,” He responded, obviously uncomfortable with the idea, but if it was what it took to get you, he’d do it. “Drink up, then. 10 minutes isn’t a very long time, and he’s quick.”

He nodded to where Rick was mixing a drink hurriedly. You laughed quietly at the sight, knowing he was desperately inexperienced. Using your long press-ons, you pushed the martini to the side before lying yourself across the bartop, earning whistles from a group of girls across the bar. You smiled at them, making sure they were watching.

“On three?” You faced him, pouring the shot glass in your mouth for him to drink. He nodded wearily, leaning over you.

“One, two, three!” The girls from across the bar counted for you and Pargent bent down, taking the shot from your lips with his, but taking it out before he drank any of it. The onlookers booed him, causing him to look around nervously. You took note of the old man from earlier watching the interaction.

“Lots of people in here killing for the chance, man,” Rick appeared from behind the bar. “Whiskey or Vodka, beautiful?”

“Your the one drinking it, baby,” Your face blushed and so did Rick’s, but it didn’t stop him from pouring Rum from the bottle into your open mouth.

“On three?” He asked quietly, eyes trailing across your face as you lay before him. You nodded, almost swallowing the liquor.

The crowd counted down and it took too long before his mouth was on yours, kissing you deeply to drink the alcohol. It continued long after it was gone, though. Wild cheers roared from the crowd and you both smiled into each other’s lips, only stopping when a real bartender rushed over to see what was happening.

“Hey! Who the hell are you?” She shouted from her station. Rick pulled away, wrapping his arms around your middle as he rolled over you and onto the floor, carrying you with him as you reluctantly grabbed Pargent’s hand and pulled him with you. Had he not been in front of you, you would’ve easily forgotten about him completely.

“Are you alright?” Rick asked once the three of you were long gone in the crowded bar. Any regular girl would’ve been more effected by that maneuver than you were letting on, and Pargent may have caught on had he not been so in his head. Rick leaned down to look at your face, meaning you were now turned away from Pargent. You nodded, staring at his lips shamelessly. You ‘recovered’, grabbing onto each of their arms lightly as you stumbled slightly.

“Sure you’re okay, Blair?” Pargent asked as he took your other arm.

“I’m sure, thank you,” You smiled gratefully. “I’m sure my lipstick is ruined, though.” A sad chuckle escaped your mouth as you played into your role.

“You look beautiful,” Rick spoke up from beside you, making you instinctually lean into him.

“I like you, Mr. Bartender,” You grinned, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his palm. It was hard to pretend to be attracted to the target when Rick was right there.

“Lipstick wasn’t gonna last long anyway,” Pargent whispered into your ear. The ear he leaned into was the one where your comm feed was, meaning Rick heard it, too, as well as Waller and the squad from the tech room at the prison. Hopefully Harley wouldn’t scold you for rubbing your lipstick off. Ricks arm tensed beside you and he leant down to kiss your head. If you reacted to all his sweetly protective gestures, Pargent would catch on. So you ignored him, continuing to face Pargent.

“Let’s hope so,” You said cheekily, squeezing his arm. He pressed a short kiss to your lips and you stepped back in surprise, trying to recover quickly. “I didn’t think you had it in you, mystery man.”

“What a lucky woman I am.” Your head turned to look at the both of them, two confident men who’d earned their place by your side, although only one of them was real. Real to you, at least. Before tonight, Rick had never shared your romantic interests in him. “Mystery man and Mr Bartender on each of my arms, treating me like the only girl in the world.”

“You are,” Pargent flirted, kissing you again while you walked, much to your dismay.

As you exited the club, the music left you in an expectant silence, and the fate of this mission was suddenly reliant on whatever Rick chose to do next. Everything happening right now wasn’t a part of the plan, but if Rick jumped behind the bar, you trusted that it meant he had a plan for the rest of the night, too.

“Do you mind if I grab something from my car real quick?” Rick asked as the three of you grew closer to the van. “I gotta grab my phone.”

“Didnt bring your phone into work?” Pargent asked, eyeing him up and down suspiciously. Rick payed no mind.

“These uniforms don’t have pockets, doesn’t really leave me much of a choice, brother,” Rick said with a chuckle. He rubbed your arm before breaking away and lightly jogging to the van, hiding himself from view with the door.

“The bartender drives a work van,” Pargent pulled you close by your waist to whisper in your ear. “We could always leave him.”

“Y/n, duck,” Rick whispered into comms.

