#I miss when you’d have a camera and you’d put your pictures on your computer and that was the whole thing

[wewontbesleeping]

one of my biggest adhd struggles is organizing my digital life. my phone is full of screenshots from 2014. I’m past the point I know how to deal with it

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Traumatized | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You get kidnapped and when Bucky finds you, you’re traumatized from being abused the entire time. 

A/N: Hope you like it! xx I started this a while back and finally finished it today. 

Usually I’m all for the bad ass reader, but I’m gonna change it up to a completely terrified/innocent reader. She’s technically not an avenger but is a part of the team working with Bruce and Tony on some high tech inventions.

!! Warning: mention of blood, cuts, torture, ptsd 

Also, I am not into technology at all. So, if there’s some misinformation in there, please just move along and continue reading :)

! Warning: talk of abuse/torture, blood, traumatized reader 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

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!! Warning: mention of blood, cuts, torture, ptsd

“Hey has anyone spoke to y/n today?” Bucky enters the shared common space of the Avenger’s tower where Nat, Steve, Wanda, & Vision were, “She said she was going out to grab a coffee and a quick walk around the park, but she’s not back yet and I haven’t heard from her.” 

“She’s probably still at the park.” Wanda answers, moving a chess piece. Her and Vision were currently enticed in a game of chess. 

“You know how she is. She probably found some ducks to feed.” Steve chuckles. 

“yeah, maybe.” Bucky mutters, not completely convinced. You’d left earlier this morning and it was now entering the early afternoon hours. So, you should have been back by now. 

“Where’s Tony and Bruce?” Nat asks, shifting the subject. 

“Working on some new high tech.” Steve shrugs, “I didn’t understand a word after that.” 

“Wasn’t y/n supposed to be working on that with them?” Bucky takes the seat next to Steve at the table. 

Nat furrows her eyebrows, “Yeah.. Maybe she’s down there with them? She probably went straight to work with them after she got back from her walk.” 

Bucky nods, Nat’s probably right, “Yeah she probably did. She was all excited last night talking about the new tech her, Tony and Bruce had been working on. She said it’s almost done.” He finally lets the worry of not talking to you go. You were most likely in the zone with Tony and Bruce and usually the outside world disappeared. 

~ 

incoming video chat, Mr. Stark do you accept? F.R.I.D.A.Y asks. 

“I accept.” Tony continues his work with Bruce, not thinking much of it. Probably something to do with Stark Industries, “Yeah try that-” 

“Ah Mr. Stark, it’s been a while.” 

When he turns his attention to large computer screen, he’s met with a man who looks vaguely familiar but can’t picture where he’s seen him. “And who are you?” 

“It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember me.” The man sighs and steps back from the camera, showing the full view of the room. You were practically hanging from the ceiling, your hands pulled tightly together above your head and your feet barely touching the concrete floor below you. There were 5 other men standing near you, large guns in their hands and what looked to be masks over their face. 

Tony drops the tool in his hand, “What the hell is this?” 

“Oh now you want to pay attention!” The man comes to your side and a whimper escapes your lips as he holds the gun to your cheek, dragging it along your face and using it to push your hair out of the way, “I knew she would catch your attention.” 

Tony and Bruce exchange a look, “You realize you’ve just kidnapped someone very close to the Avenger’s and that means it isn’t going to end well for you,” He rounds the table to get a closer look at the screen, “So why would you be so stupid to kidnap her?” 

“Because she got what I didn’t.” He yanks your neck back by your hair, causing you to yelp.

“Who? Bucky? I don’t think he is into men.” He sarcastically replies. Deep down he’s actually very worried for your safety but choosing to be sarcastic in a time of danger is a way he copes. 

“Not Bucky.” The man seethes, “She got that position with you at the Avenger’s Tower. You three are working on something very high tech and I want it. I deserve it! And I’m going to get it.” 

“Then you probably should have tried to walk into the Avenger’s tower to take it. Not kidnapped one of our assistants!” 

“Oh I plan to get it out of her.” He taps your head with the gun, “She knows everything, everything about the tech you’re working on and she’s going to tell me. Even if I have to torture it out of her.” He smirks. 

You try to speak to beg tony, to beg someone to save you from this, “Tony please-” You were terrified. You weren’t trained to take torture and you knew this wasn’t going to end well for anyone, especially you. You were only an assistant to Bruce and Tony and Bucky’s girl, but you knew things about the avenger’s and about all the tech Bruce and Tony were working on. You could be the person to bring down the Avenger’s and the man knew that. He knew exactly which person would get him what he wanted. 

He ended the video chat. F.R.I.D.A.Y informs.

"Where’s the location of the video coming from?” Tony asks F.R.I.D.A.Y and Bruce who had been trying to pinpoint the location as well. 

There’s no clear location. 

“It’s bouncing off different wifi connections, there is no one location.” Bruce looks to Tony, “We’re blind. We have no idea where they have her.” 

~ 

Tony calls the team in for a meeting, calmly. He doesn’t want to panic them, especially Bucky because his judgment will be clouded by his love and attachment to you. He probably would destroy the city trying to find you. 

“What’s this about Tony?” Steve asks as the avengers fall into the room and settle in their seats. 

Tony clears his throat, “We have a problem.” 

As Bucky looked around the room there was one person missing, you. “Where’s y/n? I thought she was working with you two.” 

“That’s what I’ve called this meeting about.” Tony turns on the screen and there is a screenshot from the video chat of you and the men. 

“Oh my god.” Wanda gasps. 

“Is that-” Nat asks. 

Bucky swallows the lump forming in his throat, “Y/n.” 

“We received a video chat from this man here earlier. It’s unclear what the hell he even wants,” Bruce begins, “First it was anger for y/n getting the position he didn’t, then it was wanting the high tech we were working on. Y/n is close to the Avenger’s and she knows a lot of things; important information that could be used to bring all of us down. She also knows all information on that new high tech device we were working on. He’s planning to use her to get what he wants.” 

“She’s not.. She’s only a civilian.” Wanda says, “She’s not trained to hide information. To endure that kind of torture.” 

“Which is why we have to find her asap.” Tony says, glancing at Bucky. 

Bucky clinched his hands in anger. He knew how torture worked and to think of you in that position... “You mean you two don’t know where he has her?” 

“We have no idea.” Tony nods, “The man was good. He’s using different wifi signals which means there’s no pinpointing one location.” 

“We’re looking for her blind.” Bruce says.

Another video request, Mr. Stark. 

“Accept it, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony turns to the screen to see the same man, but this time you’re in worse shape. Your clothes are dirty and torn; your shirt wasn’t covering anything; There was blood dripping down your cheek. 

“Ah all the avenger’s are here this time! What a treat.” The man smiles, “Including Bucky. Aww.. if you should know your little girlfriend here has been begging for you.” 

Bucky stands quickly, the chair screeching along the floor, “I’ll kill you. Don’t you fucking touch her!” He gets closer to the screen. 

“Oh we already have.” he chuckles, glancing at you, “You want to see your little boyfriend? He seems very worried.” Pulling the video closer, you can see the avenger’s staring back. 

“Bucky.” You whimper, “Please..” 

“Shh.. doll it’s okay. We’re going to get you out of there, okay? Just stay strong for me.” His heart breaks to see you like this and there’s absolutely nothing he can do, “I love you, y/n.” 

The video pans back to the man, “how adorable. Not!” He chuckles, “I just wanted to show you what she looks like one more time. Once we’re done with her, she won’t look the same.” He smooths out your hair, “This girl here is very tough but she’s given us some valuable information.” He sighs, “But it’s just not enough yet,” His hand grips your hair and yanks your head back earning a yelp of pain from you. And with that he ended the call once more. 

~ 

It took Steve, Nat, Sam, and Tony to hold Bucky back from leaving the room. He didn’t know where he would be heading, but that didn’t matter. He was going to tear the city apart to find them, to find you. 

“Let me go!” Bucky thrashes against Steve’s tight grip. 

“Buck, we have to be smart about this!” Steve reasons, “We don’t know where she is!” 

A screenshot from the video is put on the screen, “This is the only thing I could capture.” It’s blurry and you can only see half of the symbol but all the Avenger’s recognize it, especially Bucky. 

Bucky calms as he stares at half of the symbol, “That’s.. That’s an old HYDRA base.” It was one step closer to finding you. 

“Do we know which one?” Wanda asks. She was on standby near Bucky in case they couldn’t contain him. 

“Shield took care of all the bases.” Tony says, “Or at least they thought they did. However, it was hard to determine if the ones destroyed were the only ones.”

Bucky’s gears are shifting as he tries to remember his time at Hydra. He tries to think of anything that could have been said to give off some kind of clue. “It had never been used but there was talk about a base on an island north of Russia. It was a backup in case HYRDA was compromised.” 

“That has to be where they are keeping her.” Nat speaks up from beside Steve, “Where else would there be a HYDRA symbol on a wall? Unless someone painted it but..” 

“It’s worth checking out.” Sam says, “There are only a handful of islands north of russia that a HYRDA base could be built.” 

~ 

The last island the avengers check turns out to be the correct one. Using Stark tech, they find out there is 10 guys inside and then another body in a room that they assume is you. They find a place to land the quinjet without the men noticing. 

“We can’t go in there guns blazing.” Sam grabs Bucky’s arm as he’s about to storm out of the quinjet. 

“Sam’s right.” Nat says, “We have the element of surprise and we need to use that to our advantage so that y/n doesn’t end up getting killed in the crossfire.” 

Bucky knows they’re right, but you’re right there in that building. He sighs and nods, “What’s the plan?” 

The plan goes right and within minutes the men are taken out. Bucky was the one to kill the leader for what he’d done to you. Bucky takes off toward the room and when he enters, you’re curled in a ball on the bed.

“Y/n?” 

You look up at your eyes go wide, pushing yourself back against the wall to put as much distance between you and Bucky. You couldn’t even recognize your Bucky. “Please.. please no more.” You whimper, “I’ve told you everything!” 

“It’s me... it’s bucky.” He takes another step closer to you, but it results in a scream from you.

“Please! I can’t take anymore.. I can’t!” You sob with a shake of your head. Your whole body starts to shake with fright. You couldn’t take anymore torture, anymore pain. You were passed your breaking point and you’d already came clean about everything, but that didn’t stop the torture. 

It’s like you don’t even recognize him and his shoulders slump with defeat, “Y/n.. please..” He starts toward you once more and that’s when Nat grabs his shoulder, “she doesn’t recognize you.” She motions to Wanda who uses her power to practically put you to sleep in a calming state. 

It’s then that Bucky can see the damage they did to you. Blood, cuts and bruises all over your body. You’re filthy with dirt and your hair is a mess. You’re only in a ripped t shirt and undergarments. He’s gentle as he picks up your body. 

“She’s asleep.. she can’t feel anything.” Wanda tells Bucky after seeing his careful hands.

“She’s.. covered in these marks..” He holds you against his chest and Nat takes another look at you, “Electric shock. They electrocuted her.” 

He follows behind the rest of the avengers toward the quinjet. He kisses your head, “You’re safe now, doll... I’m here.” 

~ 

It had been almost a month and you hadn’t spoken a word. You wouldn’t speak to anyone, not even Bucky. The doctor’s informed the avengers you’d been traumatized and that it might take you a while to get comfortable again and that it was best to give you time. You’d gone through a lot and you needed time. 

But it was hurting Bucky not to be able to hold you, to comfort or kiss you during this horrible time. He wanted to be there for you, but the closest he could get is watching you through the window on the door. You would start start screaming when anyone from the Avenger’s team came in. Recently you let Nat inside without screaming, but you didn’t say a word to her. 

He could hear your screams from the nightmares and it pained him not be able to hold you in his arms. It was something you did with him when the nightmares would return in the night and you were the only thing that could calm him. He just wanted to be that for you. 

However, one night he couldn’t help himself. You just continued to scream and cry out like you were in pain and he decided that was it. He needed to see if you were okay. He needed to be there for you.

He ran into your room to find you thrashing around in your bed having a nightmare. He rounded the bed to your side, “hey hey, it’s okay.” He shook you awake and your wide eyes met his. “It’s okay...” He waited for the screams to start once you saw him, but they didn’t come. Maybe this was a good sign. He started to back up toward the door in case this turned bad with you. He didn’t want to push it with you. 

Your eyes filled with tears and you didn’t move. The two of you stared at each other for the longest before you spoke the first words in a month, “Don’t go.” 

Relief flooded Bucky’s body and he had to hold back tears, “I’m not going anywhere, doll.” 

You made yourself comfortable in bed once more, turning on your side. Bucky didn’t want to push his luck and decided the chair by your bed would be a good place for him. 

You made sure he wasn’t going anywhere and then let your eyes close. He stayed there in that uncomfortable chair the rest of the night while you slept. You didn’t have another nightmare that night. It was like your mind knew you were safe and you could finally let yourself go. You were safe and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you again and when you finally realized that, you let Bucky back in. 

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[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[harrywritingsbyme]

A Show

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: I can’t get enough of these Subby wife!Y/n concepts!! I also love love love a good camgirl!Y/n and camboy!Harry read...so I combined the two! This one is hot as fuck...enjoy🙃

3.9k words

When it came to you and Harry, the two of you were always putting on a show. From the outside looking in, the two of you looked like a young and happily married couple. And without a doubt you two were just that. Neither of you could stand being away from one another for long periods of time and the both of you could just burst at the seams with how much love you two had. It’s just that you guys’ relationship had a couple more layers that weren’t exactly obvious to the people around you two and would definitely raise eyebrows if they were. 

For starters, you and Harry were in a bit of a dom/sub relationship aside from your “foundation relationship” so to speak. As your relationship together blossomed, you and Harry ventured out into trying things that you’d never even considered doing in the past. After expressing your desire to give being a submissive a try, you and Harry tried it and never looked back. Of course you two weren’t in this space 24/7 and you liked to switch it up from time to time. But for the most part, you were perfectly fine with being subby with Harry as your Dominant. Sure when you two were out and about, you both exhibited some of those dom/sub tendencies, but it was nothing like how you both were at home. If you were feeling small, you were always in his lap or on your knees beside his legs, constantly begging for touches, cuddles, kisses, and his cock. And depending on how good of a little girl you’d been, Harry never minded to give you all of those things whenever you wanted. But if you weren’t a good little girl, he’d either take you over his knee and spank you, making you count out each one, or he’d decide against giving you his cock, no cockwarming and no sex. Also when at home, you’d always be in either a pretty little set of lingerie, or a cute little outfit that you’d picked out. Either way, Harry had complete and easy access to your body at all times. From the onset of you guys’ relationship as a whole, you gave Harry permission to take you anywhere and anytime he wanted. So if you were standing at the kitchen counter, Harry could simply come up behind you, pull your panties to the side(if you were even wearing any) and push his cock into you. And of course, if you weren’t feeling it, you’d simply use the safe word and he’d stop immediately. For you and Harry, this was heaven. And neither of you could get enough of it.

Another thing that wasn’t in the forefront when it came to you and Harry was you guys’ mutual exhibitionism. It was something about the risk that captivated you two and made you want to keep going and up the ante a bit. Now you and Harry are very good at not getting caught. The two of you are pros at keeping your little sexscapades under the radar, proceed to go about your business afterwards as if nothing happened, and have everyone around you think that as well. But whenever there was an opportunity to feed into that exhibitionism, you two always did. For example, last summer Harry planned an amazing trip to Italy for the two of you. He managed to secure a suite on one of the higher floors that was absolutely amazing on the inside, with an even more amazing view. The room had a balcony facing the water and you both took advantage of it all week long. Not only did you two cuddle up in your bathrobes in the morning when you guys ate breakfast or after a night out of taking in the city, you and Harry also had some very loud and intense rounds in that balcony. He’d be giving it to you so good out there. And as he slammed himself into you, he’d constantly whisper into your ear to scream and let the people down below know how good he was making you feel. When you two were at home, he’d make sure to make you moan and scream as loud as possible while telling you that he wanted the whole neighborhood to know what he does to you and how good me makes you feel. When doing movie nights with friends, you’d always cockwarm under the blankets. And if it couldn’t get any worse, Harry had one very large window in his office at work. This meant that whenever you popped in to pay him a visit, the number one, go to spot was right against the glass. Even though no one could really see what you two were doing, there was still a thrill that came from going at it against the window. There was also a thrill when it came to the possibility of someone knocking on the door. Even though getting caught would be horrifying and humiliating, whether it was from down below, or from beyond the office door, it was still a turn on for you both.

Now the third and final layer was a combination the dom/sub side of the relationship and your mutual exhibitionism. The two of you had a pretty sizable following on only fans. At first it was just you. But after things between you two got really serious and you told Harry what you were doing, you wanted him to join in on the fun. It was definitely a bit of a shock to him at first, but after mulling it over and listening to how much more jealous he’d be if he wasn’t included, Harry caved. And seeing how diligent you were about having a measure of privacy when it came to your identity was the icing on the cake. In the beginning of you guys’ “partnership”, Harry’d make an appearance every once in a while, the majority of the time popping in whenever you were live and watching you play with yourself or go on and on about how good daddy aka Harry, made you feel. This sort of pattern lasted all the way up until you guys moved in together. Once you two lived in the same space, Harry was a regular on there with you and he even had some times to himself. This platform that you once had to yourself grew and was even better than before. All of your numbers increased across the board and you both were very happy about that. Harry tended to be more happy about it out of the two of you though; he’d constantly tell you that they come to so see him and to see him rail you with a smug smile plastered across his face as he says it. And to be honest, he was kind of right. Your numbers were good before but they skyrocketed once he came into the picture and the most popular content was the content with the both of you in it. Now even though you two were enjoying yourselves, there was still a balance between public and private times. The both of you loved showcasing your amazing sex life and continuously feeding off of your mutual exhibitionism, but you and Harry also loved ditching the camera and the fans and just being alone together in that space as well. The sex was always mind-blowing, but it was taken to another level when it was intimate. The volume of intimate moments always outweighs the public ones and you two liked to keep it that way. The two of you went as far as to make a little schedule for what content you guys wanted to put out and when. And for the most part, you and Harry stuck to it.

Except for today though. 

You were being a brat for the majority of the day. From the moment Harry sat down in his chair at work, your little messages game began. The first one was a simple one telling him that you were missing him already, which he thought was absolutely adorable and made him want to go back home and spend the day with you. After replying with a sweet message, he was able to go 3 hours without receiving any messages from you. In that 3 hour time period, you got some extra sleep and you got some things done around the house that needed to get done. And once you got all of that taken care of, you were on fire and you were riling Harry up. As you were doing a bit of self care you were sending Harry photo after photo, and explicit message after explicit message.  He couldn’t get you to stop and he couldn’t stop himself from hardening in his pants. Every picture, message, or even the occasional short little video was more explicit than the last if that was even possible. You were going on and on about how couldn’t wait until he got home and that you needed daddy inside of you. It was so much that Harry couldn’t even leave out to get lunch. He was so hard that he locked himself inside of his office for lunch and took his cock out of his pants to let go of some of that mounting pressure. And even with that, it still wasn’t enough. As if things couldn’t get any worse for Harry, he was so close to finally getting off and coming right home to take care of the situation with you. Where was the problem? The time was moving incredibly slow as the day wound down and the workday came to an end. 

Meanwhile, your little teasing session went on all the way up until a little after five o’clock. You sent your final tease to him when the time hit 5 before going into the room that you two had set up specifically for filming. You got the computer all ready, and your new toy from the box. The schedule said that today was your day to do a live performance of you playing with yourself. So you picked out a cute set of lingerie from your collection and put it on before making  your way over and onto the bed in front of the camera. You then do a little test in the camera beforehand to see if everything looks good before starting your live stream. And in an instant you were flooded with viewers. Before just jumping right in, you have a little banter with your audience. You tell them in detail about how you’d been a bad girl for daddy today and that you were waiting for him to come home and deal with you.  As you do this, you’re toying with your panties and playing with your breasts that were confined to the lacy bra you had on. You then go on to tell them that you were going to play with yourself anyway and just hope that you weren’t going to get into too much trouble, even though you knew for a fact that Harry was going to punish you for what you did to him today. In no time, your panties and bra are off and your legs are spread to expose the sticky area between your legs. 

“Do you guys like this new dildo my daddy got me? It’s not as big as him but it’ll have to do.” You say happily, bringing the toy down to rub it against your plushy and very sticky cunt. You begin to tease yourself, pushing it up and down your folds and right against your entrance. Before pushing it into your entrance, your bring the toy up to your mouth to slobber all over it and make sure it was nice and ready. You then start to slowly push it inside, and as you do, your moans get louder from the way you were being filled up with the toy. It was nowhere near Harry, but it definitely felt good.

Now while you were on camera fucking yourself with the dildo, Harry was trying to get home. All of your teasing caused him to slip into his dominant space and he planned on really giving it to you and making sure that you knew how brats were dealt with. He was filled with anticipation and excitement to get home and right into you. Harry tried his best to avoid any traffic so that he could get home as fast as possible. Luckily for him, he managed to avoid a good amount of traffic and get home in less than an hour. He practically throws himself out of the car and into the house where he shrugs his coat off and charges upstairs to you. When he makes it up the stairs, he can already hear your moans echoing from down the hall. He pretty much sprints down the hallway towards the noise, his movement coming to a halt when he finds you spread out on the bed while pushing your toy in and out of your pretty little hole and moaning your little heart out. His mind just goes to giving it to you hard and without any type of mercy. You had the audacity to tease him all day long then play with yourself while you waited for him to come back home. He could see that you were filming but he could honestly care less, if you were going to be a brat, you were going to pay for it. Harry makes his way through the doorway and goes straight to the box that held some of you guys’ toys. Your actions immediately come to a halt when is steps enter the room.

