#go read a henry story please it's so good

[ihaveathingforfictionalmenlol]

KCD Fic recommendations

Since I've seen we've all collectively agreed that there are barely no original character/reader fics for this fandom, I decided to do a list of my absolute favs that I've been reading. If y'all would like other recommendations I'd love to! I'm also going to include ships because I believe those works deserve so much praise too :)

Feel free to comment other recs! Also, I couldn't find all of the authors' accounts here on Tumblr, so if you recognise any please tell me so I can tag them.

Female Reader

Devil's Den by @naraism is sooo good, one of the first I found and I'm obssessed since then. The writing is top tier! Right now it includes one-shots of Žižka, Dry Devil, Adder and Kubyenka :)

Original Female Character

What God has joined together, let only the Devil separate by Zimushka (Ao3) is a OC x Dry Devil fic that has kept me on my phone until 6 am reading all the chapters. It's not finished, but I can't recommend it enough, I LOVE HER CHARACTERISATION OF DRY DEVIL I CAN'T I LOVE IT.

Even though I'm a ride or die Jamuel fan, The Kolín Switch by evensstars (Ao3) is a great one-shot! It's a John x OC and Samuel x OC that was real fun to read.

Katherine x Žižka

I adore Katherine and if you wish to read a bit more of her, In the Shadow of Their Battles by riaword (Ao3) describes her journey so beautifully and gives some more context to her character, providing a Katherine POV that deserves the read.

Henry's Mom x Radzig Kobyla

HEAR ME OUT! First of all, can the devs give my girl a name already?? 😭 Anyways, I found Short Stories feat. Radzig by @pixelcrispp such a fun and interesting read, loved how creative and fresh it was, especially if you wonder as I did how their love/desire came to be.

@one-eyedqueer

He writes the BEST MxM fics out there for the fandom, so I couldn't write KCD fics recommendations without doing a whole category on his works. Godwin x Dry Devil!!! DO I HAVE TO ELABORATE?? SO DAMN GOOD. JAN ŽIŽKA X DRY DEVIL?? FINALLYYYYY. How about some Godwin x Žižka?? THERE'S TOO!!

I recommend checking out his Ao3, but I'll link my favourite one :)

Hansry

The source of my happyness, my boys, my shaylas.

The life may leave my lungs, but my heart will stay with you by @superthirstparty is simply top tier literature. The writing is impeccable, the scenary descriptions are gorgeous and the way they portray Hans and Henry brings tears to my eyes. 10/10.

I'm missing some more (mostly Hansry, but I really need to go grocery shopping rn), so I'd be updating this list probably. Also, I need to read some more I've saved.

[noirs-multiverse]

ive seen some posts abt thg's new prequel or whatever on the tuc tag and honestly same,,,

uhm if ur ever looking for more tuc content you should TOTALLY check out a henry story by @rin-solo (i am incapable of shutting up about that series actually). it's like TWO currently finished books that are like hundreds of thousands of words, and a third one in progress that is also super long

you also get so much new lore, new characters, new places to explore in the underland, IT'S JUST SUCH A GOOD SERIES

[noirs-multiverse]

HONESTLY SAME, i will always find it really weird and sad that stellovet, chim, hero and kent were given screen time like once in PoB and then never brought up again

if you ever want to see more of stellovet or just the fount in general, i highly recommend A Henry Story (AHS) by @rin-solo ! we get an entire part in book 2 of AHS (Trials of the Fallen Prince) devoted to the fount, and especially to stellovet's character

Wish we got more of Stellovet in the later books. Who is this evil bitch

[obsessedjun]

Workplace Admirers

yay first story <3 i'm treating you all to both a platonic and a romantic yandere (both different people)! enjoy romantic coworker yandere and platonic CEO yandere ;) i didn't edit this so... oops if you find mistakes!

~1800 words

💘

"You're kidding me," you mutter under your breath as you find your work desk littered in gifts and letters yet again.

It was clear you had two very dedicated admirers.

Half the presents were in gold and black. Sleek and business-like. The other half was sickly red, and had horribly romantic themes.

This had been going on for a week now, and you couldn't figure out for the life of you who it was!