“Hold on, I can’t focus on what you’re saying,” You laughed to Pargent before bending down. “I think there’s a rock in my shoe or something. Just let me get it out real quick and then I’ll-“

A pop followed by a whirring noise passed over your head and you looked up from your shoe to see Pargent on the ground with a bullet square in his head. You stood up and rushed towards Rick, finding that he was already on his way to you, ready to embrace you tightly.

“He’s out, we’re on the way home,” Rick spoke into the earpiece before ripping it out and tossing it into the parking lot before doing the same to yours. “Oops.”

“Rick I know we need to get out of here, but was all of that fake—in there?” Your voice came out so desperate that you wanted to take it back as soon as it left your mouth.

“Not for me,” Rick took a deep breath and brought your lips to his for only a brief moment before the door to the club burst open and the old guy from inside—followed by a crowd of what must’ve been ten more men in pristine shape, all wearing formal suits without the blazers.

“Seriously?!” Rick yelled as he took your hand and began running for the van, pulling you into the drivers seat with him before slamming the door shut behind you and screeching out of the parking lot.

“I think it would’ve been easier for me to get into the car by myself, Flag,” You groaned as you crawled over the console and into the passenger’s seat, his defensive driving practically flinging you across the car on your way.

“Not the time for joking, Y/n,” He grumbled, but the look in his eyes betrayed his grumpy act.

You laid in bed for about twenty minutes, staring pointlessly at the ceiling. There were no classes to attend, it was Christmas after all. Everyone from your dormitory had left Hogwarts to spend the holidays with their family. Only you stayed behind, your parents wouldn't be home, so there was no point in leaving.

Looking to your left, you saw Jinx, your pet bat hanging upside down, soundlessly asleep. At least she could sleep with no care in the world. 

Deciding to roam around, you got up, maybe you'd stop for food in the kitchens. The kitchen elves were particularly fond of you, and always gave you a small snack or some sweets. As long as you were nice to the elves, they were happy to give food out.

With a sigh, you throw off the soft blanket. Your grandma gave it to you before passing away. It was a birthday gift.

Upon the last memory of her, tears welled up in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. She was your biggest supporter, teacher, and the only close family... until death came for her. And that was the breaking line.. You felt stupid, crying and walking down the hall, where everyone could see. Even though it was nearly nighttime, and half of the students who stayed were probably in their dormitories by now. However, the ghosts were always around, some taunting you, some playing tricks, and some being indifferent. 

The closer the kitchen got, the faster you started wiping the tears away. Finally, able to breathe properly, you put on a small smile, and entered the area. Two elves greeted with warm smiles. They never said a word to you, not that it was a problem. Without a word, just a wink one of them gave you a long bar of chocolate, skittles and a bottle of chocolate milk. 

"Thank you.." you whispered. You left with a wave, still smiling softly. Now you just had to find a place to sit down.

Two more turns, and you found yourself before the staircase leading to the dungeons. It was one of your favourite places. Whenever you felt sad or just exhausted with life you came there. Sometimes you managed to cross paths with your professor, however you prayed to Dumbledore that he was already down there. It would've been an embarrassment if he'd see you in such state.

Munching on your treats, tears began flowing down again. This year was just so terrible for you. Your grandma passed away, your grades got worse, you parents were always working and your friends just stopped caring.

Loud footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Before you could wipe your face, Professor Snape came into view, a nasty scowl on his face. Upon seeing you, his expression changed, it softened a little bit. 

Since he started teaching you, he saw great potential, not once did you make a mistake in brewing a potion or on a test. You were always the first one to give it back, or answer a tricky question on many lessons. He liked your passion about potions, always approaching it with delicacy and great precision. 

And you never spoke any ill words about him, quite on the contrary, you defended him handful of times. And it warmed his cold heart, making him put down the tough layers he built around himself, just for you. On free periods, you came to his classroom, offering your help in arranging the cupboard or preparing for his next lesson, like bringing important jars and such. 

Students noticed how you became the only favourite student, always going soft on you, never giving a snarky comment, only small praises, sometimes even a smirk, although barely noticable for others. 

"OH.. Professor-" you started, getting up. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment washing over you. 

"Come along, Y/N." he spoke quietly, going down the stairs, towards his office. 

Not wasting much time, you walked behind him. Vision still blurred from the tears, you took careful steps, afraid you'd fall and break your bones. 

You didn't know if you should curse Dumbledore or actually thank him. Maybe Snape's company would actually cheer you up, or worsen your mood. 