“Daddy’s home!” You announce excitedly, keeping the toy inside of you and lifting yourself up into your claves. While you sit there anxiously waiting for him to come over, Harry picks out the shiny handcuffs that were inside the box. Without saying a single word, Harry completely undresses himself from behind the camera. Even though they couldn’t see him taking his clothes off, they could hear it and they were able to get a good idea of how good he looked from the way you were rocking back and forth on the toy below you. “Missed you so much t-“ You begin, being cut off mid sentence  with a hand around your throat. 

“How about you shut up?!” He snarls back to you, dropping the handcuffs onto the bed and turning your around into a new position before pushing you back against the bed. He then moves onto the bed, immediately straddling your body to keep you down. Since you were in a new position, Harry adjusts the camera a bit so that the audience could get a better view of you both. “It’s funny how you think that you can just do whatever you want and not get punished.” He chuckles down to you, pushing down on your throat one final time before releasing you. “Think that you putting on your little show is gonna stop me from teaching you a lesson and taking you however I want?” He asks rhetorically, as he picks up the handcuffs and brings his free hand to your wrists. He gathers them in one hand, bringing them above your head and securing them with the handcuffs. “If you wanna be a fucking slut and send me all types of obscene things while I’m at work and then get online and fuck yourself with a dildo, then I’m gonna treat you like a little whore. Understood?” Harry growls above you.

“Yes sir.” You whisper shakily. Your heart was racing and your body was tingly. Even though it was expect that he’d establish dominance over you and do whatever he wanted, everything was live. That meant that everyone was watching as you got punished. 

“Now as your first punishment, m’gonna make you gag on my cock.” Harry says, bringing himself further up your body so that his cock was even closer to your face. He then wraps his hand around his girthy shaft and lifts his cock a bit to tap at your lips. Once they open, your mouth is immediately filled with his cock. Harry pushes in and lifts himself a bit so that you’re taking all of him all at once. He wanted to be in your mouth and in your throat. “Look so cute with a mouth full of cock little girl.” He admires through a moan, finally feeling the pleasure he was in need of all day long. After calming down a bit, Harry begins to move himself in and out of your mouth, each time pushing down on your face a little harder and keeping a hand pressed down onto your wrists. The sounds of your little whimpers and gags were euphoric for Harry. He liked knowing that you were stuggling a bit and he wanted the audience to know that you could take anything he gave you. As he continued to thrust into your face, your messages were being flooded with people telling him how he was lucky to have such a pretty set of holes and how good of a girl you are for taking his big cock down your little throat. “Fuck! Such a good little hole f’me.” He sighs, pushing back down into your mouth and grinding his hips down into your face. After a couple more thrusts into your mouth, making them a bit harder than the ones before, Harry decides to pull out of your mouth so that he can push into the hole he was most excited about. Since you were lying on the bed, Harry made sure that the camera was positioned in a way that only showed the lower half of your face. This meant that the viewers could see him pull his slobbery cock from your wet mouth and him on top of you. “Look so pretty babydoll.” He admires, taking in your tearstained cheeks and glistening mouth. “Gonna make you nice and filthy once I’m done with you.” Harry promises, gripping onto his shaft to give your cheek a little tap. He then lifts his body off of you and makes his way down between your legs. 

“Need you daddy.” You whine, squirming against the bed as he kneels between your legs and stares at your filled pussy. 

“Aww, does my pretty little slut of a wife want her pussy fucked?” He patronizes, swiftly pulling the toy out of your cunt. 

“Yes daddy! S’achey down there.” You cry out to him, feeling yourself slipping into your subspace.

“Should stick it in your ass and fuck you like a real whore?” Harry suggests with a cynical chuckle, ignoring your cry out to him and bringing the dildo down to tap it back and forth against your puffy cheeks.

“Please daddy!” You beg, turning your head to the side to take the toy into your mouth.

“And suddenly, my desire to push this into your ass is gone.” He promptly states, dropping the dildo next to you and pushing you body back a bit, moving your face completely out of view. He then pushes your legs back a bit more so that you’re spread even wider for him. “Now are you going to take your pounding like the good little slut I know you can be?” Harry asks, bringing his hand down to deliver a quick swat to your sensitive cunt. 

“Yes sir!” You promptly whined, needing to feel him inside already. And with that, Harry lines his cock up with your entrance and slams right into you. When he does this, your eyes roll to the back of your head and the biggest moan leaves your mouth. It felt so good to have his big cock inside of you. He was so big that you felt him in the pit of your tummy. You loved that. Now instead of giving you any time to adjust, Harry doesn’t stop; he goes straight into pounding into you. He couldn’t stop himself, your cunt just felt too good around his cock for him to stop ramming his cock in and out of you. Plus you were being punished which meant that you took whatever he gave. While Harry continued to fuck his cock into you, the audience was going wild. You two were getting an insane amount of tips and messages encouraging Harry to keep on fucking you and to go even harder, and messages for you saying how cute your pitiful moans sounded as you took his cock into your stomach. Harry was making you feel so good right now, his cock was going so deep inside and he was just slamming into you over and over again. You were on cloud nine.

“Y’look like a proper slut now.” Harry hums through a string of pants, taking in your appearance below him and bringing his hand back up to your throat that in turn silences your once loud moans. “Tearstained cheeks, drool coming out of that mouth, a hand around your throat, and m’cock in this delicious cunt of yours.” He points out, beginning to change the pace of his thrusts to more of a one at a time type of pace. He was still delivering those deep and hard blows, they were just a bit slower. As he continues on, Harry shifts his weight onto the hand that was around your throat and brings his now free hand up to the side of your face. Keeping his eyes locked in on yours, he gives you a soft squeeze before drawing his hand back a little to give you a nice slap. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it wasn’t weak either. It was enough to be for pissing him off. As he feels his release getting closer and closer, Harry does a couple more things to make you a bit filthier. He gathers some of his saliva in his mouth and he spits down into yours. From your eyes alone he could tell that you wanted to sallow, but you couldn’t since he had a tight grip on your throat. He then proceeds to do this twice more, aiming for your breasts that he’d neglected this go around. “Fuck m’gonna cum!” Harry grunts, feeling the warm and bubbling sensation mounting in his lower stomach. And before he could even comprehend how amazing he felt, Harry was erupting inside of you. The audience could hear his moans as he came inside of you. Meanwhile, you were on the brink of your release, but given the fact that you were being punished, you weren’t cumming any time soon. You hadn’t cum yet you could feel a tiny bit of a soreness forming in your lower half. As Harry pumped his cum into you, the messages just cheered him on to fill you up with his seed. Once he’s all done, Harry pulls his cock out of you, allowing all of his cum to pour out of you. He then releases your throat, causing you to break into a fit of pants as you try to catch your breath. “Came a lot in there.” He observes, tapping his fingers on your lower stomach before scooping up the cum that was dripping out of you and bringing it to your pebbled nipples. 

“Now were gonna sign off now, but don’t worry, we’ll record the rest.” Harry hums darkly before ending the live stream. 

You were going to be in for a very long, punishment filled night. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d be ruining you tonight. 

Masterlist

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[babymetaldoll]

The BAU First online Secret Santa (aka: Rossi vs Zoom)  (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Summary: Rossi might have said too much when he wasn't muted in the BAU online Secret Santa Celebration. And Reid is too embarrassed to face (Y/N) afterward.

Requested: Yes. My boyfriend asked me to write this, and asked for some specific gifts for some team members. (Based on season 7 of Criminal Minds in COVID quarantine).

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader- feat the whole team 

Warnings: None

Word count: 3K

Masterlist 

.

- “Hello?”- Penelope waved at Rossi, but he didn’t reply. She sighed and stared at the camera on her computer, and nearly started jumping and waving. 

- “Rossi!! Hey!”

- “Penelope??”- Rossi screamed, looking at the screen, unable to find the tab with the Zoom video conference on his navigator. He could hear her but couldn’t see her. 

- “Where are you??”

- “Rossi!! I can’t hear you! you are muted!”- Penelope was already frustrated, and it had been only two minutes. 

Rossi had been struggling using Zoom the whole quarantine. Every online meeting for the last couple of months had been filled with “Rossi, you are muted,” “Rossi, we can see you picking your nose,” “Rossi, you aren’t mute, we can hear you fart.” It had been as frustrating as funny for the team. 

- “Hey!”- Prentiss waved at the camera- “Where’s everybody?”

- “We’ve got Rossi trying to find us and unmute his mic”- Emily chuckled and nodded- “And Hotch just logged in… hey!”

- “Hello everybody”- Aaron Hotchner waved, and his son Jack appeared in the back of the room, waving too. 

- “Did you clean your room?”- he asked his son

- “Yes…”- it was clear Jack was lying

- “So if I go upstairs right now, your room is going to be clean, your bed made, and your toys in their place?- Jack stayed still and just smiled. Slowly, he turned around and ran back to his room. 

- “Hey, how did you change your background?”- Emily asked Garcia, who started explaining how to do it. 

- “Henry! what is it?”- JJ logged into the conversation, but her attention was really on her son, who kept crying somewhere near her. 

- “Hello? Hey? can you hear me?”

- “Hey Spence!!”- Prentiss and Garcia said at the same time and chuckled. 

- “Hello! How’s everybody!”- he smiled and stared at his screen. 

For someone who hated technology, he was pretty comfortable meeting the team online. Maybe because his germaphobic self was glad they didn’t have to go to the BAU if there was a pandemic going on.   

Germs were worse than technology, which was good to know when it came to his phobias. 

- “Baby girl, what are you doing?”- Derek’s voice interrupted Garcia’s class of “How to change backgrounds one on one.” Emily enjoyed her time switching pictures on his background, laughing, while JJ tried to convince Henry to eat his banana. Hotch was reading a case file, not paying attention to anything going on around him. Rossi was lost and muted still, trying to find the right tab in his browser, and Spencer was reading a book, sipping a cup of coffee.  

- “Hey!!”- (Y/N) waved at the screen and stared at the scene. Everyone in the BAU was on their little bubble.  

- “Hello, hey! How are you?”- Spencer closed the book and waved. (Y/N) blushed and waved back. She just stared at him, and all the memories of their last video call came to mind. 

They had literally spent the night together. They started a video call around seven, then cooked dinner. Spencer actually cooked ‘cos (Y/N) gave him an easy cooking lesson online. Both of them ate spaghetti with homemade bolognese sauce. 

They started talking and talking, drinking tea, and coffee, and cocoa, and more tea. They snuggled on their couches and kept on talking, laughing. Somehow they started reading each other their favorite parts of their favorite books. And somehow, they ended up in their beds, drinking one last cup of tea. They were hugging a pillow, wishing they could actually hug each other, but never saying those words. And so they kept talking until they fell asleep. 

(Y/N) had fallen asleep first. Spencer felt he had bored her ‘till she passed out, but the truth was, she had made her best effort to stay awake but failed at four in the morning. She loved talking with Spencer. She loved Spencer, all of him, including all the facts and statistics he would ramble on for hours. 

If only she knew he felt the same. He could hear her ramble about books and albums she loved. He didn’t know half the bands she talked about but always googled them after their conversations to understand her a little bit better. And to add facts to their next talk. 

.

- “Rossi! Rossi! unmute your mic”- Aaron repeated for the hundredth time during the call, but Rossi still had no idea what he was doing. 

- “Ok, ok, don’t touch anything, I’m hacking into your computer,”- Garcia simply said, already tired of waiting. It wasn’t the first time she had done it during the latest months. I wouldn’t be the last either. 

- “Hello? can you hear me?”

- “Yes, David”- Aaron nodded and almost smiled- “Hello everybody, I trust you are all having a nice day.”

It was their annual Secret Santa, and for the first time, it was online. They had all made sure to mail their presents earlier enough, and everybody had gotten theirs already. It was December 24th, and though it was still just noon, Rossi enjoyed the first whiskey of the day.  

.

- “I sent you all cookies!!”- Penelope clapped and smiled, staring into the camera- “Did you all get it?”

- “Yes!”- they all answered but (Y/N). 

- “No… I didn’t”

- “What?! But I sent them yesterday! the delivery said you had gotten them,”- Penelope explained, but (Y/N) just shook her head. 

- “Sorry Garcia, I just got my Secret Santa present this week, and that’s it”

- “Someone stole your cookies, pretty girl!”- Derek chuckled and took a bit of one of his- “Your lost, ‘cos they are delicious.” 

- “Great… not only I get to spend Christmas alone, now I have to bake my own cookies.”- she groaned and sighed. 

- “What? Alone?”- JJ was in shock- “What about your family? Family get-togethers are allowed this weekend. It just has to be less than ten people in each house.” 

- “They live in Seattle, and I can’t travel ‘cos I don’t wanna expose my grandparents to any risk, so I decided to spend Christmas alone”- (Y/N) cut the team a short smile. They all wide opened their eyes in shock. Christmas alone was never a good plan. 

- “Me and Jack are going to spend it with his grandfather and aunt. We would be glad to have you over.”- Hotch immediately said, and (Y/N) smiled.

- “Thank you, but that’s ok, it’s just Christmas…”- that really didn’t sound good. 

- “I’m gonna be alone too,”- Spencer texted her ‘cos he didn’t want to say it in front of the team- “Do you wanna spend Christmas with me? I can save you some cookies”. 

(Y/N) chuckled as she read, and Spencer smiled, staring at her. You don’t usually get to see the reaction of the person you text. And he loved it. 

- “Why are you going to be alone?”- she wrote back

- “Same as you, I don’t wanna expose my mom, and she is all the family I’ve got. She’ll spend Christmas with aunt Ethel”. 

- “Hey! (Y/N), are you listening?”- Penelope waved and nearly yelled. 

- “Sorry, what?”- (Y/N) left the phone aside and tried to focus on the team. 

- “JJ was saying you are also welcome to spend it with her mom, Henry, and Will.”

- “Thank you guys, but… I think I’ll be ok.” 

She blushed at those words and made her best not to look at Spencer as she smiled. Which was incredibly useless, ‘cos no one knew where Spencer’s image was on her screen. And at the same time, it was so easy for the team to profile what was going on. That’s why neither of them said another word.

- “Ok, can we start opening presents now?”- Prentiss asked. Her background was now a beach, and she had put on a big hat and sunglasses. Penelope and JJ laughed at her so loud that they didn’t listen when Aaron said they should make a distant toast. 

- “Wait! let me get something to drink!”- (Y/N) stood up quickly and poured herself a cup of tea. 

- “Ok, now I’m ready, sorry”- and when she looked at the screen, Spencer was blushing, and everybody was chuckling. 

- “What did I miss?”

- “Nothing pretty girl”- Derek just smiled- “Let’s do the presents thing… who wants to start?”

- “Henry is pretty restless today, so if you guys don’t mind, I want to start”- JJ waved and showed everybody her present. 

“You have to guess who gave you your present,”- Emily explained and sipped her cup of coffee. 

- “Alright… let’s see… I got this envelope from my Secret Santa and… it’s just what I needed!!”- JJ smiled and nearly jumped on her seat

- “It’s a whole spa day!! Mom needs a day off when this pandemic ends!! thank you, Secret Santa!!” 

- “Who do you think gave you that?”- Penelope asked, and JJ looked at each one of her teammates on the screen.

- I’m gonna go with… Hotch, ‘cos I think he understands exactly what’s like being a parent in quarantine- Aaron chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Sorry, I would have given you that, though, but it wasn’t me.”

- “Then who?”- Rossi raised his hand and smiled

- “I noticed you were a little… stressed last time we talked. I thought maybe when this whole thing ends, you would enjoy a day to treat yourself.”

- “Thank you so much, Rossi. I really appreciate it!!”

 .  

The whole team continued opening their presents and laughed, trying to guess who was their Secret Santa. Hotch got a horrible (and yet adorable) Christmas sweater with a gigantic Rudolph on it and a matching one for Jack. He guessed right away it was from Penelope. 

Hotch bought García a fantastic pair of high heels and confessed he had picked them himself. Aaron Hotchner had a pretty good fashion sense. Who knew? 

Rossi opened his present and laughed, shocked. It was one costly and hard to find Scotch bottle. He thought it was from Emily, but no, it was from (Y/N). 

- “I remembered you said it was your favorite, and I thought maybe you’d like to share it with us next time we have a real get-together in your house.”

- “It’s very nice and naive of you to think I might actually share this present with anyone”- Rossi smiled and waved at the screen- “Thank you, kid.”

Emily got a weekend in Vegas from JJ to make it up for the “Sin to Win” weekend she lost because of a case a few months before. And again, she refused to explain to the team what “Sin to Win” meant. 

Morgan got a life provision of baby oil to rub on his six pack and biceps each time he took his shirt off. It was a joke from Emily, and Rossi nearly had a heart attack laughing at it. Penelope wanted a demonstration, but Derek promised a private show. Prentiss also got him a new kit of tools for home repairs, which always came in handy for him… mostly to fix all the doors he kicked. 

- “And what did you get, Spence?”- JJ asked, now holding Henry in her arms, trying to keep him calm. Reid opened his present and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile though, it was a “are you fucking kidding me?” smile.   

- “Dating for Dummies”- he said and showed the book- “And I’m pretty sure this is from Morgan.”

- “As soon as this quarantine ends, you and I are going to a club, so you better study that book, ‘cos I’m gonna make you put it on good use.”

Morgan joked, but after all those years, it just wasn’t funny anymore, not for Spencer, at least. 

- “And last but not least, what did you get (Y/N)?”- Penelope’s eyes were shining. She loved Secret Santa. She had forced Hotch to put on his sweater, and he was now feeling like a dork on camera. Garcia, of course, had taken many screen-captures to save that amazing moment. 

- “Well, I’m pretty sure this is from Spencer”- she smiled, ‘cos he was the only one left. He blushed and waved. 

- “I hope you like it”- (Y/N) unwrapped the present carefully and smiled, surprised. 

- “Where did you get this?”- it was an original edition of The Little Prince, in french. It was tough to find. 

- “You said you loved the book ‘cos your mom read it to you when you were a kid, so… I thought you’d like it.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop going through each page, as a million memories of her childhood came to her mind. Her mother had passed away when she was in high school, and the book meant more to her than anyone could imagine. 

- “Thank you”- she whispered and bit her lip, making her best not to cry. 

- “Jesus Christ! When is he going to tell her he loves her!?”- Rossi nearly yelled. He was in the back of his office, pouring himself a glass of his Secret Santa present. 

The whole team stayed quiet, making their best not to laugh. Spencer wanted to die. He rested his head on the desk and controlled the urge to leave the conversation. 

- “Hey, Rossi… just so you know, you weren’t muted.”- Prentiss managed to say and chuckled. He looked at the screen and stayed quiet. 

- “Ok... I think I’m gonna go now. This Scotch is already getting to my head, so… see you guys!!”- Rossi waved and tried to leave. 

- “Fuck! I hope I didn’t ruin it for the kid. Well, someone had to say it anyway”- he whispered, embarrassed.

- “Rossi, we can still hear you. You didn’t close the conversation, just minimized it”- JJ warned him, and that time, everybody burst out laughing. 

- “Ok, I’m gonna go now…”- Spencer couldn’t even look at (Y/N) anymore. He just waved and closed Zoom. 

- “I’m gonna go too”- (Y/N) whispered- “I hope everybody has a nice holiday!”- she didn’t even wait for anyone to say anything else. She just left the conversation and walked to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. 

What the hell had just happened? 

.

Spencer had a panic attack. What was he supposed to do now? Confess his feelings? Rossi had already done it for him. Should he call (Y/N) and tell her it was just a joke? Tell her the truth? Invite her over for Christmas, again? 

- “Fuck!!”- he shouted and walked to his kitchen. Some whiskey Morgan left last time he visited was still there, and though Reid wasn’t much of a drinker, he needed one. 

He honestly had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn’t face (Y/N) now. How? he would fluster just to be in the same room with her. Rossi really ruined everything. It seemed it was the end of the world. 

- “I’m gonna have to quit, move from DC, change my name, start my life from scratch…” 

Yes, Spencer was making a drama out of the whole situation. But in his defense, he had never been in that kind of situation before. 

.

It was eight pm when Spencer heard a knock on the door. He had been lying on his couch most of the afternoon, trying to read. Still, his mind kept coming back to (Y/N) and the embarrassment he felt after Rossi’s comment.

- “Hi”- (Y/N) whispered as soon as Reid opened the door, and his heart stopped- “You said I could come for Christmas… so…”- he stood still and just nodded. She was there, wearing a Dr. Who mask, with some snowflakes on her coat.  

- “Can I come in?”

- “Sure! I’m sorry, I just…”- Spencer moved from the door and watched her taking off her shoes, leaving a few paper bags on the table, and smiling at him as soon as she removed her mask. 

- “Can I wash my hands?”

- “Of course, the bathroom is…”- Reid stopped himself. She knew where the bathroom was. That wasn’t the first time she was there.    

While she washed her hand, he made his best to clean a little, folded the blanket on his couch, and piled all the books that were lying around. 

- “So… I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”- (Y/N) started apologizing again, but Spencer just shook his head. 