No matter how many times you cleared your desk, the next morning it would be stacked to the brim again.

You sigh, tossing the bulk of the mess into a bag (in which was actually gifted by one of the two people in order to contain the gifts) until you're only left with the letters.

You play a quick game of eenie-meenie-miney-moe, and make quick work of opening the red letter. This had happened far too many times. You can't even be phased anymore.

Dear my love,

You were so lovely yesterday. I saw the way you flushed at the things I wrote to you. Now I know you do like the poetry I write <3

Have you guessed who I am yet? I hope not, for it'll still be a little while before you can find out.

I hope you like the gifts I'd prepared for you today. I've chosen them especially careful this time.

Love always,

Yours

You can't help but feel a little flattered at how dedicated this person was.

It was creepy in a way, but more endearing as well? You weren't quite sure how to explain it.

You still didn't know who it was or how they had found out so many minute details about your life... but you had to admit it kind of did make you feel loved.

You shake off the butterflies in your stomach as you move on to the next letter, envelope of pure black and of evidently sturdy, expensive material.

Hey kiddo,

You tossed out the lunch I made you yesterday. Are you not eating well?

You shouldn't do that again. It makes me upset that you're not taking care of yourself.

If you continue to prove that you can't be alone, I'll just have to do something about it sooner.

I made you another lunch today. Remember to eat it. I'll be watching you.

Remember that I love you, always.

Be good,

Dad

Now, this was the person that kind of freaked you out. It wasn't like some extremely dedicated workplace crush like the last person.

This guy had been genuinely acting like a father. The gifts he gave you were all childish toys and candy. He always signed his letters with "dad."

You knew for sure that it wasn't your real dad. Although your relationship with your biological father was alright, it was never like this. He didn't care for you at the level that this random person seemed to care.

It was unnerving and gave you the creeps. You only hoped that it was a prank that your coworkers were pulling on you.

You were interrupted from your thoughts when your coworker, Jennifer called out to you.

"Hurry up dudeee," she laughs, "You're taking forever to clear your desk."

She was someone you got along well with and considered a friend. She was in the loop with your "secret admirers" and often joked to you about it.

"Okay, okay," you giggle a little, "I'm just... reading whatever they wrote."

You stuff the letters into your bag, but not before folding them neatly back into their envelopes.

"Oh this is my favorite chocolate!" Jennifer exclaims, holding up a box of expensive looking chocolate on your desk. "Can I have one?"

You glance over at her, seeing the red gift tag and recognizing it as the "lover" and not the "dad."

You shrug. "I guess. I don't feel comfortable eating things from people I don't know, so don't blame me if you get sick."

Suddenly, your other coworker comes up from behind you, startling you a bit.

"Jeez! Henry! Please make some more noise next time!" you complain, nearly jumping out of your seat.

"Sorry," he grins sheepishly. "I don't think you should share what your admirer got you though," he says, a strange tone taking over as he looked at Jennifer.

"What if they only got it for you, and you only?"

You think about it for a moment before shrugging again. "It's only one piece. Besides, I won't eat it anyway." you reason to him.

"Oh dear," he sighs, "I can assure you it's safe to eat. Why don't you just enjoy it by yourself?"

Henry's always been kind of odd like this, but you didn't pay much mind to it.

It wasn't like you weren't weird yourself.

Before you started working here a few months ago, you heard that Henry was quite the loner. You didn't know if you believe that rumor very much though. He was always so friendly with you!

"If you say so," you give in to the sweet smelling chocolates. "Why don't I share it with both of you," you suggest, not wanting to deny Jennifer but also not wanting to ignore Henry.

You open the box, giving a generous piece to Jennifer and a prettily decorated one to Henry.

You pop your own piece into your mouth, savoring the flavor of your favorite chocolate.

"I don't know how this person keeps getting me the stuff I like, it's kind of unnerving but sweet," you remark as you swallow the melted chocolate in your mouth.

"It is freaky, but at least you have expensive taste," Jennifer jokes.

Henry doesn't like that remark very much. At least not the beginning of it.

"I don't think it's freaky," he defends. "It's such a profound and special way of declaring utter devotion and obsession to you. You should take it the same way as you would if your lover sent you gifts everyday."