"Alohomora..." he muttered, letting you in first with a small nod. 

You went further in, sitting down on the couch near the fireplace,and opposite Snape's armchair. It was like a ritual, most of your holidays you spent there. Severus would always make tea for both of you, and sit down by the fireplace. Some days were in comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company, and on some days you'd make small talk, or discuss many topics. But it never felt forced.

"Green tea, as always I presume?" he questioned, raising a brow. 

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you." 

He nodded, turning the kettle on. You smiled, it was nice to have someone show a little bit interest in your well-being.

"How are the first years?" you asked, staring into the fire, pushing your hands out trying to warm them.

"Horrid. Not one brat knew what I would get if I added root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.." he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"HA! Easy. Draught of Living Death." you shouted triumphantly.

"Precisely. Well done." he praised, smirking. You looked down, blushing madly. He knew it would lighten your mood a little bit.

"It couldn't be that bad though? I heard Jack got better in potions.."

Severus let out an annoyed sigh. "He just made the potion explode. Instead of cutting the Sopophorus bean while making Felix Felicis , he should've smashed it, brings out the juice more. Damn dunderhead .."

"Oof, well, next time I see him, I'll tutor him a little bit."

Severus handed you the tea, sitting on the armchair, taking a sip of his own one. You handed him the other half of the chocolate bar.

"Don't bother... How are your parents?"

You offered a weak smile. "Good, busy as always, but working for the Ministry is like that, so what can I say."

"How have you been lately, professor?" you questioned, looking into his eyes.

"I've told you many times before, call me Severus." he gave a small smile, making your heart melt instantly. "Good, although the holidays aren't my favourite, I prefer that muggle tradition called Halloween."

"Oh Merlin! Me too! Especially when the elves make pumpkin pasties and delicious cranberry punch." your laugh was like a beautiful melody to the dark-haired man.

"Ah, yes. Though the idea of scaring those isolent brats is just too tempting to pass." he smirked.

He frowned quickly. It threw you off a bit.

"I've noticed your grades getting worse. Minerva approached me before the christmas break. She worries about you, as do the other teachers. And I." he said softly. "You were always a top student. What changed?"

Tears welled up in your eyes for the milionth time. The teachers actually care? Professor McGonagall even came to Severus?

So lost in your thoughts you didn't realise Severus sat beside you, his worried gaze on you.

"I'm sorry.." you managed to whisper, before heavy sobs took over your body.

The cold man instantly took you into his warm embrance, caressing your soft hair, rocking you back and forth. Who would've thought that a man like Severus Snape would ever hug someone and try to make their every problem dissapear, because he cares so deeply. You really wreaked your way into his heart, that actually lied existed, but under many layers of thick walls.

"Shhh. It's alright. We're here, I'll help you as much as I can, and so will others. Don't worry." he promised. 

You pushed your head into the crook of his neck, hugging him as tightly as he was you.

It was really all you had to rely on for the months leading up to your marriage. Lord Ghirahim was a busy man, after all. You had only managed just a few brief meetings with him before your marriage to him was arranged. And it was never without an audience. Your family. Some advisors. Some of his men. But those meetings were so brief and so formal. There’s much you could learn about someone over tea. But there’s very little you could come to know about someone when you’re in a room with all the people they need to impress present. 

And so, you lived off of the rumors you would hear. And think about the brief patterns of behavior you came to witness around him. Sure, he would send flowers to your family’s home once a week, but you heard that he was crass to those who he thought were beneath him. Sure, there were a few handwritten notes with flowery words and praises and remarks about how he couldn’t wait for the next time he saw you but you knew of his position. You knew of his power. And for the longest time, it made you feel uneasy.

The thought of marrying a stranger could do that to a girl. It could do that to anyone, really. But the thought of marrying Lord Ghirahim- the very Lord Ghirahim you’ve heard nothing but hushed whispers of- had you feeling all nervous and jittery in a way you don’t think is completely natural for a blushing bride to experience.

That was until you were finally walked down the aisle. 

You felt like you were melting under the gazes of all the people who watched you walk down the aisle before being handed off at the ceremonial altar. You felt like you were being picked apart by strangers. People who answered to Lord Ghirahim. Members of your family who thought that you were undeserving of such an honor. People who you knew absolutely nothing about. It nearly made you sick with dread as you went to face your betrothed. So sick that you must have missed half of what you were supposed to say during the ceremony and stuttered through the other half.

But then Lord Ghirahim reached for your hand and threaded his long fingers around yours.