- “No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you to come after… what…”- he couldn’t even mention it.

- “After what Rossi said?”- she turned around and avoided looking at Spencer. She walked to the bags she had brought and started taking things out

 - “Should we worry he was getting drunk so early?”- she simply said, and Reid chuckled

- “I don’t know, maybe… what are you doing?”

- “Well… I’m not into chicken tandoori for Christmas, so I cooked some things.”

- “It smells delicious”- Reid smiled, and so did (Y/N), feeling her cheeks blushing. 

- “It’s mom’s turkey recipe, so it better be good”

- “Let me put that in the fridge”- Reid held the turkey, roasted potatoes, and many other things (Y/N) had cooked and walked to the kitchen. 

- “I also got you this”- (Y/N) giggled and followed Spencer. As soon as he left everything he was carrying, she put a Santa hat with red and white stripes on his head.

- “You look like the cat in the hat”- she joked, and Spencer laughed, feeling like the happiest nerd on earth. 

- “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

- “It is…”- (Y/N) stared at him and sighed, both of them smiling in silence for a second. 

- “Did you get one for yourself too?”- he finally asked.

- “Yes! so we can take dorky pictures and send them to Garcia, she is gonna love those”- she made a pause and bit her lips for a second. 

- “So… do you like Christmas traditions?”- she asked and looked down at her shoes 

- “Mmm, sure… like watching Home Alone drinking hot chocolate?- Spencer asked, thinking he hadn’t really lived many Christmas traditions growing up. However, he knew his mother had made her best to make him happy each holiday. 

- “Yeah… that and… maybe this”

(Y/N) took a mistletoe from her pocket and lifted her arm to place it right on top of their heads. 

Spencer didn’t move. He just wide opened his eyes, staring at (Y/N), who was now smiling, completely blushed. 

- “Since we are spending Christmas together, I thought… we… could…”- but she couldn’t finish talking, ‘cos Spencer leaned in slowly, very slowly until he reached her lips and kissed her. His hands cupped her cheeks carefully, and her arms ended up wrapped around his neck.  

- “Merry Christmas, Spencer”- she whispered, rubbing her lips against his when the kiss ended, but neither of them wanted to move apart.

- “Merry Christmas, (Y/N)” 

.

[writingblock101]

Still Insufferable (Damian Wayne x Reader)

This is a part two to Insufferable! I had an anon request this a while back and found some prompts that gave some great inspiration! Hope y’all like it! You don’t need to read part one, but it does make the transition smoother. For reference, you and Damian are 17. 

Words: 2,800 

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

Warnings: None

“Do you ever follow directions?” A familiar, condescending voice asks you from the ground. 

You spot an annoyed Damian Wayne from your upside perch, staring up at you with crossed arms. You grin, a little too excited to see someone who looks so annoyed with you. 

“I’m creating an extensive target practice!” You claim, gesturing with your bow to the targets down range

“By hanging upside from the rafters?” Damian raises an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“You’re questioning my methods.” 

“I’m not questioning it,” Damian corrects. “I’m saying it’s stupid.” 

You gasp in mock offense then unhook your legs and flip to the floor. 

“Your words wound me!” 

“You’ll recover,” Damian says dryly. 

“I thought you would approve of me making a more comprehensive training.”

“You were hanging upside down from the rafters. How is that more comprehensive?” Damian questions.

“Because I don’t always get the pretty shot with the perfect set up in the field!” You argue. “Sometimes, I’m making the shot while hanging upside down with a broken toe!” 

Damian pauses, his eyes flickering to your feet. 

“Is your toe broken?” He asks.

He almost sounds concerned. It’s kind of sweet. 

“No,” You admit. “But what if it was?” 

He blinks. The concern is gone. 

“You spend too much time with Roy and Jason.” 

“Well, Roy is basically raising me at this point, so yeah, kind of,” You point out. 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“Mission briefing.” 

“Aw, you came all the way here to tell me yourself,” You tease Damian, aware of the various intercoms around the Tower.

He scowls at you, but doesn’t dampen your good mood. 

“I was the closest to the range. It made the most sense for me to come tell you.” 

“No need to make excuses,” You shrug. “I get it, I’m amazing and you can’t resist being around me.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You know, that line didn’t fool me when we were 12 and it’s still not fooling me now.” 

Damian’s scowl deepens. 

“Mission briefing, now.” Then he walks off before you can make another smart ass comment. 

Sometimes, Damian makes it too easy. You hit the switch to pull the targets back in, figuring you’ll get your arrows later. 

You’ve been an official Teen Titan for a few months now. After Roy talked you into tagging along with the team for a mission, you were hooked. The rest of the team agreed to extend an invite to you, which you happily accepted. You love the team, including Damian. Despite your constant bickering, you and Damian work well together in the field, enhancing each other’s skills. 

In all honesty, you really enjoy being around Damian. While he’s a bit uptight, when he relaxes, he’s fun to be around. You’ve enjoyed getting to see the more relaxed side of Damian. Besides, it's fun to have someone who keeps up with every sarcastic remark you make, even if it includes him calling you insufferable. It’s a bit of a long shot, but you know Damian likes you more than he makes it seem he does. 

You head to the main conference room of the tower and settle in for a long presentation. While the briefings are long, and rather boring, they’re in depth. You have to give Damian credit, even when things go wrong on missions, his extensive briefings prepare your team for almost every possibility and help make adaptations to the plan on the fly. 

You fiddle with a pen, unscrewing it, laying out the pieces then put it back together as Damian talks. As you get more fidgety the longer the meeting goes on, Damian wordlessly slides a new pen over to you with a slightly different composition. You smile at him and busy your hands with taking part the new pen. Damian’s cheeks darken slightly, but before anyone can notice, he’s back in leader mode. 

Damian pulls up the blueprint, running through everyone’s role and position for the mission.

“And Black Falcon, you’re with me, handling guards on the roof and additional security measures.”

“The dream team,” You grin with a wink.

Damian rolls his eyes and ignores your remark. Instead, he fields any questions then dismisses the team. You glance down at the file briefing in front of you then remember one last question for Damian. As a few Titans clear out, you wander to the front of the room where Damian is studying the blueprint from the presentation. 

“Hey, boss man,” You wave your file at him. “This building is using the Kingsley Security system. What are your thoughts about debuting the new hacking arrows?” 

Damian frowns, flipping to the page with the schematics concerning the security system. 

“How effective is the firewall on the arrows?” 

“If you’re worried about them tracking back to us, the arrows’ firewall should be strong enough to erase our trail.” 

“Should be?” Damian raised an eyebrow. 

“They’ll be fine, but I don’t like to make guarantees.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because sometimes, shit happens.” 

“I don’t like variables.” 

“Well, Dames, I’ve got bad news for you about how life works.” 

You cross your arms, leaning your hip against the table. 

“I don’t like variables on my missions when lives are on the line,” Damian says, scanning over the Kingsley credentials. 

“We’re connected to a computer with the highest level of security to currently exist. Even if they manage to trace back the arrows, they won’t get far.” 

Jon and Colin watch you two bicker about arrows and security.

“He likes having someone to argue with way too much,” Colin mutters to Jon. 

Jon nods along. 

“You’re telling me. He’s not going to do anything about it though.” 

Colin cracks a grin. 

“He’s just gonna roll his eyes and tell her she’s insufferable.” 

Jon and Colin snicker, catching Damian’s attention. He narrows his eyes at the two who sit innocently. 

“Listen,” You bring Damian’s attention back to you. “It’s your mission and I’ll respect whatever you want to do, but the only way for me to improve the arrows design is to test them.” 

“I’ll consider it,” Damian says. 

His phone lights up with notification on the table. Your eyes dart toward the light and your eyebrows go up. Damian catches your eye and snatches his phone off the table with red cheeks.

“Am I your lock screen?” You ask with a small grin. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Damian shoves his phone in his back pocket. 

“Really?” Your grin grows as your eyebrows move higher. 

Jon and Colin watch with shit eating grins. 

“Grayson set it,” Damian growls. “I haven’t bothered to change it.” 

“Sure, he did,” You nod. “It’s a cute picture.” 

The picture is after Damian and Bruce got into a huge argument, bad enough that Damian called Dick to get him out of the Manor. Dick figured it would be a good day to give Damian a childhood experience he missed out on and decided to take Damian to a theme park. Knowing you were in town with Jason while Roy was handling some business in Gotham, he talked Jason into bringing you. While at the park, Dick insisted you and Damian needed to try a funnel cake since neither of you had ever had one. 

You and Damian decided to split one since Dick warned you they were pretty sweet. When you and Damian tried your first bites, Damian’s face instantly scrunched up which made you laugh and Dick managed to catch the moment on camera. 

Damian scowls at you while you just grin. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone and ruin your reputation,” You laugh, leaving the room. 

Damian scowls at you as you leave and returns his attention to collecting his files. 

“Ah Dames, get that look off your face, we all know how you feel,” Jon teases. 

Damian turns, scowling at Jon. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure you don’t,” Colin rolls his eyes. “We can all tell you like Y/N.” 

“She’s--”

“Insufferable,” Jon finishes. “Yeah, we know. You know, just because you keep saying it, doesn’t mean it’s actually true.” 

“And you know, we get it, you’re a condensing, uptight dick--” Colin starts to rattle off. 

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me?” Damian scowls at Colin. 

“It saves time,” He grins at his friend. “But, despite those things, you can be charming when you want to be. And if you actually acted on that charm, Y/N would agree to a date with you.” 

Jon stares at Colin for a minute, looking unimpressed then turns to Damian. 

“My advice is much more subtle. Stop being an ass.” 

“I didn’t ask for advice,” Damian growls. 

“We are aware and we also are aware that you never will,” Colin nods. 

“Why not let yourself be happy, Dames?” Jon asks. 

“I am happy,” Damian glares at the two of them then walks out of the room, tired of hearing their advice. 

“Think he’ll listen?” Colin asks. 

Jon shrugs. 

“Who knows.” 

. . . 

Your back hits the ground but you roll to the balls of your feet, breathing hard. You tighten your grip on your bo staff, ready to lunge for another hit when you notice Damian walk into the training room. As he walks toward you, you straighten up and grab your water, figuring it’s time for a break. Damian raises his eyebrows at your bo staff. 

“That’s not your normal choice in weapons,” He observes. 

You shrug, taking a swing of water and ignoring your cheeks heating up. While you wanted to expand your training, you’ve seen Damian using a bo staff a lot. He seems to like them so you figured you’d give them a shot. Besides, Tim has given you a few pointers. 

“Decided to try something new,” You say casually. 

Damian quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing else. 

“I’ve been thinking--” He starts. 

“A dangerous pastime,” You nod solemnly. 

Damian glares at you but continues, as if he didn’t hear your sarcastic comment. 

“We have a strong enough firewall on the computer in the Tower that if your arrows malfunctioned, we could detect and fight a security breach.” 

“So, I can bring them on the mission?” You finish. 

“Yes.” 

“Sweet!” You grin, pumping your fist. 

Damian rolls his eyes again at your celebration, but you can see him trying not to smile. He turns to leave, but you look back at the bo staff you were training with. 

“Wait! Damian!” You call. 

He turns, looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

“You’re better with a bo staff than I am,” You admit. “Wanna help me out?” 

Damian’s eyes flicker between you and the bo staff. You see a small smile fighting its way onto his face. 

“I’ll change into something more suiting for training.” 

You grin, spinning the staff around you then go into a mock solute. 

“Yes, commander.” 

Damian rolls his eyes again, but leaves to change. 

. . . 

You swing your staff up hard, but Damian blocks it and swipes at your legs with a low kick. Grinning as he falls into the expected move, you flip your staff around and hit Damian’s side. He grunts and moves again, this time, landing a hard blow to your arm. You grimace at the force, but swing your staff around again and manage to knock Damian’s legs out from under him with a move he showed you. 

Damian hits the ground hard with a grunt, but instead of rolling to his feet for another hit, he lays on the ground, looking a little dazed. 

“I got it!” You cheered as Damian sits up, watching you with a small smile. 

“Drive your hips more so the power doesn’t come from your arms as much,” He instructs. 

“You know, with all the archery I do,” You flex a muscular arm. “I’m pretty sure my arms are stronger than my hips at this point.” 

Damian rolls his eyes as he pushes himself to his feet. You swear you sees his eyes lingering on your flexed arm. 

“Basic anatomy,” He claims. 

“Right, your definition of “basic” and a normal person’s is pretty different.” 

Damian raises an eyebrow at you. 

“How do you mean?” 

You narrow your eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t,” But the slow start of a shit eating grin on his face tells you Damian knows how you meant that statement. 

You groan, throwing your hands up. 

“Okay, fine, Wayne. I’ll give it to you, you’re pretty smart.” 

“Am I now?” Damian full on grins, making your heart flutter. 

You roll your eyes again, despite your raised heart rate. 

“I’m not going to say it again.” 

“I didn’t think you would. It doesn’t change the truth.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Why do I still like you, knowing you’re a total asshole?” You question as you walk toward your water. 

Damian freezes for a moment, your words slowly mulling over in his head. Before he can say anything else, his watch beeps. Damian looks down at it with a scowl.

“Duty calls?” You ask, handing Damian his water. 

He looks up from the notification and nods. 

“Get dressed, we leave in ten minutes.”

. . . 

Following your normal post mission tradition, you relax on the roof with a few boxes of take out. You dig into your box of fried rice, enjoying the view as your legs dangle over the edge of the huge tower. The roof access door opens and someone sits next to you but you don’t have to turn to see who. Wordlessly, you hold out Damian’s vegetarian Lo Mein which you took the courtesy to grab while he showered after the mission. 

“Your arrows worked,” Damian comments, accepting the box from you and digging in with his own chopsticks. 

“Mmhm,” You hum with a smirk. “Told you.” 

Damian rolls his eyes. 

“Of course you wouldn’t be able to resist making a childish remark.” 

You grin, nudging Damian’s shoulder. 

“You knew I already knew the arrows worked. You just wanted to hear me say it.” 

“I absolutely did not.” 

“Sure you didn’t. I’m irresistible.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Damian corrects. 

“I still don’t believe that line.” 

“Your belief does not change the truth.” 

You laugh, leaning against Damian as you both continue eating, enjoying the view and each other’s company. After the first time Damian joined you on the roof, it became both of your traditions to enjoy your post mission meals together. Later, you would rejoin the team for game night or movie night, but for now, you two enjoy your quiet meals and unwind peacefully. 

Once your meals are finished and the boxes are discarded to the side, you scoot closer to Damian, resting your head on his shoulder. He slowly places a hand on your knee, seeming a bit uncertain. You smile to yourself and squeeze his arm, scooting a little closer to encourage him. He leans into you, seeming more relaxed by the affection. 

“You know,” You finally say after a few minutes of silently watching the sun set. “I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned.” 

“How much did you intend to like me?” Damian asks.

You feel him starting to go stiff. 

“Well, given you insulted me when I first met you,” You point out with a shrug. “I didn’t expect to like you very much.” 

“And now?” Damian asks hesitantly. 

You lift your head from Damian’s shoulder to look at him, your noses inches away.

“Now, you’re pretty alright,” You tease, admiring his pretty green eyes. 

Damian rolls his eyes with a small laugh. 

“Just alright?” He asks, squeezing your knee lightly. 

“Well,” You shrug again, feeling your heart pound. “Maybe a little more than alright.” 

You stare at each other for a long moment until Damian’s eyes flicker to your lips. Here goes nothing. Before you can bring yourself to regret, you close the small distance between each other and press your lips to his. He’s hesitant for a moment, stiff against you. Before you can pull away, Damian’s fingers sink into your hair, pulling you closer as he kisses you back. 

You melt into the kiss and grip his shirt tightly. As he shifts his head to deepen the kiss, a voice yells from behind you: 

“It’s about time!” 

You and Damian jump apart, still holding a hand on each other to see Jon standing by the roof access door. Damian scowls at him while Jon grins like he’s just won the lottery. 

“You have no idea how annoying it was so watch you two pretend like you don’t like each other,” Jon rolls his eyes. “Come on, we’re starting game night.” 

He disappears back through the door as you look back at Damian. 

“Well, duty calls,” You joke, sliding off the ledge. 

Damian turns, catches your wrist, and tugs you back to him.

“They can wait,” He mutters to you, kissing you again. 

You happily melt into the kiss, your hands on Damian’s chest as his hands slide to your hips. 

“Am I still insufferable?” You tease against Damian’s lips. 

He smirks, standing to his feet and pulling you close by your waist. 

“Yes,” He kisses you again. 

I’ve been writing things as I get inspiration. I think I’ll be compiling a prompt lists soon because I have some request... They are really big ideas and I don’t think I can take on any projects that big right now. I hope you enjoyed! 

[jeontaehui]

Dream VS. Dream | JAEMIN VS. TAEHEE

taehee scribbles each question she came up with down on the white paper, easily copying the ones she had prepared beforehand from her phone.

she makes eye contact with jaemin from across the set and gives him a playful wink, eliciting an enthusiastic reaction from the latter, “YEAHHH! SEXY!”

taehee finishes a few seconds before jaemin does and she looks to the camera to say that she came prepared. “i think i was too excited for filming this kind of content,” she giggles, “so i prepared them beforehand even if i didn’t know who i was gonna be with, but i changed some questions so jaeminie could answer.”

“it’s a mix of hard and easy questions,” taehee explains, yet her tone was unsure. “but jaemin-ssi is observant,” she nods, playing with the strings of her top, “and attentive, so i think he’ll get these right.”

“hello, jaemin-ssi,” she politely bows once they were both seated in front of each other, “what brings you here today?”

jaemin snorts, “what brings me here today?” taehee nods, anticipating a ‘jaemin’ kind of answer from him. “i was just passing by,” he says calmly, “being sexy.”

“ohh, being sexy?” taehee repeats, “you’re doing great so far.” jaemin lets out another chuckle before asking the same question she asked him, “how about you, miss jeon taehee? what brings you here today?”

“oh i’m a reporter,” she tells him, and jaemin’s mouth forms into an ‘o’, “i report what’s on-set. this is the interview portion and i’m holding my cue cards.”

“are you only interviewing me?” “yes, i’m only interviewing you.” “i feel special then,” jaemin shrugs proudly, showing his pearly white teeth at the camera. 

“ladies first.” “okay, i’ll start with an easy one — what is my favorite ice cream flavor?” taehee raises both brows, expecting jaemin to get it right away yet he says, “easy, mint choco.” a short laugh escapes her as she shakes her head, “no? mango? no also… is this a flavor from baskin robbin’s?” the disbelieving grins they have on each of their faces begin to match, “jaemin-ah!” “it is mint choco!” “no!”

“jaemin,” she says, tone serious but the smile on her face says otherwise, “just think simply.” one, two, three seconds pass…. “cookies and cream?” “good job!” jaemin finally chuckles in relief, “how can i not get that?” she clicks her tongue at him, “right?”

“what was the first menu we had together?” she asks next, and jaemin decides to think a lot longer before answering, “it was in 2019, right?” taehee nods, “ah, tangsuyuk!”

“it’s funny how you remember that because we only ate together like.. twice,” she giggles. 

“next one!” jaemin says in english, causing taehee to giggle at his adorableness. “which of your things do i want to have?” his eyes widen, “which of my things do you want to have?” “mhmm.” “can you give me a hint?” she bites the inside of her cheek before answering, “you bring this to set.. or like every time we travel or go out.” jaemin’s eyes light up as he answered, “ahh camera! i remember you telling me now, yeah.” 

“jaemin’s really good at taking pictures,” taehee tells the camera, “he takes them so well, and then you’re good at editing too.” jaemin could only smile at her and nod, feeling wholesome at her shower of compliments. 

“i like taking pictures of you the most,” he tells her, surprising taehee. “really?” a soft hum sounds out of him, “and you don’t really take pictures of yourself, noona... you should take more pictures of yourself, you’re pretty.” “alright~” taehee brushes him off with a playful roll of her eyes, hiding the fact that she was feeling shy with his nice words, “okay, next question!” 

“this one’s fill in the blanks,” she gives him a short glance before proceeding, “i wish jaemin was my ... blank.” he tilts his head to the left, thinking, “i wish jaemin was my blank. i have no clue.” 

“think of this,” taehee decides to give him a hint, “you’re caring. you take care of the members really well. you’re a good hyung and a good cook!” jaemin titters for a short while, before a blank expression dawns over his features as he shakes his head, “i still don’t know.” 

“older brother,” taehee tells him, putting the piece of paper behind the rest of her stack. jaemin’s brows raise in surprise, “really?” he hears a positive hum out of her, “i don’t know if it was jisung or someone else, but i told them, ‘jaeminie would be a good older brother’ and they said, ‘why not me?’“ they both laugh at that, it was definitely jisung. 

“i can be your older brother starting now,” he tells her. “are you serious?” “yeah but you have to call me ‘oppa’,” a giggle escapes jaemin at the way taehee freezes, watching her resume to fiddling with the papers in her hands, “ahh... it comes with that.”

“okay, last question!” taehee laughs before she could even get her sentence out, “what did i recently buy?” the younger boy’s eyes drift across the set as he repeated her question, mumbling. 