You smile a little at his words. He was always so passionate about love. He seemed like an utter hopeless romantic.

"Sure Henry, whatever you say," you tease him a little.

"Anyway," he blushes a little, embarrassed (you assume), "What's your favorite flower?"

You tell him earnestly, talking about it for a few minutes before the three of you disperse to do work.

💕

When lunch time finally comes, you groan in relief, stretching your arms.

You think about skipping lunch, half-full from the candy you gorged on all morning already, but you remember the black letter again and shiver.

He said to remember to eat the lunch he made you.

You thought for a moment if it might be poisoned before shaking your head. You had eaten candy from both your admirers and hadn't felt sick yet.

You decided that the lunch was probably safe too.

Jennifer skips over to your desk, Henry trailing behind her.

"Let's go to the cafeteria!" she exclaims, already dragging your arm.

"I hate the cafeteria," you groan, "It's so loud."

"You'll survive!" she tells you, handing you off to Henry to haul you.

He eagerly accepts, wrapping his arms around your waist with no hesitation as he carried you with no problem.

You yelp in surprise, one arm wrapping around him in response and the other hand still gripping the lunch box tightly.

When the three of you find a table, you open the lunch box. It smells delicious.

It's nearly the picture perfect image of a nutritious and hearty lunch, except for the slight misplacement here and there from you moving it around too much.

You take your first bite, in absolute heaven from the rice alone.

You were either severely depriving yourself of good food, or whoever cooked this was a master chef.

Maybe it was both.

You didn't spend time pondering on that though, nearly inhaling the lunch without chewing.

You're so focused that you don't hear the commotion in the cafeteria.

Before you know it, Francis is sitting beside you wiping your mouth with his handkerchief while tutting softly.

You swallow quickly, sitting up straight and turning a bit pink in embarrassment.

A handful of people followed him. He was the CEO after all. Lots of employees wanted to earn extra favor with him.

One look their way and he shooed them away with a whisk of his hand.

"Hi baby," he greets you instead, the glare he sent to others turning to a mushy smile when directed at you. "It looks like you're enjoying lunch."

You interacted with the CEO a lot more than the regular employee. Not to do work... but more of just randomly bumping into him.

He always acted very close with you, it was weird. But, you weren't going to complain. You needed this job.

"Um- yeah! I am," you nod, attempting to eat more politely now that there was someone important looking at you. "I- uh- someone made it for me..." you mutter more quietly, choosing not to expose your secret admirer.

His smile widened with just a hint of something more beneath it.

"Jennifer," he addresses suddenly. "I have a report due from you in an hour. Get it done, please."

She stiffens before nodding. "See you later," she tells you before striding off to her work station.

"Henry." his eyes narrows at the man on the other side of you. "You should refrain from leaving your desk too much. I'm afraid you might be too distracting for some people."

To be fair, Henry did come visit your desk every hour. Still, you had no idea how Francis found out about it.

They both glare at each other from behind your back as you obliviously finish your lunch.

"Ah, lunch is over. I should get back to work." you say, glancing at your watch and taking the excuse as a way to slip out of the awkward situation.

Francis didn't seem to like Henry very much and Henry felt the same.

You had no idea why, but you weren't about to get involved in this mess. (You say, while being the center of it.)

When the work day finally ends, you happily head home, bag stuffed to the brim with the gifts left over from the morning.

When you get back to work early the next day, you're not surprised to see your desk overflowing again.

You can't help but notice a large bouquet of your favorite flowers with a distinct red tag tied to it or how the new lunch box doesn't have any of the things you didn't like during lunch yesterday.

Oh well. It wasn't like your secret admirers were doing anything bad.

If anything, their efforts benefited you more than anything.

You shrug it off, ready to start your work day all over again.

[rwrbficrecs]

confess my truth (in swooping, sloping cursive) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

Madeleine: In the summary it says ”a college AU where Alex realizes he's demisexual and Henry is just about the sweetest guy.”. This one is so darn sweet, important and interesting and I can relate a lot. I’ve read it so many times, I love it so so much!