“Just breathe, beautiful,” He had murmured to you in between one of the officiant’s many speeches about duty and honor and respect and compassion needed for a good marriage to thrive. “There’s no need to worry. I’m here now. I’ll take care of things.”

You didn’t know what he meant at the time. But his confidence and enthusiasm were infectious. He felt like a shield from all the bad and all the worries you had in this moment, even as he stood apart from you. So you put aside your worries. You casted out all of the rumors you heard from your mind. And you trusted him.

And just like that the rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch. 

Then the reception happened. And the reception felt so magical and you felt so pretty and so adored by all that you couldn’t help but melt into your new husband’s side as he doted on you. As if you were someone he had always known. As if you were someone he had always loved. But as the night dragged on, your memories from earlier in the day started to blur. So much was happening around you. So many people came up to congratulate you. So many things to do as part of the different ceremonies. So many foods to eat. So many things to dance to. So little time to stop and to stress and to worry.

Yet all the time in the world to start to fall in love with Lord Ghirahim.

So you had no qualms when the arm around your waist started leading you away from the party and all the guests. And you didn’t feel the same fear and anxiety as you once did as you realized your husband was now leading you towards the honeymoon suite you both were set to share. How could you? Not after he was perfect for you. Not after he made everything so perfect for you.

And so you let him take the lead once more, as he has been all night. And he proved to you once more that he wasn’t the man in the rumors you heard about for months and months on end. No, he was so much more than that. You realized that much earlier in the day. But that thought- that feeling really came to fruition after your new husband locked the door behind the both of you and pushed you up against the nearest wall and went for your body with the hands of a man who only knew how to worship. How to pray.

“My goddess,” You remember him uttering into your skin as his lips pressed against and nipped at your neck.  “How did I get so lucky? Who do I have to thank for delivering you to me?”

The two of you couldn’t even wait around to get undressed. He had already pulled down the top of your reception dress and had his hands squeezing and groping at your breasts. Something you would normally be too wary and too afraid to let just about anyone touch so openly. But he listened quietly when you shared your hesitations and your insecurities. And he brushed them all to the side for you. With a touch so gentle and fingers so purposeful as he cupped your breast between his fingers and played with their plushness, he eased you into his affections. He drank up every sound of pleasure you made.  

“Tell me whatever you want, and I’ll do it. For you- only for you.” He spoke to you in between kisses. Ones on your lips. Ones on your neck. Ones on your shoulders and arms and every single piece of skin you had exposed. “You’re worthy of it, my lady. My treasure. My everything.”

In front of the crowds, he only spared you kisses to your lips and cheeks and forehead. You remember feeling a little warm in the face when he pressed the occasion to kiss behind your ear and on your jaw as whenever he came up behind you after leaving your side for a moment. But now to feel his lips on you like this? Dipping lower and lower until it’s his tongue circling on a sensitive nipple and two fingers toying with the other.

“My lord…” You couldn’t help but mewl over and over again that night. The scene felt so erotic. It felt like something you only really heard about from others- from friends more experienced than you  But you never felt so cherished. Because every honeyed word he said felt so genuine and so true. Because every single place he touched you felt like the right place. That hand grasping onto your hip. His mouth against yours. Even that knee pressing in between your thighs. Making room and traversing an area explored only by one person so far- you. 

Deep down inside, you still do hold onto the rumors you’ve heard about him. You know they didn’t come from just nothing. And you aren’t so sheltered and so blind that you’ll trust him so openly and so easily. 

But as he stands in front of you- acting far from the flamboyant and bold and powerful man the world knows him to be. As he stands here- taking the time to learn your body and learn more than just your name and your family before he lays you on the bed and claims you as his wife. As he stands here- not as Lord Ghirahim, but as Ghirahim, your new husband, you find that it’s very, very easy to fall in love with a stranger when that very same stranger shows you that he is so much more than your first impression of him. That he is so much more than what other strangers make him out to be. And that you’re so much more to him than just some broad he was supposed to marry. 

Because you are and have always been so much more to him. But you won’t know every detail surrounding why he chose you to be his bride for a very, very long time. But you do know one thing. It’s that his lips are soft and his touch is softer. But most of all?

His words of praise and affection to you are even softer. Softer than anyone would have ever thought possible by a man such as Lord Ghirahim. But that’s the thing. Tonight he’s not him. Tonight, he’s not Lord Ghirahim. No- tonight is he just your husband. Just like how tonight, you finally become his. His wife. His beautiful, perfect, goddess of a wife.