“ah!” he exclaims after a few seconds, his eyes crinkling as he laughed, “a turtle! rocky!” his chuckles were contagious, and taehee finds herself cracking up at the memory. “noona and i were sent to buy take out for the team,” jaemin starts, “so i waited in the car, but noona wanted to come out so she did and went in the same direction as our manager.” this is the part where taehee starts hiding her giggles with her palm, “when manager noona came back, alone, i went, ‘huh? where’s taehee noona?’ and then she comes by a few minutes later from the opposite direction with a turtle!”

“as soon as she went inside the car, she said, ‘everyone, meet rocky!’ and our manager went,” he widens his eyes into a pointed stare, his mouth going agape as he imitated their manager’s expression. you could hear taehee’s as well as jisung’s laughs from off-screen. “and you said, ‘that is definitely not food!’” taehee adds. 

"what came into your mind that made you decide to buy a turtle?” jaemin grins, looking at the latter with amusement in his eyes. “you know how taeyong hyung has an aquarium in their dorm?” she answers him, “it’s nice to look at and i thought our dorm can have something like that too.” 

“so jaemin got everything correct—” “i think i only got four though.” “let’s just say you got everything correct,” she brushes him off quickly with her hand, chuckling, “so now it’s jaemin’s turn to ask!” 

“what’s the most recent item i purchased?” he throws at her, and taehee subtly sighs as she looked off set, thinking. “speaker?” she answers unsure, but jaemin’s smile tells her she’s correct before they proceed with the next question. 

“how many speakers do i have?” taehee brings both hands to her chest as she tells him excitedly, “i know this! i remember counting it in your room!” jaemin chuckles at her cuteness, “so do you remember?” “wait, give me a moment.”

taehee taps her feet on the floor as she fidgets. “speakers come in pairs, right?” she asks him, “are they all by pairs?” jaemin shakes his head, “nope, not all.” 

“mm, including the ones you bought yesterday.. six?” taehee’s eyes light up with hopefulness, making jaemin’s smile grow wider at her enthusiasm, but he shakes his head again. “ten?” her eyes widen when he tells her she’s correct, before furrowing her brows at the number. “why do you need ten speakers? wouldn’t you hear anything outside if you have that many?” jaemin laughs, “no, for the surround system, i need it.” “ahh,” she nods understandingly, “that’s cool.”

“for editing photos, which device do i use?” “the computer! imac!” “there’s more,” he tells her. “imac.. ipad?” she raises a brow, continuing when she sees jaemin nod. “imac, ipad, i... phone!” taehee shouts victoriously, “iphone, your phone. right?” he grins at her proudly, “you’re getting so much right. good job.” 

“what’s my favorite color?” he asks, expecting she’d get this question right. “black,” he shakes his head no. “white,” nope. “you don’t seem like a blue type of person though... pink?” jaemin laughs, “noona! this is super easy!”

“mint hoodie—” “nope!” “that wasn’t an answer! i was just pointing it out,” he chuckles at her blatant excuse, deciding to give her a hint. “noona,” jaemin drops his head down to the floor before facing her with a serious gaze, “you’re holding it right now.” she flips her own stack of papers quickly and grins, “yellow! i was just about to say that, you should’ve waited for me. talent takes time, jaeminie.” the younger boy snorts, “getting answers right isn’t a talent.”

“what is my favorite dog breed?” she finds the fourth question the hardest so far, “there are lots of dog breeds out there!” jaemin starts to look around the set and call a member out, “jeno! where’s jeno? i’m sure jeno knows.” taehee’s mouth closes and opens like a fish out of water until she stops and gives him a sarcastic look, “do i look like jeno to you?” (jisung, from off the screen, laughs loudly at this.)

“jeno knows it the best,” he tells her. a small pout appears on taehee’s face yet it disappears in a split second, starting to shuffle the papers in between her hands, “i gave you questions that had you in it and you give me a question jeno knows best, huh.” jaemin laughs at the scoff that leaves taehee afterwards. he shakes his head softly, “he knows it best because it looks like him.” taehee blinks two or three more times before she gets it right, “ah, samoyed! it’s a samoyed.” 

“i didn’t know that about you,” she mentions, “do you like it because it looks like jeno?” a short laugh escapes jaemin at her question, but he answers her simply with, “i just like it. it’s cute.”

“what game do i play these days?” taehee points her finger to him, “you play with haechan, yeah? apex.” an evil-sounding laugh comes out of jaemin knowing that she wouldn’t get this question so easily, “no? pubg.” “nope.” “okay then, is it on the phone or on the computer?” he shakes his head at her, “if i tell you, you’d get it right away. it’s not on both.” 

taehee hums, “rock, paper, scissors?” he gives her another sly hint, “no, think of a nonsensical answer.” she clicks her tongue, “don’t break the ice.” 

jaemin throws his head back with a laugh, before telling her the answer, “none.” he says that with such finality that taehee looks to the side in faux annoyance, tongue brushing against the side of her cheek, much to the amusement of the latter. “it’s so fun, right?” jaemin teases, “next one... i do not have it, so taehee noona got everything right in a sense.” taehee nods with him, leaning back and looking at the camera, “right, jaemin got everything correct too.”

“we actually know each other so well,” she says, glancing towards jaemin as he agrees with her, “this was a piece of cake.” she starts to get on her feet while the other does the same, putting their hands out for a polite handshake at the end of the video. 

taehee tries to put an arm around the taller boy, chuckling for a bit when she had to tiptoe to reach his height. she doesn’t notice the grin jaemin sports because of this, “we’ll continue to know more about each other in the future.. and eat together more often! we should eat together more often.” she meets jaemin’s adoring gaze when she faces him, and so she grabs him by the elbow and starts leading them both off-set, “thank you!” “dream vs. dream, bye bye!” 

[beauvibaby]

boudoir - j.benn

a/n: not proofread, but plus size reader x Jamie  😌

“Babe? You got a package.” Jamie called into the house, you heard the crinkle of a shipping bag in his hand and raised your eyebrows, trying to remember what you had ordered. A gasp fell from your lips as you realized what it was, Jamie froze, halfway to setting it down on the counter when you came bounding down the hallway, all but stealing the package from his grasp. “Well, hello to you too.” He mumbled in confusion as you put the bag behind your bag, you laughed under your breath, “hi babe.” You stepped forward to kiss him quickly. “Why so secretive?” He raised an eyebrow at you. You bounced on your feet, a girlish smile on your face, “it’s part of your anniversary present.” You admitted. “Part?” He asked as you turned and started walking away, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for another month?!” He added, “perfection takes time, Jamie!” You shouted in response.

When Jamie left for a game a couple of nights later, you tried on the set you had gotten online, finding yourself more than happy with the way the lingerie fit you. Normally it was a hassle to find something that fit you properly, that gave your curves the right type of definition, and this was definitely, definitely that.

The photo shoot went even better than you could have imagined, the photographer was kind and patient, directing you to pose in certain ways, and assuring you that you looked amazing— that you and Jamie both would love what came from the session. You’d don’t plenty of research on boudoir shoots, finally setting one up with someone who was used to doing plus size shoots.

You walked into the house, giddy and nervous to see the final pictures from the photo shoot you’d just done, you knew it would be a few days until they were finished, but the excitement was still there. “Hey.” Jamie smiled, turning to look at you over the back of the couch, he did a double take as he saw the makeup on your face that he was certain wasn’t there when you left. “Got a secret man I should be worried about?” He teased as you walked over to him, you leaned down to kiss him, smiling against his lips when he put his hand there to hold you in place a little longer. “You look pretty, baby.” He murmured, pecking you once more before letting you go. “Thanks.” You giggled, reaching out to wipe some of the red lipstick off of him, he complained as you teased him for it. “What did you do today?” He questioned, pausing whatever show he was watching as you did your small routine like hanging up your purse and putting away your shoes. “Hung out with some of my friends, got lunch, nothing special.” You explained, the whole thing being a lie, a good lie of course. “Did you have fun?” He asked, watching you like a lost puppy, “yes.” You answered with a breathy laugh as you caught his gaze. “Did you miss me?” You teased, your only response being a wide smile.

***

You nearly bounded into her studio, eager to pick up Jamie’s anniversary present on your way home from work. “Hi, Y/N.” Sheila laughed as you walked in with a grin, she handed the leather bound album right over, she anxiously watched you open it, “oh my god.” You gasped, hand shooting to your mouth as you looked through the pictures of yourself, you saw yourself completely different now. You felt like you were on top of the world, “Sheila, oh my god, thank you.” You looked over at her, “of course!” She grinned, happy to see your reaction. “Be sure to tell me what Jamie thinks.” She added with a giggle,

“Jamie?” You shouted into the house, you’d spent the last ten minutes in the car trying to figure out what to write on the blank page on the book. You settled on a sentimental message for your husband, putting the book back into the box before heading inside.

“Office!” He called out in response, you were about to kick your heels off and head for him, but you bit your lip and decided on keeping them on, letting them click along the floor as you walked towards Jamie’s office. “I’m about to do an interview.” He spoke as he clicked away on the computer, he glanced up at you and saw the happy smile on your face as you leaned against the doorway. “Alright, guess I’ll just give you this when you’re done.” You smiled over at him, slightly shaking the box, he raised an eyebrow, “ok, I shouldn’t be too long.” He laughed softly as you nodded eagerly. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” You called already clicking your way down the hall. He stared at the door curiously for a moment, wondering what it was that you had gotten him.

***

It felt like an eternity but in reality it was only forty five minutes until your husband came padding down the hall to find you. “Hey, babe.” He hummed, seeing you stretched out on the bed, your work clothes long gone as you wore one of his shirts and some leggings. He chuckled as you popped up, “come here.” You demanded eagerly, it was a couple of days early, but you couldn’t wait any longer, this had been nearly a month in the making. “Wow, my day was good, thanks.” He teased, joining you against the headboard where you were now sitting, you laughed and pulled him in for a kiss. “I missed you, how was your day Jam?” You asked as he plopped down beside you, hooking an arm over your shoulder, “better now.” He quipped, reaching for the box. “It’s a little early, but it’s your anniversary present.” You mumbled, he grinned over at you, slowly pulling the lid off the box. You turned to be facing him more as he moved the tissue paper aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he lifted the leather book out, he pushed the box away and set the book down on his lap, flipping the cover open and reading your message.

He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “I love you.” He mumbled, caressing your cheek for a moment, “I love you too.” You whispered, biting your lip as he flipped the page over, he froze for a moment, eyes widening s bit. He shut the book dramatically, looking over at you, you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Keep going.” You encouraged, scooting closer to him as he moved to the next page of the book, “oh my god.” He muttered under his breath as he continued flipping through the book. You giggled as he threw his head back with a breathy chuckle as his face reddened. “Baby, these are, wow. You’re gorgeous.” He gasped, so in awe of what he was looking at.  “The last one is my favorite.” You admitted as he reached the end, he flipped to the last page, smirking as he looked at the photo of you on the floor, head resting on the front of a couch seat, back arched, one hand on your bent knee, the other pushing your hair up as you looked directly into the camera, lips parted in a smug smile.

“You know what I think?” He spoke up, holding the book out in front of the two of you, your favorite picture staring back at you. “What?” You asked softly, confused as to what he was going to say. “I say that I order a big print of this to hang up.” He teased, sending you into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, that’s not happening Jamie.” You pushed on his shoulder lightly, shrieking as he tossed the book down to the edge of the bed, quickly moving over you. “You’re the best wife ever.” He mumbled, kissing across your face, “I love those pictures, but I love even more that they made you feel so good about yourself.” He admitted, smiling against your lips as you quickly pulled him in for a kiss. “You know,” you started, rolling your head to the side as he kissed across your neck, “they do couples shoots too.” You watched him lift his head up, giving you a curious look. “Mhm, no, I’d much rather look at you in lace than me.”

taglist: @heybarzy​ @kiedhara​ @anxietyandtacos​ @literarycharleton​ @miracleonice87​

[harrywritingsbyme]

Going Virtual

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I love this concept sm!! like Harry is in full pest mode with this one lmao...but it’s cute. Enjoy🙃

School was back in session. Not only was Harry’s 7 year old beginning the first day of 3rd grade, you were also in school and going into your sophomore year of college. Harry had gotten so comfortable spending all of his time with you both over the past 6 months, and even more since June that he was practically dying from boredom because of having all this newfound time to himself. And it wasn’t even alone time. It was him being all by himself while you two were confined to your respective spaces in the house to get you guys’ schoolwork done. You guys were literally so close, but yet so far away from him now. All he wanted to do was pull you both away from the computers to spend time together. The only moments he had with you or his son were the brief periods when either of you summoned him for assistance or for a refreshment of your snacks. With school in the picture even more, there was just about no time in the day for Harry. At least when you two physically went to school you both were kind of out of sight out of mind so to speak given the fact that he didn’t have much accessibility to either of you during the day.

Now even though you and Harry’s son were in school and doing schoolwork during the day, it didn’t stop Harry from being a bit of a pest at times. And he was mainly a pest to you. When he would bring you guys snacks while you were taking care of your assignments, during and after school, he’d try his hardest to shift some of you guys’ attention onto him. Now he wouldn’t try as hard to get at his son. The most he’d do was attempt to instigate a tickle fight or offer up some play time. But due to Harry’s successful efforts to have consistency and put your work first before play when raising his son, his tactics weren’t being accepted at all. Bubs would simply tell Harry, or daddy for that matter, to stop and that he could play with him later. And because he was so adorable and Harry couldn’t get enough of him, he’d give his cheeks a good pinch with a kiss to the forehead before offering to help with his work.

But with you on the other hand, Harry didn’t go that easy.

Instead of just leaving you alone after you pushed him away, he continued on. He’d try to pull your chair away from the table while you’re typing away on your computer. He’d also sit on the floor while you’re in your zoom classes and pull at your pants leg or hem of your shorts depending on what clothing item you threw onto your body before your class. And eventually he did in fact leave once you practically (and almost literally) kicked him out of the room. But he didn’t stop his little attacks to get your attention there. He’d even send you raunchy messages, explaining in detail all of the many ways and times he wanted to take you. And this wasn’t just during your classes; this was also when you were working on your assignments. He refused to let up. And believe it or not, Harry began working even harder to get your attention within in the last couple of weeks. It’d only been about a month and he’d already begun to intensify his “attacks”.

And today was nothing short of Harry trying to get you and bubs’ attention. If he wasn’t lying on the couch reading or trying to write or do anything that was in the slightest bit productive, Harry was checking in on you and bubs. He’d periodically make his way to you guys’ workspaces to check in and bring you snacks and any help if needed. Once he checked in on the third grader down the hall, he’d take a stroll down to your space to check in on and bug you. When you were in one of your zoom classes a bit earlier on in the day, Harry walked into the room, brought you what he normally got you at that time, then sat on the floor next to you so that he could be a pest. Today you were wearing shorts so his pest level had spiked, he was touching you and just not leaving you alone. He enjoyed making you gasp or react to his touches while your camera was on. Now even though you thought that his efforts were cute and you felt a bit bad for not spending a lot of time with him, it didn’t stop you from plucking Harry whenever you weren’t writing something down. You didn’t know why, but it was a bit nice to give him a pluck here and there while he tried to seduce you into stepping away from your computer.

To make things worse, he knew your schedule in and out! This meant that he’d come in during the tail end of one of your classes then continue being an even bigger pest when you were trying to get some work done in between.

“Can you please like leave me alone.” You ask calmly, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you.

“Umm no. That is, only if you take a little break right now.” Harry barters from below, continuing to touch you.

“Why don’t you go bother your son? I bet he wants to see his daddy more than I do right now.” You say matter of factly, finally turning your head down to look at him.

“Well first of all, you calling me daddy right now was a big mistake and because of it I’m going to be an even bigger pest.” Harry begins. At least he admitted to being a pest. “Now second of all, I’ve already checked on him and he doesn’t need me. So now I’m in here.” He continues on with his explanation.

“Oh my god! We’re gonna need some defense strategies against you.” You huff. “What is it going to take for you to leave me alone?” You ask, deciding to finally give into his antics of it meant that you’d have a little moment to get some Harry free work done.

“Let me make you cum and I’ll leave you alone. I know you’re already drenched since I did see that you read my messages.” Harry says.

“Fine, but hurry up. I need to get back to my paper.” You concede, standing up from your seat to let him have your way with you.

“Well you don’t have to be so hostile, it’s not like you’re not going to enjoy it. If you don’t, I’ll be reevaluating my skills while you ignore me.” Harry replies as he lifts himself up from the ground, letting out a series of grunts in the process.

“Well it never hurts an old dog to get new tricks.” You push back. The age gap was a definite hot button for the two of you so if there was any window to push it, you were going to take that opportunity.

“Well I don’t think that I’ve heard you complain about my old tricks.” Harry begins, pushing back the chair to stand behind you. “In fact, I always hear you screaming for more.” Harry whispers into your ear as he swiftly tugs your shorts and panties down your legs in one motion.

“Maybe.” You reply defiantly, trying to stand your ground with him.

“That’s where you’re mistaken baby.” Harry hums, bringing a hand down between your legs. “And judging but the stickiness between your legs, you know that it’s not just maybe either.” Harry continues, pushing two of his fingers up and down your folds before finally pushing them into your entrance.

“Oh my god.” You sigh,  taking in the feeling of his fingers entering you. You hated it when he was right, but this time he was, his fingers felt so good.

“Not so mad at me bothering you now huh?” He chuckles behind you, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“No” You whimper. His fingers were doing wonders to your body. And that was all he was doing. Hw was simply fucking his fingers into your hole and you were falling apart as you clutched onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

“Good girl.” He praises, bringing his face to your neck to sponge kisses into your neck as he pleasures you. While he continues pumping his fingers into you, he moves his hand that was securely planted on your waist down to your front to begin circling two of his fingers around your clit.

Right now, you were going insane. Your paper was now long forgotten; at least for the time being. Harry’s hands were like magic between your legs and you could feel yourself beginning to drift closer to the edge. There was a special warmth that infiltrated your body when you were getting closer to letting go, and you were starting to feel it move through your body. You were also beginning to feel the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten.

“Can feel y’clenching up around me, wanna cum sweets?” Harry hums into your ear, fanning his warm breath across your skin and creating goosebumps all across your body in the process.

“Please daddy.” You pant in response, feeling your lower half begin to go numb.

“Let go f’me baby.” He whispers, pushing his fingers as deep as possible and holding it there while continuing to stimulate your clit.

“Fuck!” You exclaim lowly, trying to hold back your moans as you cum around his fingers.

“That’s it sweet girl.” Harry praises happily, feeling your walls contract around his fingers. While you continue riding the wave of your release, Harry keeps his fingers inside of you and he continues placing kisses onto your neck as well. And once you finish riding out the amazing orgasm that ripped right through you, your mind goes right back to what you need to get done. And to be honest, for some reason that was unbeknownst to Harry, he absolutely loved that about you.

“Can I go write my paper now.” You huff shakily, trying to move your feet around to reagin more feeling in your legs and trying to get your mind straight again.

“Only if you promise to spend some more time with me and bubs later, we miss you.” Harry bargains, slowly removing his fingers from inside of you.

“Fine.” You breathe out cheerfully. In that moment, you didn’t exactly know what you were happy about. You weren’t sure if you were happy about getting a nice little break in the monotony of your work or of it was from the fact that Harry was finally going to leave you alone for a little while or that you were going to finally spend some time with the little family you were lucky enough to be apart of. Either way, you were definitely going to take a bit of a break later.

And let’s just say that this school year was going to be a bit of an interesting one for Harry.

Masterlist

[kikis-writing-world]

Love is Blind

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (her hair is described in that it is long enough to braid, and it is brushed by another character. Sorry if that alienates anyone)

Word Count: 8.4k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies and glossing over of canon-typical violence, injury leading to temporary blindness, talks of medical procedures (vague descriptions cause idk what I’m doing,) mentions of pregnancy (Whiskey talks about his dead wife) If I missed anything please let me know. It’s a long one and I tried to mark down anything that might need warning.

Summary: The mission was going perfectly until you were caught by a stupid trap, spraying some kind of toxin in your face. Now you’re (temporarily?) blinded and have to find out what that means for your future with Statesman.

The dust settled over the room as the chaos gave way to silence. You waited a beat, taking a deep breath before speaking out.

“Clear.” You spoke softly, knowing the message would be transmitted to your partner. Despite your confidence that you’d taken out the men on your side of the room, you kept your pistol firmly in your grasp.

“Clear.” The response came through your ear piece, the voice tinny in your ear. The bass tones were missing, but it was unmistakably Agent Whiskey’s southern drawl. You stood from your cover behind a large, leather sofa and surveyed the mess. Whiskey was standing behind the bar in the corner of the room doing the same.

“Nice work.” You nodded at him, noticing several bodies elegantly cleaved in half from his lasso.

“Same to you, ‘Rhett.” Whiskey returned the compliment, stepping around the bar. You glared at him for shortening your name - he knew you hated that - but you were stopped from responding as a third voice joined the conversation through your earpieces. “Intel puts the plates in a safe behind the painting. The landscape behind the desk” Ginger’s voice instructed from HQ, watching the scene through the micro-cameras you were both wearing: Whiskey’s in his bolo tie and yours on a broach on your vest.

You and Whiskey both turned to look at the large painting on the far side of the room. It, and the desk it sat behind, were riddled with bullet holes and other damage from the fray. It was still hanging askew on the wall. You crossed the room easily, stepping over the various bodies on the way. Whiskey let you take the lead, keeping a watch while you turned your back to the room.