Who are we to fight the alchemy by @tartadxfresa (book-verse)

@taylor-27: It's an infuriating and flirty gym au. It's Alex and Henry meeting at the gym and striking a friendship all the while the internet is fangirling over their chemistry. It's Henry and Alex doing viral trends. It's swoon worthy.

Show You Off, Tonight I Wanna Show You Off by @swoonoveryou3 (book-verse)

@taylor-27: Alex is a proud husband who also happens to be an actor. Henry is a professor and happily supports his husband. They walk the red carpet for an award show together. It's a hard launch, social media goes wild. That’s it, that's the fic.

Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: SUCH a good multichapter that not only is great from the sci-fi angle and the classic not quite enemies to lovers trope firstprince fans know and love, but is such a great in-depth exploration of reincarnation and all that entails. I absolutely loved this fic!

before the first light by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: A fantasy AU, hints of Greek mythology, AND a soulmate AU, and the boys fighting for each other, plus it's by an author who never fails to write amazing fics? This fic is definitely one you don't want to miss!

i lay where i fell by @thewindowatkirkland (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is short(ish), but it completely blew me away. It’s an AU from Henry’s POV, and he’s struggling to move past an abusive relationship. His dear friend Alex walks with him as he recovers and tries to move forward. The yearning in this story is so perfect and I loved the payoff at the end. Beautiful and absolutely pulls you in, but please consider the tags before reading.

tangled in you by 0npurpose (book/movie-verse)

@dot524: It’s a body-swap AU! Henry and Alex mysteriously swap places after Cakegate, and hilarity, angst, and yearning ensues. I really enjoyed the Henry POV in this fic and the way the body swap immediately casts their relationship in a new light. A fun one to read!

The Throne He Deserves by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: You've read No Consequences, but what about the rest of the series? This installment is a deep dive into Henry's background, his feelings about said background, and Alex's reactions when faced with that reality. Don't worry, though, the author helps alleviate the angst by taking advantage of the personality traits of a couple characters we all love!

The Wait Before the Fall by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a fic that has angst with a happy ending, this is definitely the first place I would start! Between the angst and writing skills of the author, I stayed up late multiple nights in a row just so I didn't end on too bad of a cliffhanger, and I absolutely loved every second of it! Not only that, but this fic helps the series come to such a satisfying conclusion, and, like The Throne He Deserves before it, paints such a good picture of just how far Alex will go for Henry- and Henry's response to that devotion. I'll say it again: I couldn't put this fic down!

What’s Up, Danger? (series) by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is a Spider-Man AU, and it’s so much fun! Since I first bookmarked it and added it to my TBR, it’s become a whole series, and the origin story might be my favorite. Alex is Spider-Man and Henry’s the one who finally found out what was going on with his boyfriend. But there’s a lot of angst and terror that goes along with being the significant other to a superhero. I hope this keeps getting updates, because each installment stands on its own in such a unique way and I want more of this AU!

we can share a lifeline by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Consider this an anti-recommendation — read it only if you're in the mood for a cathartic cry. Or twelve. It hurts. A lot. But it's also brilliant. Raw, real, and so beautiful. Alex and Henry meet in 1983, at just 5 and 6 years old. The last chapter? Set in 2062. The tags say: Growing up, growing old, time jumps, twelve years in the life of Alex and Henry — and honestly, this fic wrecked me in the best possible way.

Coming Up For Oxygen by @clrmntdzfx (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: This canon divergence fic (Alex POV) kicks off after Rio, well before the Royal Wedding. Alex is fed up with his dull uni life in D.C., so he comes up with a plan: a year abroad. In Oxford, of all places. It’s Enemies to Friends to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, packed with angst, emotion, and not to forget the steamy scenes. It’s deliciously long, and every character — even Pez and Ellen — is perfectly written, adding real depth to the story.

The Prince of Nowhere by graceofgrayskull (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Once again, stumbled across a stunning fic thanks to the gorgeous fan art by @lieselart! In this Coffee Shop/University AU, Prince Henry has already left the UK to study in New York — determined to abdicate. But mentally, he’s not in a great place. Then he meets (non-famous) law student Alex, who’s working part-time at a coffee shop. The pining, folks — I practically melted into the sofa. The dual POV is perfect — Henry’s longing and Alex’s teasing are a joy to read, and watching their feelings grow is delightful.