The painting fell with a nudge from the barrel of your gun, revealing the safe tucked into the wall. A 10 digit keypad with a small screen kept it locked. You leaned in, making sure your broach was pointed at it. “Ginger?”

“Got it Amaretto. Analyzing.” You could picture the woman typing away, executing different commands as she analyzed the image you broadcast back to her computer. You knew she was using possible heat signatures, wear on the numbers, oil deposits, not to mention the tech you didn’t understand to crack the code. You could hear Whiskey shifting around the room behind you as you waited.

“7298,” Ginger instructed. You entered the code and the lock clicked, the door swinging ajar.

“Thanks, Ging.” You acknowledged before addressing Whiskey. “We’re in.”

“And?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at you, but keeping himself angled out into the room in case of trouble.

You pushed the safe’s door the rest of the way open seeing a large, black briefcase inside. If the intel was right, inside it would be counterfeiting plates. A small time counterfeiting ring had somehow paired up with a large terrorist ring, laundering the fake money into real profit to fund their plans. Taking down this ring would be a big, although likely temporary, hit to the terrorists.

You pulled the briefcase out of the safe, setting it onto the desk. There were no locks on the briefcase, just the latches keeping it closed. While that should have been suspicious, your excitement of completing the mission had you pushing forward. You unlatched and opened the lid.

Before you could see what was inside, something shot out of the case. You were sprayed in the face and neck with a cool, goopy liquid. You yelped in surprise, wiping frantically at your face to get it off. You stumbled backwards into the wall, falling onto your ass.

You heard Whiskey call for you the same time Ginger did through the earpiece. Whiskey was beside you quickly, pulling your hands away from your face by the wrists. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, feeling him wiping at your face and hands with some fabric. “I opened the case and it shot out at me.”

“Ginger?” Whiskey called out.

“I’m checking the footage now, running it through our databases.” The tech responded, voice level as always. “Keep a sample, but find some water to get it off her. I’m sure it’s some kind of safety measure.”

“Stay here.” Whiskey ordered before he left your side.

You nodded, trying to remain calm as the substance started to sting your eyes. You relayed that information back to Ginger.

“What else can you tell me about it, Amaretto?” She asked.

“It’s viscous. Like syrup.” You told her, feeling the slimy coating it still left on your skin after Whiskey had tried to wipe it away. “Cool to the touch. Smells like… flowers? Definitely floral.”

“Okay. That’s good. That’s helpful. Anything else, let me know. It will help us identify it quicker.”

Whiskey returned as Ginger spoke. You jumped at his sudden presence beside you.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Got the water and a cloth.” He narrated as to not spook you when the wet rag touched your skin.

“Flush out her eyes and get out of there.” Ginger instructed as your partner wiped your face clean. The cloth disappeared and Whiskey’s large hand was on the back of your head, leading you to lean over.

“I’ve got you. We just gotta wash out your eyes.” He kept talking, although you couldn’t quite tell if it was to keep you or himself calm. “Open.” He instructed.

You listened, opening your eyes and whimpering at how much it hurt to do so. The room seemed so much brighter than it had been before. You only had a moment to think on this before Whiskey was pouring the water into your eyes. You reached out for him, steadying yourself with your hands against his chest.

When the flow of water stopped, you told Ginger. “Light sensitivity. Add that to the list of symptoms.”

“Got it.” She responded. “Whiskey, grab that case and get to the jet.”

Your partner’s hands were on your arms, helping you to stand. He left you momentarily and you heard the briefcase snap closed. His arm wrapped around your waist as he led you away from the wall. You stumbled a few times over the bodies on the floor, but Whiskey did a good job of leading you. Any misstep you took or slight fumble, he never let you fall. You were lucky the two of you had dispatched everyone in the house before making it to the office. There was no one left alive to stop you as you left.

“It’s really starting to burn.” You told them, feeling tears falling from your eyes. The burning was also translating into a headache as the pain spread. It was getting harder to focus on Whiskey as he navigated the two of you out of the house.

“Stick with me, pick up your feet. I got ya.” Whiskey continued to instruct as you moved.

You knew you’d made it outside the second the sunlight hit your face. Even through closed eyelids, the light was too much to bear. You cried out in pain, shielding your eyes with your hands. You would have fallen to your knees if not for Whiskey’s firm grip on you.

“I can’t.” You cried, holding your head in your hands. “It’s too much.”

Whiskey cursed under his breath before you felt something slip atop your head and you were lifted off the ground. “Keep your head down,” Whiskey ordered, the vibrations of his voice moving through his chest against you. You could feel the bouncing of his footsteps as he ran. You removed your hands from your eyes to hold onto him, and you assumed you were wearing his hat by the way it kept the sun off your face. You buried your head into his neck to shield your eyes even more from the light.

“We’re almost there.” He promised as you trembled in his arms. 

When Whiskey had landed the jet earlier, it hadn’t seemed too far from the cabin - far enough to not alert them to your presence of course, but the trek there hadn’t seemed far. Now, it felt like he might as well be carrying you to Canada as the pain grew worse. You could hear Whiskey and Ginger talk, but it grew harder to hear them over your own groans of pain and the blood rushing through your ears. You were crying in earnest into Whiskey’s shoulder, fighting the urge to claw at your eyes.

You felt his gait change as he ascended the stairs into the jet. You could hear his voice but the words were lost on you as he set you down into a sitting position. Without him to grip onto, your hands flew to your eyes. Your arms were quickly restrained, making you yell and thrash. It was too bright. It hurt too much. The stinging was unbearable now.

You felt a single hand wrap around both wrists as you pleaded for him to let you go. You needed to do something to stop the pain.

You barely felt the pinprick to your neck. As it got harder to fight him, you realized he must have given you a sedative. He dropped your arms as your muscles grew sluggish and you felt him buckling you safely into the seat. You tried to mumble a thank you to him, but you couldn’t be sure if the words made it out of your brain as you lost consciousness.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Your surroundings came to you slowly. The feel of the stiff cot under you, covered with scratchy linens. A few quiet beeps from different machines. The sensors attached to your chest and your arms - you must be in the medical wing back at Statesman HQ. It took you a moment to remember what had landed you in medical but once you did you were pleasantly surprised to not feel any pain. 

You couldn’t remember anything after stepping outside the cabin. The last vivid memory you had was the sun hitting your face and excruciating pain shooting through your head. Whiskey must have gotten the two of you back safely.

Your eyes fluttered open meeting a dark room. You were thankful for that, remembering how severe the light sensitivity had gotten. Introducing you to light slowly was a good idea.

“You’re awake.” The voice made you jump, even though you quickly recognized it to be Ginger. You didn’t expect her to be waiting in the dark for you. “How do you feel?”

You heard the heart rate sensor beep a little quicker as you clutched your chest from the scare, laughing softly. “You scared me. I feel okay, actually. No pain.”

“That’s great.” You could hear the relief in her voice. “And your vision?”

The question gave you pause, wondering how you were supposed to test your vision in the dark. “Turn the light on and I’ll tell you.”

“What?” Ginger’s voice was clipped, fallen from the relief it held moments ago. You weren’t sure exactly what the tone was but you knew you didn’t like it.

“Turn the lights on, Ging.”

“The lights are on.” She explained. You could hear the clicking of her footsteps and the rustling of her clothes as she moved closer. A hand on your right arm made you flinch.

“That’s not funny.” You scoffed.

“I’m not joking.” She replied seriously. She was silent for a moment, the faint rustling of fabric moving again before she asked “you don’t see that at all?”

“See what?”

“I’m shining a flashlight into your eyes.”

“No you’re not.”

“Ginger!” You heard Whiskey’s drawl, echoing like it was in a different room. Footsteps, heavier than the ones you had just heard, accompanied his voice as you figured he must be entering approaching your room. “She awake yet?”

“Whiskey, tell Ginger to stop joking around.” You begged, starting to freak out. The increased beeping beside you accompanied the anxiety you were feeling spread through your body.

“What’s going on?” The cowboy asked, worry coating his voice as it moved closer.

“She can’t see anything.” Ginger admitted, her hand leaving your arm. You heard Whiskey exhale to your left, a loud breath that sounded like he’d been punched in the solar plexus.

“Why not?” He demanded.

“I don’t know.” Ginger admitted. “We’re still analyzing the substance. So far all we know is it seems to be made from orange blossoms and some kind of berry-”

“It won’t be permanent, right?” You asked, cutting Ginger off. Your voice sounded so small compared to the other two in the room. There wasn’t an answer right away, footsteps approaching from the left before a large, warm hand covered yours.

“We’ll figure this out, sugar.” Whiskey told you as he laced his fingers with yours.

“We will.” Ginger confirmed. She sounded confident, and you knew she was nothing if not capable, but you still felt tears roll down your cheeks as the fear crashed over you.

You heard Whiskey tut beside you before he was brushing your tears away, his large palms cupping your cheeks as his thumbs brushed your skin.

“I’ll get to the lab. See if we’ve got anything new.” Ginger excused herself and you could hear her footsteps fade as she left the room.

As the two of you were left alone, you felt the cot shift underneath you as Whiskey sat down. He pulled you into a hug, letting you cry into his shoulder. She rocked you gently back and forth, telling you it was going to be okay. He let you cry until you felt numb, like there were no tears left. He didn’t move away until you lifted your head.

“I’d offer you my handkerchief, but it’s in the lab too.” Whiskey told you, voice light like he was trying to make you smile. He shifted away for a brief second, leaning back as you felt him press a scratchy fabric into your hand, which you quickly identified as a tissue. You used it to blot at your cheeks and nose.

You thanked him, your voice hoarse from crying. “Not just for this,” you waved the tissue in the air. “For getting us out of there.”

“It’s part of the gig, sugar.” It sounded like he was grinning when he spoke. You hoped he was. Even more, you hoped you’d see the grin for yourself again soon.

The next several days revolved around tests. Scans of your head and eyes, tests being done on the limited amount of the substance the lab had collected from Whiskey’s handkerchief and the briefcase. You didn’t even realize there were that many different tests they could perform, but everyday they brought you new results. Unfortunately, none of the results so far had led to any answers about why you’d lost your sight. As the lab identified more ingredients of the goo that had sprayed you, they tried different medicines and remedies but nothing had changed. They also told you how the substance had left you with a light rash on the skin of your face and hands where you’d been exposed. You were hardly worried about the rash. They said it was fading naturally. You wished your sight would return naturally too.

Between tests, you were hardly ever along. Whiskey visited you more often than not. Ginger spent a lot of time with you during tests as well as socially for meals. The team of doctors and junior agents working with her to help heal you all came and went. Tequila, Champ and other Statesman agents came by to check in on you when they could.

It was getting easier to identify who was coming as you started to hear differences in their footsteps. Whiskey had a long, slow gait, his boots slapping the floor with a dull thud. Tequila’s steps were quicker, and his boots snapped a little lighter against the floor. Champ’s steps were slower, like Whiskey’s, but there was an irregularity to the pattern. His left hip making him have the slightest limp that you had never noticed by sight alone. Ginger was easiest, being one of the few women who came to see you. Her steps clacked as her heels hit the floor.

You were also surprised to start noticing the different scents everyone held. Tequila, bless that boy, smelt obnoxiously like axe spray deodorant, reminding you of a high school boy’s gym class. Champ smelt of vanilla, cloves and the cigar smoke that clung to his clothes. Ginger smelt like clean linens, a hint of tropics in her detergent but seemed to be content staying largely scent-free, no perfumes that you could pick up on.

Whiskey’s smell was more complex, but maybe that was because he was the one who would sit next to you on the bed, giving you a chance to really breathe it in. Hints of spiced citrus hung to his clothes, along with the smell of leather and smoke - not smoke like Champ, but the kind from a freshly fired gun. When he got close enough, his musk had you remembering being cradled in his arms as he carried you away from the cabin, his hat atop your head.

You were thankful for the ways you were picking up to identify people. Your years as an agent had you trained to survey your surroundings, to avoid being caught off guard. It was unsettling to have your primary sense for that taken away from you. Most people were learning to announce themselves as they approached your room, giving you a heads up someone was nearing. Not everyone did. Tequila was particularly bad at it, and you suspected he enjoyed watching you jump.

You expressed your worries to Champ when he came to visit, on the fourth day of no progress. He chuckled and patted your back in a fatherly way.

“Let’s give them some time to figure this out, Amaretto. We don’t need to start plannin’ a retirement party just yet.”

You supposed he was trying to help you worry less, but it didn’t help. Would you have to retire if your vision wasn’t restored? You could hardly imagine a position at Statesman that you could easily navigate without sight. If you ever learned braille, and how to type, maybe some kind of administration or archival job, but who knew how long it would take you to master those skills. It was hard enough to accept what this meant for your career, let alone the rest of your life.

The agents that came to visit tried to help take your mind off of it, but it was hard when there was no true reprieve.

“Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged.

“You know, I’m startin’ to remember why I wasn’t so fond of this book in school.” Whiskey interrupted his recitation. “How Mr. Twain managed to turn the absolute boredom of paintin’ a fence into the written word with such lucidity is an artform in itself.”

“Oh stop,” you laughed, reaching beside you to swat at him. It was an easy thing to aim for, feeling the warmth of him on the bed next to you, his arm pressed to yours.

“I’m just sayin’ that I’ve had better adventures before breakfast than these so called adventures of Tom Sawyer.” He complained.

“Tom Sawyer wasn’t a senior agent of a secret spy organization.”

“And good thing too. He’d have burnt this place to the ground by now with his behaviour.” He harrumphed, making you laugh.

“Just keep reading.”

He sighed, a long, annoyed sigh.

“Please.” You sang, smiling up at him as you leaned into his arm. These were the moments you could really smell the spice and leather on him.

He was silent for a beat. Although the two of you were joking, you almost worried he wouldn’t keep reading. It was much harder to read people’s moods without seeing their facial expressions. No smile or eye roll to go by had you guessing by voice tone alone. Silences had you absolutely puzzled.

“Can’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an’ git dis water an’ not stop foolin’ roun’ wid anybody. She say she spec’ Mars Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an’ so she tole me go ’long an’ ’tend to my own business—she ’lowed she’d ’tend to de whitewashin’.”

“Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That’s the way she always talks. Gimme the bucket—I won’t be gone only a a minute. She won’t ever know.”

“Oh, I dasn’t, Mars Tom. Ole missis she’d take an’ tar de head-

“I’d be able to follow a lot easier if you did different voices for the different characters.” You interrupted.

“Don’t push your luck.” He grumbled, but you were pretty sure you could hear that grin in his voice again as he kept reading.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Keep your eyes closed.” You were instructed by Tonic, a junior agent who worked under Ginger. You felt the dampened towel being lifted from your eyes. You’d just spent 40 minutes laying back, letting the medicinal solution on the towel soak in. You had done the same thing the day before, and would likely be doing it again tomorrow.

“Just dimming the lights. Hold on.” Tonic explained as you heard his shuffling footsteps through the room. It was a good thing he had a knack for medicine because he’d be an awful field agent with the way he never picked up his feet.

“Okay, open.”

You did as instructed, blinking as your eyes adjusted to being open again. Just like the day before, you only saw the familiar inky blackness.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“That’s okay.” You could hear the forced optimism in his voice. “Ginger said it could take up to five treatments for this to work. We’ll do it again tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You gave the poor kid the best smile you could muster, but you were definitely losing hope. It had been nearly a week now with no progress. It was getting time to face facts.

“Don’t worry, Agent Amaretto. We’ll figure it out.” The boy told you, a soft pat on your shoulder accompanying his attempt at comfort.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen Tonic around Statesman. You might have walked by in passing, but you were never introduced. It was weird to be spending this much time with someone and having no idea what they looked like. You were almost tempted to ask, but kept it to yourself. You'd have to get used to not knowing what new people looked like.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

You shuffled out of the bathroom with your hand on the doorframe to help guide you. You had showered - your first true shower on your own, not just a quick wash-up in the sink or a sponge bath - and it made you feel slightly more human again. The robe was soft and plush against your skin, wearing only a tank top and underwear under it. The towel you had half-heartedly wrapped your hair in was falling out of the twist - you hadn’t quite mastered that skill without seeing yet.

You opened your mouth to dismiss the junior agent who had been tasked with waiting for you - sitting outside the washroom in case you needed to call for help - but you were interrupted.

“I sent her on her way, sugar.” You immediately recognized Whiskey’s twang. He was the best so far at announcing his presence, and you truly appreciated it. You still jumped slightly, not expecting him to be here. “Sorry.” He chuckled.

“I’ll get used to it eventually.” You waved off his apology, not actually knowing if you would ever get used to it.

“C’mon, none of that.” Whiskey tutted. Your uncertainty must have shown on your face. “Want a hand?”

“Yes, please.’ You confirmed, holding your arm out towards his voice. You heard him approach, footsteps and fabric, before he looped his arm around yours.

“Where to?” They had set up a table and chairs for you in the room, trying to make you feel more at home than in a hospital room. All it did was reaffirm that you weren’t any closer to finding a solution and that your stay was going to last even longer.

“The bed, please.”

He led you to the bed easily, not taking his arm away until you were sitting comfortably. You felt the towel fall even further off your head as you sat.

“Can you pass me the brush?” You asked him, holding your hand out.

You waited, hearing Whiskey move around, but instead you felt him pull your hair free from the towel. With your wet hair falling down your back, you felt him run the brush through it.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled.

“You just relax, sugar.” He ordered. He started at the ends of your hair, brushing the tangles out before moving closer to your scalp.

“I can brush my own hair.” You argued even though you were grinning.

“Just let me take care of you, Rhett.” He huffed, smacking you on the shoulder with the flat side of the brush.

“Fine, Whisk.” You huffed playfully in response, leaving him to brush your hair.

He was surprisingly gentle, only once did your hair pull painfully at your scalp to which he mumbled a quick apology. You hadn’t had someone brush your hair for you in a long time. Outside of a hairdresser, it probably hadn’t happened since you were a child. As much as you were trying to maintain your independence with your new loss of sight, it was very relaxing.

You hadn’t expected it when you felt him part your hair into sections and start weaving them together.

“Are you… braiding my hair?” You asked curiously.

“Yes, ma’am.” He hummed, clearly concentrated on his task.

“Okay, the brushing I could let go, but are you going to tell me how you know how to braid?” You laughed.

“I’ve made my own whips before, sugar.” He explained, his drawl even more pronounced as he spoke slowly, keeping his focus on the hair. “Part of that is just fancy bradin’.”

“You make your own whips?” That surprised you.

Whiskey chuckled, his fingers brushing lower and lower on your back as the braid progressed. “Not the ones I use on missions, but I have some at home I made. I’m not too up on the electricity part, but a good ol’ fashioned bullwhip? I can throw one of those together in a few days if I have the time.”

“So which came first? Using the whip or making them?”

“Been usin’ them since I was a boy, on the family farm. Started makin’ em ‘round the same time, maybe a few years between. Although those first ones were nothin’ to celebrate. I got better at it. Decent hobby to have, if you’ve got scraps of leather hanging around.”

You felt him end the braid as he spoke, tying an elastic around the end. You lifted your hand to your hair so you could feel the braid. It was surprisingly sturdy and didn’t feel like there were any messes of bumps.

“Thank you.” You turned, smiling in his direction.

He was silent as he pushed the braid over one shoulder, his fingertips grazing your neck as he did. The sensation left goosebumps on your still-damp skin.

“I also used to braid my wife’s hair.” He admitted quietly. “Especially when she wasn’t feelin’ well. Braided it up to keep it out of her face.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You knew a bit about Whiskey’s past, about his high school sweetheart and that she’d died, but it was hardly ever discussed between the two of you. Before you came up with something to say, he continued.

“When we found out she was expectin’,” he grunted as you felt the mattress dip. You scooted over to make room for him to sit. “I was braidin’ her hair all the time. For one, the mornin’ sickness that first trimester, hoo-” he chuckled softly, lost in the memory. “It really kicked her ass. Spent most her time huggin’ a bucket or praying to the porcelain gods. But before we found out she was carryin’ a boy, she wanted me to practice. ‘Case we had a little girl.”

You bit your lip, reaching in Whiskey’s direction. You wanted nothing more than to take his hand in yours, but you fumbled in the air clumsily. He brought his hand up to yours, letting you grip it tightly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“Thank you, sugar.” He answered back. “Was another life. Wasn’t meant for me, I guess.”

You gave his hand another squeeze, really wishing you knew what to say. Something to make the pains of his past a little… less. His hand stayed in yours, but you heard something rustling off to the side.

“What are we readin’ tonight? We’ve still got some of Tom Sawyer’s adventures to go through, or we can start Pride and Prejudice.”

You leaned back, getting comfortable in the bed. “Tom Sawyer. Besides, you can’t tell me you actually want to read Pride and Prejudice.” You grinned, letting him change the subject.

“I could be persuaded, but if the lady requests Tom Sawyer…” He trailed off, likely picking up the book based on what you heard. He got settled in beside you and you heard the pages turning as he found where the two of you had left off. As he read, his hand stayed firmly in yours.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Lean back.” Ginger instructed. You did so, keeping a firm grip on the arms of the chair to keep your equilibrium. They had uncovered a new piece of whatever had attacked you, leading them to coming up with another possible cure. Ginger had explained this to you as she prepared you for the eyedrops. You were glad they were eyedrops this time because last time it had been a gel. Even without your sight, the feeling of gel in your eyes was incredibly unpleasant. That being said, you’d do it everyday for the rest of your life if it meant you could see again.

“Ready?” She asked, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Mhmm.” You held your eyes open as much as you could, waiting for the liquid to hit them. If you thought eyedrops were bad before, they were worse now that you couldn’t see them coming.

The first drop hit your eye, making you jump despite being ready for it. You felt one more drop in the left eye before she moved to your right.

The cooling effect was almost immediate, the strange tingling making your eyes water. You fought against blinking until Ginger gave you the go ahead. You kept your head tilted until a tissue was pressed into your hand.

You leaned back upwards, wiping the residual drops from your cheeks. There were tears too, your eyes watering from the sensation.

“How does it feel?” Ginger asked as you heard her click a pen.

“Tingly.” You told her. “It feels like minty, maybe? Like chewing mint gum with my eyes. Or menthol.” You tried to explain. You heard her scribble something down as she hummed in response.

“Let me know if anything changes. It could take up to an hour to work.” She explained.

You blinked continuously, having no choice as the reflex tried to deal with the feeling in your eyes. It wasn’t unpleasant or painful, just very foreign.

Ginger ate lunch with you while you waited for something to happen, but nothing did. You swallowed down your thoughts of ‘I told you so,’ instead agreeing with her that maybe the next thing would work.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“We gotta start making plans, Champ.” You told him plainly, hands clasped in your lap. “I can’t stay here forever.”

“‘Course not!” The man agreed with gusto. “Forever is out of the question.”

You sighed, knowing he was deflecting. “Nothing is working yet.”

“Somethin’ will.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“What if it does?”

“Agent Champagne-”

“You sound like my wife.” He snarked.

“Your wife calls you Agent Champagne?” You asked with a smirk. You couldn’t resist taking that bait.

“A gentleman wouldn’t kiss and tell.” He joked, but it did little to lighten your mood. “But what I mean is the tone of voice. That’s the voice she uses when she thinks I’m being as dumb as a bag o’ hammers.”

You wouldn’t have quite put it that way, but you did think Champ was avoiding dealing with the situation at hand.

“So I’m gonna tell you what I tell her when she starts usin’ that particular tone of voice.” He took a pause and you waited for him to continue. “Trust me.”

You sighed, dropping your head. “I trust you, Champ.”

“Then why are we havin’ this conversation? Is it Ginger and her team? Do you not trust Ginger?”

“Of course I do-”

“You don’t trust Statesman or Statesman technology or medicine?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“Then you stop worrying ‘bout what we’re gonna do with you, and focus on gettin’ better.” He instructed, his tone firm. His accent grew thicker as he went on. “I won’t hear anymore about plannin’ nothin’ ‘cause you’re going to get back out there, Agent Amaretto. This piss poor attitude ain’t helpin’ nothin’! If we thought this was a lost cause, we’d tell you. You’d get a gold watch and we’d set you up with a good pension and probably a little desk job at some library somewhere to keep you busy, but that’s not in the cards for you.”

You couldn’t help but tear up as Champ went on. You weren’t even totally sure why. You felt so alone, like no one was hearing your concerns - but at the same time, it sounded like Champ had been thinking about possibilities. A librarian? You didn’t want to end up a librarian. You almost wanted to go back to not talking about the future.

“You, missy, are a Statesman Senior Agent. Now, I’ve already got Tequila climbing up the walls and causin’ trouble, I can’t be worryin’ about herding two cats. Suck up that booboo lip and act like the Agent you are. Understood?”

“Yessir.” You mumbled.

“I didn’t hear you, Agent Amaretto.”

“Yessir.” You repeated, louder this time.

“Good.” You could hear the finality in his voice before the ice in his drink clinked together as he took a sip. “‘Cause if that didn’t work… well, the next tactic I use on the Missus is a little inappropriate to try with you, Agent. No offense.”

Now that did get a laugh out of you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The podcast played from the speaker beside you, but you were only half listening to it. You were thinking of taking a nap, more out of boredom and lack of anything better to do than tiredness, when you heard familiar heavy footsteps approaching your room. You couldn’t help that it lifted your spirits to know Whiskey was on his way.

“‘Rhett.” He greeted, that signature tone in his voice letting you know he was grinning.

“Whisk.” You responded with a sigh. “You know, if anyone else called me that, I might have to kill them.”

“Not interrupting, am I?” He ignored your warning, stepping into your room.

“No. Wasn’t really listening to this anyway.” You told him. You turned your head in the direction of the speaker and asked it to stop. The room fell into silence as you sat up on the cot.

“That better not have been a book on tape.” He warned.

“Now why would I listen to one of those when I have a real life book on tape at my beck and call.” You smirked.

“Walkin’ talkin’ book on tape, huh? If that’s all I am to you, I think I might just take this present back home with me then.”

“Wait!” You stopped him, hearing his feet retreating back towards the door. “You didn’t say you had a present.”

“Thought that might change your tune.” He chuckled.

You scooted to the side of the cot, patting the mattress beside you. It only took him a second to sit next to you, that familiar spiced citrus and leather scent taking over your senses.

“Hands out.” He instructed. You held your hands in front of you, waiting impatiently for them to be filled. He placed the gift in your hands, but you had no idea what it was yet.

It was circular, but it seemed to vary in width - no, it wasn’t circular, it was just looped. You ran your hand over it, feeling the smooth pattern adorning it.

“What is it?” You asked, finding the end of it - a strong, heavy piece, the texture similar to the rest of it, although the pattern was different. The very end came to a bulbous tip.

“That’s a bonafide, one of a kind, handmade by yours truly, bullwhip.” He explained, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around the handle to hold it properly.

“For real?” You smiled, feeling what you now knew to be leather under your fingers.

“For real.” He chuckled.

You tested the weight of the handle, feeling the drag as the rest of the whip pulled against the sheets. Your fingers ran over the design, following the lines of the handle carefully woven and etched throughout. You regripped the handle and ran your other hand over the tail of the whip, pulling your hands apart to get a feel for how long it was.

“What does it look like?” You asked, leaning into him.

“It’s brown. Medium brown, the colour of gingerbread, maybe. Right along here,” he took your hand holding the handle and guided you in tracing the designs. “It’s stained red, just to make it pop. Not blood red, just tinged red with the stain. Gives it some detail, you know?”

“What else?” You asked, feeling breathless as he helped you to see the details with your hands.

“Well you can probably guess it’s made of leather.” You nodded. “But it’s actually made of kangaroo leather.

“Kangaroo?” You asked in shock. “Where’d a farm boy get kangaroo leather?”

You felt Whiskey’s laugh against your side. “I made this one a year or so ago. Just so turns out that kangaroo hide is one of the strongest in the world and well, when you have a hobby that requires leather, you start gettin’ creative with what kind of leather you’re usin’. Gotta keep it excitin’.”

“You don’t get enough excitement at your day job?” You teased.

“Nah, I’ve got this great partner who always has my back.” His voice made you shiver, despite the fact that his comment had your face heating up. He was leaning heavily against you now, his breath fanning over your cheek.

You swallowed the lump that had appeared in your throat, finding your voice to ask him to tell you more.

“About my partner? She’s a great gal. I’m sure I’d be dead twice over if she wasn’t there to pull my ass outta trouble. She’s a great shot, and there ain’t nothin’ sexier than a woman who can handle a pistol.”

His hand was on your opposite cheek, turning you to face him. The gentle touch made your breath stutter in your throat. 

“She’s got this amazing smile that can make a mark fall in love from 40 paces, and it can light up a room from even farther.” He continued, the breath from his voice dancing across your face. His breath smelt like the spiced Whiskey he was named for, and a slight hint of cherries.

“She deserves better than me for her partner, that’s for damn sure. A broken man with a messy past who’s been too scared to tell her how special she is. I thought it was best to keep it professional, but I don’t know if I can anymore.” His nose brushed against yours. You gasped softly at how close he was.

“She’s always in danger, we both are, but once she was in danger I couldn’t help her out of… that made me realize how important she is. If she’ll let me though,” he whispered. You could feel his lips brush against yours as he spoke, his mustache tickling your upper lip.. “I’d like to spend all my time makin’ that up to her.”

“Jack-” Your whisper was cut off as he pressed his lips to yours gently. It was so gentle, almost hesitant. The man was such a loud, boisterous personality and this kiss was so contrary to that. 

You dropped the whip, bringing your hand up to rest on his hand on your cheek. You followed his arm past his shoulder and up his neck to tangle in his hair. You felt his breath hitch from the light tug on the strands.

“I’m gonna stick by her side,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “No matter what happens. I’m gonna do everything I can to help you.”

You pulled him into another kiss, tilting your head to slot your lips together. He hummed softly into the kiss, brushing your cheek lightly with his thumb. His other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, like he was scared you would disappear. You nipped his bottom lip, trying to reassure him you weren’t going anywhere.

He hissed softly at the sensation and your tongue darted out to soothe the skin. His own tongue met yours, his moan at the contact matching your sigh.

He pulled back and you chased his lips. You were stopped as his nose brushed against yours, his shaky breath flitting across your face.

“Say it again.” He requested, so quietly you almost didn’t even hear.

“Say what?”  You hummed, distracted by his nuzzling and the strong urge to have his lips against yours again.

“My name, sugar.” He was close enough that you could feel his cheek flex with a lopsided grin. “I ain’t ever heard you call me by name before now.”

You smiled in return, biting your lip. It was true. You’d called him Whiskey most of the time. Agent Whiksey when you were being formal. Whisk when he annoyed you. Numerous different names while undercover…

“Kiss me, Jack.”

He growled, low and deep in his chest, before he obliged. Now this was the kiss you expected from Whi- from Jack Daniels. His tongue, pressing past the seam of your lips. It felt like he was marking his territory, all you could do was let him. He swallowed your moans as you matched his hunger. He kissed you with passion, both experienced and unrefined. Unbridled. He kissed you breathless, until you had no choice but to part.

You pulled back, panting softly as you leaned your forehead against his. You wished you could see him. See if he was just as affected by the kiss as you were.

You slid your hand from his hair to his cheek. His skin was warm, you could almost imagine it tinged pink, flushed from being so breathless. You continued exploring, finding his mustache next. The coarse hair felt askew, likely mussed from kissing and not the neat, groomed thing you were used to. You felt the uptick of his lips in that signature grin, and you couldn’t help but feel those too. They were warm and moist. You wondered if they were swollen, like yours felt.

Jack held your hand still, kissing each finger tip one at a time. The tickle of his mustache made you giggle.

“I mean it, sugar.” You could feel his lips move against your fingertips, his voice vibrating through your hand. “I’m here with you. Whether they figure this out or not. We’ll get through it.”

It was the first time someone other than yourself acknowledged that your sight may never return. It didn’t bring about the hollow defeat you’d been feeling anytime you thought of being blind the rest of your life. It finally felt like you had someone in your corner. Of course it would be Jack. He’d had your back for years, working together in the field. You should have known it would be him, in the end.

“Thank you.” You dropped your hand from his face to wrap both arms around him, hugging him as you rested your head against his chest.

You felt him press a kiss against your forehead before he pulled you to lay down. He held you, cradled into his side as you burrowed your face into his neck. You heard something fall, probably the whip that had been forgotten on the sheets.

“Oops.” You winced, not having meant to be so careless with his gift. You moved to sit up, wanting to pick it up, but he held you firm.

“Leave it there,” he instructed. You relished the way his deep voice vibrated against you. “It ain’t gonna fall any further.”

“I don’t want something to happen to it.”

“If it does, I'll make you a hundred more.” He promised.

“Fine.” You ceded, snuggling back into him with a deep inhale. Leather and spice.

The arm that was draped over your waist left your side. You felt his muscles move under his shirt as he stretched out. It only took a minute before the released, relaxing again. You heard the fluttering of paper before he started to read.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. 

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The pressure from the device around your head was unpleasant, but not unbearable. The way it pressed down on your eyes made you want to squirm. Instead, you squeezed frantically at the stress ball Ginger had offered you before you’d been strapped in. You knew Whiskey was standing with her as she ran the test, but you wished he could be here. You’d take his hand in yours over the foam smiley face any day.

“Almost done, Amaretto.” Ginger’s voice echoed through the speaker, barely audible over the hum of the awful machine.

“You’ve got this, sugar.”

“Whiskey, don’t tou-”

“-tell me not to-”

“-my lab, my buttons-”

“-OW!”

The bickering coming through the speakers was almost enough to make you laugh. The clicking of the microphone engaging and disengaging had you picturing the two fighting over whatever button turned the feed on. The two had spent hours bickering the past two weeks, Jack becoming increasingly more involved in your treatment as the two of you shifted from partners to...  well, there was no set term put on it yet, but you were very fond of kissing him. You couldn’t quite imagine the cowboy in the other room being called a boyfriend. It felt very middle school.

It was another few minutes of the machine humming, pressing awkwardly against you, until Ginger finally announced you were done. You heard the door between you and them open, two sets of footsteps approaching. One set of hands started to release the device from your head, while the other took the stress ball away. It was replaced with a large, warm hand that lifted yours until a kiss was pressed to your knuckles. The mustache prickled against your skin.

“Okay, you can sit up. Go slow, though.” Ginger instructed once you were free. You did, feeling your head swim.

“How’re you feeling?” Jack asked.

“Light headed.” You answered honestly, waiting for the feeling to pass. You leaned into Jack, letting him support you through the dizziness.

“Almost done.” He cooed, petting your braided hair. “We’ll get you back to your room soon.”

You heard Ginger moving around the room before she came to a stop in front of you. There was silence for a beat.

“Any change?” She asked.

You blinked a few times, but there was nothing. “No.”

You sighed, letting your shoulders slump with defeat, but Jack stayed strong next to you.

“That’s okay.” He hummed, not letting on any disappointment he might be feeling. He never tried to dictate how you should feel about your condition, but he stayed strong for you throughout. It was still so hard to deal with that you may never see again, but he made it a little easier. “Let’s get you back to your room. I for one am dyin’ to know what happens to Elizabeth next.”

You scoffed as he helped you to stand. “Sure you are.” His hands held you steady until you found your footing, his arm wrapping around you to guide you out of the lab.

“I am.” He argued. “I’m invested in it now.”

“Oh, well I guess I didn’t need to ask Champ to track down some Louis L’Amour books.”

“To hell with Elizabeth.” Jack declared, making you laugh.

You roused slowly. It took you a moment to realize you had fallen asleep while Jack read. The last thing you remember in the story was the caravan was going to be attacked. You wondered how long Jack had read for before realizing you’d fallen asleep. You were pressed tightly to his side, you could feel his warm body next to you. His head was leaning against yours, his deep breaths tickling your ear. He let out the tiniest snores anytime he exhaled. It made you smile.

“Jack, wake up.” You hummed, pressing a kiss to his neck. He hummed in response but didn’t fully wake. You called his name again, nuzzling into him.

Your name left his lips in a soft moan as he told you to go back to sleep.

“You’re going to have an awful kink in your neck if you keep sleeping like that. Come on.” You argued quietly, poking him lightly in his side as you sat up.

“Alright,” he groaned. You felt his body stretch out beside yours before he too sat up. You felt something hit your leg and you instinctively opened your eyes to see what it was.

You saw the book had fallen off Jack’s lap-

You saw.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​ @driedgreentomatoes​

A/N: The books that are mentioned being read by Whiksey are The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and The Walking Drum by Louis L’Amour

[crappy-danganronpa-imagines]

[This is the ask I sad ranted about cause tumblr posted my unfinished asks again, its Kokichi, Shuichi, and Rantaro with an S/O who has abandonment issues]

Grr I'm pissed- I wrote the whole thing and then tumblr glitched and erased it all except for like half the Kokichi one so they might be low quality cause I dont remember the exact words I used

And then when I finished the Kokichi one again tumblr decided to post just that instead of letting me save to drafts

Anyway here goes, also I just included the screenshots of the original for the Kokichi one cause I dont feel like writing all that out a third time

-Mod Makoto (now with new icons!)

Kokichi, Shuichi, and Rantaro with an S/O who has abandonment issues!

Tw for: lots of angst in the Kokichi one

Warmth?

Shuichi Saihara

Shuichi had been spending so much time with his detective work recently

So much that he barely noticed you

Not that he had noticed you much before, you now realized

He would wake you up each morning with a kiss, and before you could really wake up and love him back, he'd already be deep in his latest case

You were worried for both him and your relationship, so much investigating late into the night can't possibly be good for someone, and every day you two seemed farther and farther apart

He didn't seem to notice, and that bothered you more

Were you really less important to Shuichi than a missing dog?

It was a night like all the rest you’d gotten used to, you laying in bed, cold and alone, him over at his desk typing away at his computer

When all of a sudden the power went out

It was pitch black, but you could at least hear him fumbling with things at his desk, probably trying to find a flashlight or something

Then he sighed, and you heard his footsteps, and he... got into bed?? At 9:30??

“Y/N...?”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. With your head against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat.

He had noticed your worry from the start, actually

He’s a detective, after all; how wouldn’t he notice the hints you gave?

He just had never found the time or courage to address it

"I-I know it probably feels like I'm prioritizing my work over you, and... I really am sorry for that. I should... set an alarm or something...." his words dissolved into tired mumbles. You could've sworn you caught an 'I love you' at the very end, before he fell asleep, his head resting on your shoulder.

The lad was sleep deprived from so many nights spent staying up late

But you could tell what he at least tried to put in his words

"Love you too," you whispered back, and nestled farther into his arms, already falling asleep yourself

The next morning, he stayed by your side even after you woke up, peppering your face, neck, and ears with small kisses.

Rantaro Amami

He was always exploring the world, out looking for his sisters

You were more down-to-earth, you preferred to stay close to home

Meaning he frequently left you to wander on his own

He made the most of the time you two got together, though

He would literally never leave your side when he was home, always trying to hold your hand or hug you from behind

And he'd cook you meals, too, mostly traditional dishes from the place he traveled last

Every night you two would cuddle together in bed, and he'd tell you all about his adventures until both of you fall asleep

It still felt so lonely and worrying when he was away, though

Who knew what he could be doing out there? He could get hurt, he could get sick, he could be out cheating on you for all you knew!

One night, while he was home, you told him about your concerns, and he understood completely

So the next day he went to get some groceries, and later...

"Y/N, I'm home. I got a little surprise for you."

You walked to where he was and pecked him on the cheek. "A surprise?"

He dropped the bags of groceries onto the dinner table and pulled something out of one of them. A digital camera.

There wasn't much he could do to help your worries while he was away, so he figured he'd give you something you could keep at home

From then on every time he went exploring he took the camera with him and filled up all the photo slots with pictures of beautiful things or places he found, most of them selfies with the things if he could take those kinds of pictures without disturbing anything

When he got back, before going home, he'd have the photos developed and write little labels and messages on each one by hand

It took a couple trips, but soon you had a steadily growing cluster of pictures on your wall, each with its own thoughtful message written in Rantaro's handwriting, most of them including his face in the photo

And it really did ease your anxiety quite a bit.

[milliedazzledust]

War Rages On: part 2 (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Words: 3234

A/N: Still don’t know where I’m going with this story but I’m really having fun writing this and I hope you’ll like it! Don’t forget to tell me if you want to be tag for the next parts :)

Previously: part 1

Steve had found Bucky deep in the forest of Wakanda. Escorted by the kind T’Challa, he led him to the man they called the White Wolf. He had found his redemption away from mankind. Surrounded by trees and animals, Y/N and him had lived a simple life inside their cottage up until that moment. Before this, Steve had no intention to bring them back. He had planned to come visit the couple but most importantly to let them have their happy ending, to keep them from monsters that had tried so many times to tore them apart. He couldn’t imagine two people more deserving of peace than them. The King of Wakanda had outdone himself to make sure this was achievable.

“Do you remember the last time you saw her ?” Steve asked him.

Bucky sat on a rock near a river, hastily ruffling his hair.

“She left a couple days ago” He recounted. “She had a message from Stark on the burner phone you gave her”

“What did it say ?”

“Need your help asap - Romanoff compromised. An address was attached”

He got worried when he saw Steve dropping his head and rubbing his eyes in frustration. He had known him long enough to guess something was bothering him.

“Buck’, Tony didn’t send anything.” The Soldier confessed.

“What do you mean ?”

The familiar sensation of anxiety started to form in the pit of his stomach despite the lack of information. He knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“I don’t know what happened, but somebody pretending to be him wrote that message”

“That’s impossible” He shook his head, refusing to believe him.

“Buck’ ..”

“She left, Steve. She left to go help him” He vehemently cut him. He stood up and started pacing. His friend could see his whole demeanor slowly shifting. “If she’s not with Stark, then where is she ?!”

“I don’t know” The Captain replied. Admitting it to his friend was almost too painful.

“Have you talk to the others ? Do they know anything ?”

He was looking more and more like a madman. His body had already understood what his mind failed to grasp.

“She send Sam an SOS”

“What ?” He said it in a whisper, instantaneously freezing on the spot.

“Bucky, I’m sorry but she’s missing”

“She can’t be” He felt the panic beginning to creep into his chest.

He turned back to look at his friend.

“That’s not … She said she’d be back” He explained, as if it would make perfect sense that she couldn’t be gone, as if that promise had been enough to keep her safe “.. She … She always comes back to me”

He dropped on the floor, the captain barely had enough time to catch him. His breathing became more rapid, more shallow. He felt it hit him like a hurricane. There was a logical explanation, but the only one he could think of was worst than any nightmare.

“Steve if it’s …” He suddenly sounded alarmed.

“It might not be” The Captain answered. He didn’t know which one of them he was trying to convince the most.

“Who else ?”

His friend stayed silent. His mind couldn’t wrapped around the fact that this could be happening, that they were potentially facing another threat.

“They’re still after me” The Sergeant muttered. “It’d make sense”

“Even if it’s Hydra, we’ll still find her” Steve promised.

“What if it’s too late ?” Bucky dared to think about that possibility, his eyes drifting into space.

“It’s not”

The soldier put a comforting hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder. When he glanced up at him, he saw the reassurance he so desperately needed. He knew this look by heart, he had seen it so many time on Steve’s face growing up. He had that same determination every time he went on to fight someone twice his size, the confidence and fierceness that had built Captain America.

“C’mon, get up.” He ordered with force. “We’re gonna find her”

He silently followed him, his mind running a mile an hour. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so vulnerable. The mere thought of her somewhere with Hydra was enough to reopen his deepest wounds. He knew what they were capable of, he had lived through the endless torture for years and to picture a fraction of it being done on her was too much.

Steve had taken him to a jet. After several hours of flight, they had landed in a location he didn’t recognize. The place looked like headquarters, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by large trees. When they walked out of the plane, Bucky recognized the distinct sent of mint and pine mixed together. He glanced around, trying to find a clue as to where they were, but all he could see was the woods. No other indication.

“What is this place ?” He asked Steve as they walk inside the building.

Before his friend could answer he heard another voice speaking, the sound resonating on the walls.

“Secure location not far from Warsaw, outside of the radars”

Bucky didn’t hide his surprise when he found himself face to face with Tony Stark. The billionaire saw him tense, his body instinctively going into defense mode.

“At ease, soldier” He sighed. “We’re not here to fight”

Still he didn’t ushered a word and looked back and forth between the two men in front of him.  After what had happened between them before he found shelter in Wakanda, he wasn’t sure how to behave around Stark.

“Have you find anything ?” Steve inquired, folding his hands behind his back.

“Sam checked the address you sent me” Stark started to explain. “We were about to take a look at the security footage”

He guided the soldiers to a room that seemed like it had been restored at the last minute. There was a violent contrast between the dust on the floor, the half broken chairs and the high-tech computers Tony had most likely installed. It definitely looked like a hideout. He first noticed Natasha Romanoff leaning on the large table at the center of the room. She was studying a file. Next to her was Sam Wilson, scrolling on a tablet he was holding with intense concentration.

Steve greeted both of them with a simple nod and Bucky noticed the side looks he was being given but chose to not acknowledge them. Stark started to type on his computer and the enormous screen he had placed on one of the wall turned itself on.  

“Here’s what we know so far” Tony told them.

Bucky recognized a screenshot of the message sent to Y/N on the burner phone, the very same one he was carrying in his pocket.

“I was not able to trace the id or the location”

As he spoke, Stark watched the Sergeant from the corner of his eyes taking a sit on a half torn armchair.

“But whomever send this was pretending to be me”

“How were they able to get her number ? Only you and I are supposed to have that information” Steve interrogated.

“I’m getting there, Captain.” Tony answered. “Somebody infiltrated my system and discreetly hijacked it to get into classified data”

The Sergeant suddenly raised his head and with a flick of the fingers, Stark projected details of his firewall system on the screen.

“They left a trail. Sloppy work if you ask me”

“Get to the point, Tony” Natasha reminded him.

The man rolled his eyes before continuing his explanations.

“They searched through every files I have on Barnes. What they were looking for exactly? I don’t know, but I have a vague idea”

“My location” Bucky whispered.

“Bingo. They were after you, and when they realized I was smart enough not to put any compromising informations, they moved to plan B”

“What’s plan B ?” Sam severely asked.

“If you can’t find the Winter Soldier, then let him find you.” Stark directly offered the hypothesis.

“They’re using Y/N as leverage” Steve finally understood.

“Exactly”

Bucky rubbed his eyes in frustration. This was looking more and more like Hydra’s modus operandi.

“Who is they ?” Romanoff questioned.

“I might have an answer to that” Sam replied, waving his tablet. “I found something on the security footage”

A video without sound started playing and instantly Bucky stood up. His eyes traveling from one corner of the screen to the other, he was closely studying every movement. Whomever was doing this had smartly brought the woman in the middle of the city and away from any camera that could incriminate them.

“Y/N is waiting in the corner of the street, then this man approaches her. She takes a step back, probably figured out something was wrong.” The Falcon explained. “All we can see is her reaching for her phone behind her back, which we know now was to send an SOS”

“Any identification on the guy ?” Natasha inquired.

“No. He stayed hidden from the cameras. He knew exactly where they were”

“Why didn’t she attack ?” Tony pondered. “She could have taken him easily”

“Busy street” Bucky answered mechanically. “If you want somebody to comply, lure them in the middle of a crowd. One move and someone else die. Works all the time”

“Of course you’d know about that” The billionaire muttered under his breath.

Steve hadn’t talk yet. His eyes were glued to the screen. Something wasn’t adding up and he didn’t know what. He watched the video playing four times, his hands on his hips, deep in concentration.

“Rewind it” He ordered Sam.

The man didn’t question the request and did as he was told. Shape after shape the Captain analyzed every detail until the information he was missing was right in front of him.

“Stop there”

The video froze and they stared at the frame, trying to figure out what he was seeing.

“What is it, Steve ?” The Russian spy inquired.

“Can you zoom in ?” He asked, ignoring the first question.

Tony took the tablet in his hand and started to play with it.

“What am I looking for ?”

“His neck” He simply said. “He has a tattoo”

His friend raised an eyebrow in surprise, but got to work. Typing on his keyboard, he cut the video’s frame, zoomed in and used a program to polish the picture and create a clear image of the ink on the man’s body.

As soon as Bucky saw it, he felt a cold shiver running down his spine. What he feared the most had only been theoretical until then, there was still a slight hope he was wrong, a one percent chance he was holding onto that he wasn’t living his worst nightmare. And all that came crashing down when he recognized the pattern of a skull he knew by heart.

“No..No, no, no, no” He kept repeating, pacing around the room, panic striking in his veins. “This is not happening, this is not…”

The Captain stopped him in his track, putting his hands on his shoulders.

“Buck’ ..”

“They have her, Steve. They have Y/N” He was terrified, and his friend could clearly hear it in his voice.

The others were following their interaction, not yet understanding what was happening. Steve raised his head, still holding his brother emotionally breaking apart, and looked at them with an alarmed expression that did nothing to ease their worry.

“We had our suspicion on who might have pulled up something like this » He told them. « Frankly, I was hoping we were wrong”

“Who is it ?” Romanoff demanded.

“…Hydra” Bucky murmured, his head low and his human hand shaking.

They all tensed in the room and the silence that followed was frightening.

“Are you sure ?” The Falcon asked.

Steve stared at the projecting image on the wall, pursing his lips.

“Yes, Sam. It’s them” He answered with a heavy voice filled with concern.

Bucky felt the tears on his cheeks before he realized he was crying. His breathing had become unsteady and he was slowly faltering. He quickly excused himself and left the building. He needed the air.

He was trying so hard not to panic but he seemed paralyzed. There was suddenly a menacing aura around him, holding him in a tightening grip. He could feel his temperature rising, a clear sign of his anxiety, his fear. It was a living force creeping over him like a hungry beast, fed by the agonizing possibility he might lose her. He started to take shaky small breath, like Y/N had taught him every time he had a panic attack, but without her to guide him, it was useless. His pulse was beating in his ears, blocking all the other sounds, and he was sweating. There was a lump in his throat, an emotion so large it was aching to be released. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to beg for mercy. Alas, he closed his eyes, trying to focus his senses on one thing only, find her.

And just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the tiny device he had in his pocket vibrate. He took his phone out, but nothing was displayed on the screen. Then he realized it wasn’t the right one. Fishing in his pants, he found was he was looking for and grabbed the burner phone. One message. When he opened it, the color quickly drained from his face.

« She won’t stay alive for long, unless you come home. Not Romania, not Brooklyn, your real home. No Avenger. You know the consequences of disobedience »

Attached to it was a photo. His heart stopped and his metal fist clenched the phone so hard he accidentally broke it when he saw the picture of the woman he loved, arms chained on a ceiling, body dangling in the air and covered in blood. He absently stared at his hands, thinking back to their time in Wakanda, in peace, away from the world. Just the two of them. What a difference a couple of days could make. He knew what he wanted to do. There was not an ounce of hesitation in him, only the desire to make sure she would make it out of there alive.

So engrossed in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear someone creeping in behind him. Natasha silently stood next to him. Was it out of pity or emotional support, he couldn’t tell. She observed him for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows like she was trying to read him, before she turned back to look at the sky.

“You know where she is”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“What makes you say that ?”

“Two fossils from the 1930’s with the same instinct of preservation and the same tendencies to make stupid decisions based on emotions. Not exactly hard to put two and two together. You and Steve have a lot in common”

He pursed his lips.

“Are you gonna tell them ?” He asked, looking back at the abandoned building.

“Still debating.” She admitted. “You’re not really stupid, Barnes. You know you can’t take them all by yourself”

“That wasn’t my intention”

“Then what’s your plan ?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, she could see it in his whole demeanor. It was in the way he stood up straight, in the way he was clenching his jaw, in the way his eyes held so much determination and purpose.

“You don’t intend on coming back, do you ?”

“I can’t let them kill her” He explained.

“A suicide mission is by far the most stupid idea you could come up with”

“It’s the only one I’ve got” He replied, resigned.

He turned to look at her. The calmness he was displaying was enough to know he had made up his mind and honestly, it frightened her.

“I don’t think you know how much she means to me, Natasha. I don’t deserve her love, I really don’t, but somehow she saw something worth fighting for in me. She saw all the cracks, all the flaws and all the mistakes I’ve made and she didn’t run. She stood by my side and fought for me. She’s my sanity. She’s all the good that’s left in me. She’s the name I whisper when I’m scared my memories are fading. I can’t take the risk to lose her because if that happens, I’ll lose myself and there will be no come back this time”

The lump in his throat prevented him from saying anything more and he gulped, trying to make the feeling of anxiety subside.

“Whatever it takes, and whatever I’ll have to do, I swear she will get out of there alive” He nodded to no one in particular, a silent and simple sign he would not change his mind.

“At what cost ? What are we suppose to tell her when you won’t be here anymore ?”

“That I fought for her the same way she did for me”

His response shut her up. His voice held so much serenity and resolve she knew it would be useless to argue. She understood where he was coming from, just like she understood the sacrifice he was ready to make.

“There’s a version of this where we win, Barnes. Keep that in mind. It doesn’t have to end in pain or worse. Fight with everything you’ve got and don’t stop until both of you are safe”

He sadly smiled.

“You’ve definitely spent too much time with Steve”

She rolled her eyes before turning to stand in front of him. She hesitated a moment, words on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m sorry this is happening” She gloomily confessed. “But you know why they want you, right ?”

“The Winter Soldier” He replied, closing his eyes. “They want him back”

“Just so we’re clear here, Bucky, and just in case, you have to be aware that the moment you’ll get there, they will torture you to get him back. Your mind is already damaged, you won’t hold long”

“I just need to hold long enough to get her out of there” He vehemently assured her, gritting his teeth.

“Your plan is to walk out with her” She reminded him, insisting on the words.

He glanced down at her and judging by the look in his eyes, she knew what he was about to ask her before he even spoke.

“If it comes to the worse, if I become … him again …” He started.

“I know” She cut him. He didn’t need to say the word, she knew thinking about it was already more than enough pain for him.

She stood there, watched him get into the jet him and Steve had taken to get there, and did nothing. It was useless to try to convince him to stay, he was too stubborn to listen. And she knew this was his best shot at getting back the woman he loved alive. She was aware Hydra would not spare the lovers and she prayed they were ready for the fight that was ahead of them. The Avengers would find them eventually, hopefully before it was too late. She turned around when she saw the jet flying in the air and walked silently back inside the building. She would keep that conversation and the promise she had made a secret, and hope whatever Bucky had planned, it would be enough to prevent the worse from happening.

Tag list: @briannareneea985​ - @bangtanxberm​  - @kissmyoops - @steve-is-daddy​

[silverarmedassassin]

Clandestine Meetings - One

Actor!Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 2488 | Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, I know I said this would be posted in "about an hour," but I have no self-control and it must be posted NOW.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I was having a bit of block. Thank you for reading and, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think!❤️ If you want to be tagged, please send me a message or enter your url here!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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It’s 10:30 by the time your boss stumbles into the office. Pepper Potts is usually the embodiment of poised and put together - sleek strawberry blonde hair either falling over her shoulders in beautiful waves or tied in a high ponytail; black pencil skirts and white blouses tucked neatly inside. But not today.

While the ponytail still sits high on her head, dark circles taint her usually smooth, pristine complexion. She’s fisting a to-go mug in one hand and her office mug in the other, already steaming with a fresh round of caffeine.

You hated days like these; mornings after Tony keeps her out late - either business or pleasure, you never know as you prefer not to pry into your bosses’ personal lives - were always interesting, to say the least. Pepper was never mean, and you were almost positive there wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. She was just off. And if she was off, it means you were off, resulting in your job being about one hundred times harder as you often had to play the roles of both assistant and editor.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts,” you finally greet as she sits down at her desk. She’s rummaging through her bag, growing more irritable as the seconds pass. She sighs before stopping to look up at you.

“Y/N, please. It’s been six months. Just call me Pepper.” You internally scoff at the insistence of being anything less than professional towards one of the smartest women you’ve ever encountered in your life, and she turns back to her treasure hunt. “Don’t tell me I left my laptop at home,” she whines to herself as she slumps down into her large executive chair.

You clear your throat as you shuffle forward, computer in hand. “You had me take down to IT to get your files backed up, remember?” you smile as you deposit the device on the cherry-oak desk.

Pepper returns the smile and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t understand how I functioned before you.” She slides the laptop across the desk and opens it. While she waits for the software to boot up, she starts her typical morning rapid-fire session. “Did I miss any calls before I came in?”

“No, it’s been pretty q-word this morning.” You vowed never to say “quiet” while in the office. It somehow always jinxed your days, resulting in everyone and their mother calling within twenty minutes.

“E-mails?”

“The chef you’ve been in contact with sent over his schedule for the next few months. It’s looking like the best time to meet is early next month if you want to get the feature done in time for the winter edition.” Pepper opens her mouth to fire another question, but you’re one step ahead of her. “I’ve already blocked out a date in your calendar and sent the invite to his team.”

A soft smile graces the woman’s face as she scribbles notes in her daybook. “And what does my schedule look like for today?”

You sort through the mental files that contain minute-to-minute information regarding your boss’s workday. “You’re pretty booked. You have that photoshop with James Barnes at noon, and after-”

“Shit,” Pepper mummers, cutting you off. Panic quickly settles into her features. “Why does Tony do this? Barnes is impossible to book for anything. I can’t miss this….”

“Uh, no, you can’t,” you practically screech as you fix your boss with a wild look. “This photoshoot has been on your schedule since before I even started. And the time you have set up with him next week doesn’t allow for a full interview, photoshoot, and get material for the short online feature.” You try not to let the panic come out in your voice, but this is precisely the kind of incident you were hired to prevent.

Pepper gently closes her laptop and sets her features in a serious look. “Listen, I think you’re doing a great job here, and you’ve grown so much within the few months you’ve been on the team.” You eye her suspiciously, wondering if this was your ‘you’re fired’ speech. If so, it was definitely coming out of left field. “Why don’t you take my place at the shoot today? If Tony hadn’t promised I’d be in attendance for this investor meeting today, I’d have you go to that instead. But,” the blonde sighs deeply before continuing, “Tony has no regard for anyone’s schedule, and this is an important meeting.”

Your stomach drops from the 44th floor you’re currently on down to ground level. You’d never been on a set before, let alone one with someone as big as James. Plus, you’d only been on a handful of mid-sized interviews. How did she expect you to do this by yourself?

“Pepper, I…”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to try and tell me that you’re not ready and that you can’t possibly clear your schedule for the afternoon. But if I didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, you wouldn’t even be sitting here with ‘assistant editor’ in front of your name. You have the skillset; you just need to show that you can use it. I know you don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

You anxiously bite your lip, feelings of inadequacy and anxiousness filling your senses.

“I don’t even know this James guy…” you say, defeated.

“Well, the car doesn’t arrive for another,” she looks down at her phone, “forty-five minutes. You better get reading.”

“We really need to bring you into the twenty-first century,” Natasha, Bucky’s manager, says as the first notes of My Funny Valentine start dancing through today’s set.

Following the too-bright flash of the camera, Bucky blinks the starbursts out of his eyes and tries to set the redhead with as stern of a look as possible. “Don’t you dare diss Mr. Sinatra. He’s a classic. A legend!” He watches as a stylist runs up and begins fussing with his hair.

Natasha just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling through her phone. As much as she acts annoyed with him - and his insistence of having at least two dozen 40’s songs on every photoshoot playlist - he knew she wouldn’t trade him for the world. They had a long history pre-dating the entertainment industry, and she was damn good at her job. If it wasn’t for Nat, Bucky’s not sure his current agency would have even signed him.

As the stylist finishes up her poking and prodding, the photographer - who Bucky has already forgotten the name of - begins shouting out directions from behind the camera. Pose this way. Turn that way. Make it look like you want to be here. It takes everything in Bucky not to grimace - both at the consistent reconfiguring he has to do to his body and the loud rumble that echoes through his stomach. The shirtless pictures they were shooting today caused him - against his better judgment - to forgo breakfast and, with nothing but too-weak black coffee in his system, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a little agitated.

“Just a few more shots, and then we can break for lunch,” he hears the man behind the camera shout before dragging the camera back up to his face.

Bucky contorts himself into a position that shows off the abs he’s worked incredibly hard to achieve and maintain and masks his face in the perfect moody smolder these magazines love so much. Three more pops of the shutter, some grumbling and direction by the photographer, and one more position change, and he’s finally free.

As he’s looking at the pictures and throwing a robe over his bare torso and boxer-clad bottom, Bucky’s attention is pulled from the camera’s tiny screen to the back of the spacious room by Natasha’s stern, Russian-lilted voice. The accent only came out when she was agitated, so the sound alone is often used as a warning sign to those closest to her to stay away.

“How did you even get up here? Is there no security in place? I swear-”

Bucky turns to find his manager - all five-foot-three inches of her - standing defensively in front of whomever she’s cornered by the elevator.

“As I said, I’m here in place of Ms. Potts.” Bucky perks up at the second voice; is almost positive he recognizes the sweet melody despite having only encountered it once several months before. “Here, look, I have my badge.”

Sure enough, as Bucky scurries over to the duo, he sees a familiar face anxiously looking at his manager. He might be terrible with names, but Bucky Barnes rarely forgets a face.

“Natasha, why do you insist on harassing every person who sets foot within a five-foot radius of me while on the job?” Bucky jokes as he approaches the women.

He watches as your attention shifts from the annoyed redhead to him; a look of shock and maybe a hint of mortification flashes across your face.

“I wasn’t harassing. This is a closed set, and randos from the street can’t just walk on up,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “And it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s...you. But you know what I mean!”

He does. After all, protecting his privacy and work is one of Bucky’s most significant concerns. That doesn't mean he isn’t going to tease Natasha any chance he gets. He playfully scoffs and turns his attention to you. “I see you got the job. I told you everything was going to work out.”

Bucky can’t help but preen at the way you anxiously tuck a non-existent stray hair behind your ear and bite your lip. “You were right. Mr. Stark isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Although,” you playfully roll your eyes, “he is a menace. He promised Pepper’s attendance at a meeting, so now you’re stuck with an inexperienced interviewer rather than the queen of journalism.”

“Bah!” Bucky exclaims. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Plus, you’re not the one half-naked in the situation. If anyone embarrasses themselves, it’ll be me.”

Natasha chortles at the comment, mumbling something the sounds a lot like, “ever the charmer,” before walking away. At the same time, Bucky doesn’t miss the way your gaze slowly skims down his cotton-clade body before snapping back up to his face.

“Come on. We just broke for lunch, and Stark spares no expense when it comes to the spreads.”

It’s well past six-thirty in the evening when you finally make it back to your building. Despite the exhaustion flowing through your veins and the grumble in your stomach reminding you every five minutes that you haven’t eaten since lunchtime, there’s a festive air to your being, a proverbial pep to your step that could only be the result of a successful first interview experience.

Yeah, you were a nervous wreck before and during the interview, but you walked away feeling amazing about yourself - and with three pages worth of phenomenal, touching, and personal quotes from the one and only Bucky Barnes.

You try to ignore the butterflies that erupt low in your belly at the thought of the blue-eyed god of a man. Despite having no other experience interviewing someone with as large of a celebrity as he, you’ve concluded that Bucky is an angel of an interviewee. He was polite, answered all of your questions, and flirted just a little. Or, at least that’s what you would call it if you were anyone but a lowly editorial assistant who still purchased from bargain bins because that’s all you could afford. In all reality, Bucky was a very smooth talker with the confidence to back it up. It explained the incomprehensible hype surrounding the man you had no idea was such a big deal less than twelve hours prior.

The rumble of your stomach pulls you back to reality as you unlock your apartment door. You push the thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind, settle for finishing unpacking the day for when you’re unwinding for bed. Right now, all you want to focus on is fo-

“Uh, hello!” your roommate Wanda screeches as you push open the door. The redhead is standing, arms crossed, in your entry, a look of disdain on her face. “When were you going to tell me, your best friend and roommate, who pays half the rent and utilities, mind you, that Bucky Barnes followed you on Instagram. James Bucky Barnes, Y/N!”

You freeze at the mention of the man who has taken up every inch of your mind since you left the shoot earlier that day. You deposit your keys onto the small table next to the door and try to act as nonchalant as possible. “What are you talking about, Wanda?”

Your roommate starts wagging her phone in front of your face before pulling it back so she can read off her screen. “Well, I follow these gossip blogs - just for fun, of course. I like to stay up-to-date with all the celebrity goings-on.” You fix Wanda with an unamused look as you pass by on the way to the kitchen. “And I was scrolling through, catching up on today’s gossip, and all of a sudden, I see a screenshot of your Instagram account!”

You freeze mid-reach for a saucepan and turn to look at her. “What?”

“Yea, see,” Wanda holds her phone out so you can see the screen. Low and behold, there your account is; questionably composed landscape shots of the city and poorly-lit food pics in all their glory. “It started to circulate this afternoon after someone saw he followed you! Why did he follow you?”

You slowly resume your task of reheating last night’s spaghetti as you answer her. “I...I don’t know? I met him at work this afternoon. He probably just followed me because of Stark.” You shrug despite the thrill that runs through your body.

You halfheartedly listen as Wanda blabs on about the crush she’s apparently had for years despite never having once mentioned it to you, too focused on running through the day’s events to care much about how she’s seen every single one of his films at least a dozen times.

Maybe he had been flirting with you? His manager did mention he flirts with anything with a heartbeat, so it was most likely just part of his personality. Or at least the role he played in public. You weren’t naive enough to think that who Bucky presented himself as to the media, fans, and others not in his inner circle was the real Bucky. After all, he was likely just trying to win you over so you’d write something good about him.

Still, you can’t help the giddy smile that creeps across your face as, when you finally lie down for the night, you open the Instagram app to find Bucky’s name and verified status among the several notifications awaiting you.

@redbarn1995 @juenenfeu

[dearest-kibble]

yan kenma who has you locked up in his apartment- it’s been some time and you’ve given up escaping but you know he live-streams so you kind of start living small clues that you’re there in hope someone will figure it out? but instead of a viewer kenma finds out; and instead of stopping you he just decides to taunt you and play along to the point his viewers make it an inside joke- the emotional rollercoaster that would be? he wouldn’t have to punish you- the crushing despair is enough alone

This is so deliciously fucked up I love it,,, thank you anon, Kenma hits so different. I love him thank you so so so much. i am working on so much,,, thank you for being patient with all my uhhh lateness? this kinda became something a little different than the prompt but hopefully thats good?

Kenma Kozume x Fem reader

tw: Typical yandere-ness, humiliation? Sexism? Mentioned stalking, (If im missing anything please let me know my brain isn’t functioning rn)

You’re sitting on his lap, camera angled so that no one’s view is obstructed by your body, but so that all his views can clearly see you. You’ve been here so long, any hope of leaving, ironically, has left you. But, the thought crept slowly, surely, deeply into your brain and hasn’t left. You turn around on Kenma’s lap, straddling him and you’re sure the live chat is going a little crazy at the thought of Kodzuken having someone in his lap while he streams and he’s probably going to tell you to get off soon, but you’ve got the chat’s attention, and you are going to work with it. You tap Kenma’s cheeks, slight squish on them and you know he hates that it’s on camera all the same, you drum three fingers on his cheek, smiling at him for the camera as your fingertips meet his clammy skin. He doesn’t tell you to stop so across his cheek you swipe your thumb three times as tenderly as possible. As you stand from his lap, you pat his cheeks, three times delicately. You look into his eyes, still as calculating as when you met him, a deceptively warm amber with the tiniest hint of frustration (and somewhere inside, you know it’s probably with you but you can’t care.)

“I’m gonna sit on the couch, ‘kay?” You call softly, hoping you were subtle enough with your plea.

“Oh, okay,” And you think you’re free before he calls a “Wait! Come back for a little.” You’re even halfway to the couch before the words rope you back in. He beckons you to lean down, and whispers into your ear. “I noticed you trying to sign to get out. Morse code isn’t as subtle as you think, you might as well just ask them to get you out,” You chance a quick look towards chat.

“Was that morse code?”

“Holy shit! Yeah, I think that was SOS.”

“You think they actually need to get out or it’s one of those ‘my bfs terrible’ jokes?”

“You see the way they were straddling? Def not a hate my bf sorta thing.”

“See?” He’s still whispering into your ear, game forgotten in lieu of what might be called humiliation.  “They won’t believe you because you want to be here. Regardless of what you say, you would’ve left already if you didn’t.” He smiles at you and affectionately pats your head. Like he’d pet a cat. The idea is still in your mind, though perhaps a little shallower. You glance at the chat once more, someone is still talking about it, but Kenma pushes you away with a “I’ll get you when I’m done, okay?” You end your night on the couch with Kenma. He smiles at you and puts your legs on his lap.

The next livestream is two days after the last one. You have something planned once more, hopefully more effective.

“I’m playing minecraft today, I could set up your computer, and we could play together?” His small smile is back. And though a kind gesture, all you can think about is how easily you could make a point.

“Okay!” The earlier plan is immediately forgotten, and thoughts of what you could do in a game, fills your mind. “Will I have a mic?”

“No, I can’t have you telling them can I?” And it clicks, because of course he’d taunt you. But it’s like your brain grew claws that cannot lose their hold.

“Will I have a camera?” And you know the answer, but Kenma might still surprise you. You’ve already had one shock tonight, maybe you’ll get another.

“No. Sorry. You have chat though.” He pats your head again, ruffling your hair. “I’ve already got you set up, c’mon.” He tugs at your hand, pulling gently.

“Thanks Kenma.” He’s put another computer across from his desk on a much smaller table made for playing cards.

“You’re all set up.”

“Yeah.” He clicks the mouse a few times, waves at the camera to his right. “Can everybody hear me?” He waits a few seconds for chat’s response. “Chat is saying yes, so let’s get right in?” He smiles sheepishly to his camera.

“Hi everyone, I’ m Kodzuken and today we are,” He pauses to look at you with honeyed amber eyes. “Playing Minecraft with my partner.” He nods in your direction. You just open the minecraft tab, the only shortcut that seems to be on the computer.

“It’s a LAN server, click that, okay?” So you click it and say nothing. You start to go through the motions of chopping a tree, making sticks, making a crafting table. Kennma is narrating what he does, and you’re not even sure where he is in game until you're knocked back and turn your mouse to look at him.

“Yeah, I know - she should be relying on me.” He’s responding to something in chat, he’s gotta be. You type a quick,

“What’re they saying?”

“Oh, that my girlfriend shouldn’t be so independent, you rely on me - I'm your boyfriend.” Kenma says it so casually, so acerbically that you immediately take off sprinting from the forest in game.  

“She has these bouts - you saw them last stream - where she likes to try and ‘get away’.” Kenma laughs softly; little glockenspiel notes falling from his mouth. “It’s a really cute joke honestly! Anyway, I’ll put my minecraft bed next to hers later, right now...” You stop paying attention and start planning how you’d try to get your point across more clearly. You could make signs, say “Get me out!” Like Kenma suggested.

“Hey! He looks over the screen at you, piercing eyes staring right through you. “Don’t go off on your own, we’re staying together alright?”

“No.” He’ll have to deal with chatting, possibly hearing you by himself. And you continue through the coded forest. It goes pretty smoothly, though you’re sure Kenma is trying to find you, you’ve already created a mine for yourself, and made a little sign with instructions that reads: “Get me out!”

“Her voice is quite cute, isn’t it? I’ll get to hear it for the rest of my life.” He continues humming out yes’s and no’s to his audience that sit captivated in a land of blocks and pixels.

“Hey, I’m going to use the restroom, is it alright if my girlfriend takes over for me?” He stands, and waves you over into his chair that’s been made for gaming and padded with red accents. He watches you with his cat-like eyes as you sit down and pats your head. “I’ll be right back Kitty, behave.” And you hear his soft footsteps get farther away and the creak of the door twice before you finally look at chat.

Woa, Kudzu got lucky huh?

“Please,” You don’t sound nearly as someone might think you would. You’ve been here too long. “Get me out of here?”

Sure sweetheart, just come over to my place first.

“Just - get me away from him please!”

Girls are so whiny huh?

Hey man, its funny at least amiright?

“It’s not a joke -”

She’s really committed to this bit huh

Damn iim staartin to feel bad for ken

Me to :(

“I’ve been here for year and I don’t want to-”

Wow. what an ungrateful bitch.

Ikr? She’s got a bf and everything and she wants to get out?

“No- it’s not like that - he stalked me for months I-” And the familiar desperation you thought hoped beyond all hope that you had lost bleeds back into your voice all repression surfaces like the tide in your eyes.

Oh fuxxx we made her cry.

relax bet she’s just on her period or smth

“I am not!” A bubble of snot pops from your nose and mucus drips uncomfortably to your lips. “I just-”

What could you want that you don’t have.

“My house! My job! My friends!” And your voice breaks

She wants to go back to a job?

Crazy lady huh.

She wants friends when all she really needs is a man? smh.

“Kitten, what-”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” It’s an outburst that you’ll regret later, for one reason or another. But for now it’s a small comfort to speak your mind. With your voice wavering and congested, you choke out a “Let me go home.” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow but his eyes are still the calculating, cold amber they always are.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.” Instead of the quick pats he’s so fond of, he strokes your hair and massages the nape of your neck like he’s picking up a kitten who's gotten into a fight. “I’m going to cut the stream, okay?”

Who’d want to leave Ken, he’s cutting the stream short to help his gf.

…….yeah

I feel bad.

“You should. Please don’t make her cry.” A few clicks later and the stream cuts. “Do you want me to upload that one?” To get your message out? You’d do anything.

“Yes please…” Someone will have to see it. How miserable you are.

“Then it’ll go up, okay?” He pats your back twice, and he stands again to sit at the computer. Out of the blue he speaks again. “They’re right.” No no no no no. “I’m lucky, i’m so glad you're here with me and that you won’t leave.”

“I will get out!” The proof of your white hot anger is breaking the dam built in your throat.

“Where will you go? Your friends don’t know where you’ve gone, they won’t be happy with you coming back unannounced.”

“My parents-”

“You can rely on me, you don’t need anyone else.”

“But I-”

“Shhh kitty, you’re overreacting let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a stressful day.” And so he walks you back to the room you share that's covered in pictures, and he tucks you under the covers and dries your tears with a blanket. He whispers words to you, faint little nothings about games he’s going to play that you’ll enjoy watching and little bits of trivia about what “Kuroo” is up to. Eventually you fall asleep, with his hand in your hair and a chair pulled up close so he can stare. You both know it but no one will admit, some part of him will always enjoy how you lose hope so quickly.

--

once again! This should not’ve taken so long,,,, and it kinda deviates from request but! there we are! also,,,, you can’t tell me that like,,,,,,, kenma hasn’t been at least exposed to incels and or like,,,, really sexist guys he streams on twitch or youtube or something so- also thank you anon,,, i really like this one

[supercorpkid]

Lena Luthor is your lab partner.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2215.

“Welcome Miss Luthor-Danvers.” Aly, the receptionist of L Corp, gives you a warm welcome.

“Hey, Aly. Can you call upstairs and let my mom know that I’m here?” You smile and she immediately does what you asked.

“She’s going to meet you here.” Aly says and you nod. You play on your phone while you wait. Lena asked you to go to L Corp after school. You don’t know exactly what she wants, but you rescheduled your training session with Nia and went there hoping she would say something about your anti-kryptonite force field prototype. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for you to see Lena coming your way.

Every time you see your mom at work you get so impressed. She’s so well-dressed and put together. And she looks like a boss bitch with this black dress. She smiles at you and hugs you as soon as she reaches you.

“So glad you came, baby. I have a surprise for you.” Lena says and starts walking, shooting you a look for you to follow her.

“A surprise for me? It isn’t my birthday yet.” You say catching up to her.

“Not that kind of surprise.” You go into the elevator with her and she presses a button to go underground.

“I’ll be very surprised if you say that the prototype worked.” You turn to her expectantly. She promised she would test it for you, but she hasn’t given you any clue if it works yet.

“It will work, I’m sure. With a brain like yours, you can make anything.” What she really meant to say was that it didn’t work. You’re finally understanding the things your moms say between the lines.

Lena opens one door to a lab and you walk in. Everything is so new it smells like it. It’s full of equipment and there is a lot of technology you only dreamt about. It’s amazing, the best thing your eyes have ever seen.

“So?” Lena smiles at you and you look at her. “What d’you think?”

“It’s great!” You look around and everything is so perfectly placed, you can’t find anywhere to put your backpack. You also don’t want to touch anything before her. “Where can I put my bag?”

“Anywhere you’d like. It’s yours.” She says with a hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“The lab, babygirl. It’s yours.” She repeats and you stand there with no reaction. Wait, huh? “Oh, you’re going to need this.” She gives you an access card. “And this.” And then she gives you a L Corp id, and there’s your picture and your name in it.

“Wait.” You look at your smiling face in the picture and then around. “Do I work here now?”

“No. Well, yes, but only because I needed to hire you to give you your own lab.”

“Are you serious?” She agrees with her head. “Mom, that’s so cool! Am I gonna get paid?”

“Absolutely not.” She says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

You drop your backpack close to the door and you go inside to explore the lab. There’s literally everything that you might need. That means no more going around the house and picking up remote controls and old cameras. You’re absolutely awed by the whole thing, and Lena keeps looking at you and chuckling to herself.

“Wow. Thanks mom! This is the coolest thing you’ve ever given me.” You go back to where she’s standing so you can hold her tight. “It’s the best thing anyone has ever given me.”

“Oh.” She smiles from ear to ear. “I’m glad you liked it. Do you mind telling Kara this? She’s always bragging about the necklace.”

“Well, the necklace is also pretty great.” You hold it in your hand and smile at her. “Even though you tampered it.”

“I did no such thing.” You raise an eyebrow and she shrugs. “It’s a microchip, you can take it off in your sleep if you want to. But please don’t.”

“You know I can just take off the necklace now that I know about it and like, run away, right?”

“Why would you run away?” She asks a little worried and you smile so you can ease her mind.

“I’m kidding mom, I mean, I just got my own lab!” You open your arms with the biggest smile on your face and she smiles back at you, looking genuinely happy. “Shall we get to work?”

“I thought you would never ask.” She says going to the computers to show you the results she got with the kryptonites.

Apparently, the force field held his own with the green kryptonite for a few minutes, but didn’t work with the other ones. You and Lena both work in different computers, you’re running some tests, and perfecting your calculations. At one point, you both look at each other at the same time.

“Maybe…”

“I think…”

“You first.” She points at you and you turn your computer screen so she can see it.

“Maybe the bracelet wasn’t a good idea. I’m looking at the shape and…” You start saying and Lena smiles. “What?”

“The bracelet wasn’t a good idea.” She turns her computer screen at you and it’s your turn to smile. “Guess we had the same idea.”

“Well, I do have your brain, don’t I?” You smile and Lena is also static to confirm this. “So, I was thinking, maybe in the belt?”

“That’s good. It covers more areas. It should work.” You both get up at the same time and go around the room collecting everything that you might need. Lena’s phone rings at the moment, and you pretend you can’t hear the entire conversation, and focus on the things in front of you. She hangs up the phone and looks at you. “Baby, I…”

“Yeah, meeting.” You look at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll start on the prototype and you come back whenever you can, ok?”

“Great.” She kisses your cheek and smiles. “Just don’t leave without me.”

“I won’t.” You smile back and she goes to the door. You go back to the tablet in front of you and start simulating with the new shape. Your hands go insane in it, and you’re not even using your super speed, you’re just really excited. In the corner of your eyes, you see Lena standing by the door with a smile. “Mom, don’t you have a meeting to go to?”

“Sorry, yeah I… Was just looking at my baby working.” She says and you turn your face at her. “Kara was wrong. You look just like me.”

“Ok, you two have to stop competing over this kind of stuff.” You laugh and she joins in. “And we both know I look just like momma when she was young.”

“How dare you.” Lena says with a smile still playing on her lips. She finally opens the door to leave. “You are amazing.”

“Are you saying this because I look just like you while working?”

“Obviously.” She laughs and actually leaves.

You are left all alone and you work on the anti-kryptonite belt. You try to make it look just like the one in Kara’ suit. You’re so entertained with the new project you don’t even realize Lena was gone for three hours. You also almost didn’t notice she had returned either, and you only did because you smelled food and your stomach growled.

“I brought Belly Burgers.” She puts some fries in front of you and you’re instantly filled with happiness.

“Rao, you’re the best lab partner ever!” You shove so many French fries in your mouth it’s hard to chew. Lena frowns at that, but decides to ignore it.

“How are we going?” She looks at the belt in front of you. “Oh, you already finished it?”

“Actually…” You go to the other side of the table and grab a box. “I made a few.”

You then proceed to put another four prototypes on the table. Lena’s mouth drops and she looks absolutely in shock.

“This one’s just like Supergirl’s.” You point at a golden one. “And I made a similar one but in silver for myself.” You point at it. “This one’s for Superboy.” You point to another. “And Superman.” And another.

“Wait, you made five… Who’s the last one for?” She grabs the one closer to her and looks at it. “It looks like the Superboy one.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure Conner will break his in like, days, so I’m making him another one.” You come back to her. “But you’re back for the most important part. Let’s see if it works with the new shape and with a different calculation. You have to test it.”

“Don’t you want to do that tomorrow? It’s really late.” Lena says and you furrow your brows.

“Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t want to break in here in the middle of the night and test it myself.”

“Ok. First, you don’t have to break in.” She points at your id. “Second, I would never let you expose yourself to kryptonites, so I’m obviously joking.” You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep either.”

“Ok, go on.” You push her out of your lab, but before leaving she turns back to you.

“Hey, you know it’s a very difficult project, so if it doesn’t work, don’t be discouraged.” She touches your face.

“I know. Just go, please. You’re killing me.” You say and she chuckles, actually leaving this time.

Whilst she tests your prototype, you eat the burgers she brought you. You didn’t realize you were hungry until now. Kara calls you while you wait.

“Hey kid, it’s pretty late. Where are you?”

“At work.”

“What? Kid, stop joking. Where are you?”

“I’m not joking! L Corp hired me, ok? I have my own lab, and an access card.”

“Wait! Are you serious? Your own lab? Can I visit?”

“Sure. You can even eat my leftover fries.”

“Don’t even joke about fries. I’m on my way.”

It doesn’t take long until you hear a knock on the door. It’s obviously not Lena yet, because she has her own card. You open the door and Kara walks in impressed.

“She didn’t actually give you this lab.”

“Oh, but she did.” You give her the biggest smile.

“Dammit Lena, I can’t compete with this.” She mumbles and you laugh. Kara sees her belt at the other side of the table. She doesn’t even ask about it, she just runs to it and picks it up, putting it on.

“What are you doing?” You ask holding her arm when she mentions leaving the lab.

“We have to test it!” She smiles.

“Mom is doing that for me.”

“But Lena’s not Kryptonian. The only way we can be sure is if I try.” Kara resumes walking and you keep pulling her back.

“No way, you’re not going in there! What if it doesn’t work? Momma, please. No!”

“It’s going to work.” Her voice is sure. It leaves no margin for you to think she is not very confident in you and your work. But you’re not.

“It didn’t work the last time.” You hold her tightly. “Please, please. I can’t go through that again. Please.”

“It’s ok, baby.” She holds you back and stops trying to walk. She knows what you’re talking about, so she kisses the top of your head to reassure you. “I won’t go. But I’m sure it will work. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“I heard that!” Lena says coming inside the lab and you and Kara both look at her expectantly. “When did Kara get here?”

“Who cares! What happened? Did it work?” You ask and Lena bites her lips and furrows her brows. Your face drops. “Oh, no. It didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, little one.” Kara holds tightly again, but you let go of her and go back at the table grabbing the tablet.

“It’s ok, I just have to change the capacitor, and like, maybe the solar ce-”

“Baby!” Lena makes you stop talking and you look at her. “Who said it didn’t work?”

“Your face!”

“I was joking.” Lena goes to you and hands you the prototype. “It works! Even with the Harun-El. It held up long enough.”

“It did?” You’re almost jumping when she agrees with a smile. You jump excitedly and Kara does the same. Lena is not really jumping, you don’t think she could even if she wanted, not with those shoes anyways, but she still looks impressed and so proud of you.

“You know what? You are the smartest person I know.” Lena says joining the hug and you feel like you can fly. You can’t believe it worked. You’ll be able to protect Kara, Superboy, your uncle and even yourself! This is the happiest you’ve ever been.

“Honestly, I think I should get paid.” You say after the hug.

“No.”

“Well, you should at least increase my allowance then.”

“It seems fair.” Kara adds and Lena rolls her eyes.

“I’ll consider it.” She says grabbing her things so you all can go home. You follow her to the door and grab your backpack.

“It’s totally happening.” Kara whispers in your ear and you smile. This is, honestly, the best day you had in months.