All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by @ahistoricdistraction (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a heavy dose of angst with a happy ending, this fic is for you! Alex ends up in the middle of a plane crash, and, well... Let's just say that this fic has such good Alex characterization, and the author has serious skills creating original characters, because I definitely got attached to a few of them! Absolutely loved this fic!

i can't help it if you look like an angel by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute cutest in this and Alex bonding with him is too! Need I say more?

Give Me Comfort, Give Me Help by @dwell-the-brave (book-verse)

@na-dineee: To quote Pez from this fic: “This is his nightmare, Alex.” Philip dies in a skiing accident, and Henry feels obligated to step up as heir to the throne. This post-canon fic turns Henry and Alex’s world upside down — and it’s absolutely gripping! The entire 'Heavy Weighs the Crown' series offers a rare and incredibly compelling “what if” take on canon-compliant FirstPrince!

And they call it— by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David and Alex bonding and magic, pining Henry... This fic is a combination of some of my favorite things and it absolutely did not disappoint! It's sweet, it's funny and it'll leave you with all the feels.

i can't heal what i hold onto by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry lives with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a chronic condition that is both painful and limiting for him. On top of everything else he has to carry, it adds to a constant feeling of low spirits. But then there’s Alex, who refuses to be pushed away and, little by little, manages to break down Henry’s walls. The story is written with such a gentle and tender touch that, despite all the pain, there’s always a thread of hope running through it.

Always Where I Need To Be by @cha-melodius (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute best boy in this fic! He's so good at taking care of both Alex and Henry, and is a matchmaker too! This was a reread for me, but when I realized it wasn't on our list, I had to fix it, because the author does an amazing job at not only characterization, especially of David, but Henry and Alex too, which is always quite the feat for a oneshot!

praying our bridges don't make waves by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a soulmate fic but set in a sci-fi world where your entire life revolves around your “tether.” Alex opposes the idea of tethering with every iota of his being, but things change when June becomes ill and he conspires with Henry (who he’s just met) to use the tether benefits to pay for treatment. This one held me spellbound and the world is so interesting. Lots of great interaction between Alex and his girls, with Henry, and with himself as he wrestles with internal turmoil to navigate the situation. A really intriguing story!

passing notes in secrecy (i was enchanted to meet you) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This is the absolute cutest high school AU! It's their emails, but the high school version, a 5+1 that will give you all the feels because of how much they care about each other in this oneshot.

Break Out by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@porcelainmortal: I waited to start this wip (now complete) because I am so not a hockey girl in any way, shape, or form. Turns out that doesn't matter because this fic is so brilliantly written! The hockey is there, but the technical aspects aren't overwhelming and the focus is on the characters. A lot of the OCs are interesting and fun, but naturally, Alex and Henry are the center of everything. This story has absolutely gripped me and I can't wait for the last two chapters almost as much as I wish there was even more of it left.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[sivyera]

DATING MALE CELEBRITIES WOULD INCLUDE...

ft. tyler hoechlin, jacob elordi, tom cruise, jeremy sumpter, robert pattinson, cillian murphy, henry cavill, tom hardy, sam worthington, tom felton, rupert grint

a/n: i was focused on actors that doesn't get much attention but if you have any other celebrity in mind, please let me know in the comments! also i don't know if this is good because i included their favourite things, hobbies etc (with you ofc) just to make it more detailed and not boring... so i hope you guys like it:) if you want more detailed fic or just about one celebrity, let me know!

༻♛༺

⤷ Tyler Hoechlin

-Tyler writes you love letters. Pretty often. When he cannot be with you or is busy with his job, he'll sit down at night when he's alone and write you a letter about how much he misses you, how he's doing and about his job.

-Tyler loves sports, mostly baseball. So he'll take you with him to play baseball; he doesn't care if you don't know how, he will be happy when you just throw a ball to him. He'll take you to hockey matching or ice skating, if you don't know how to ice skate, don't worry he'll gladly teach you.

-He can talk a bit Spanish so he'll sometimes call you by Spanish pet names like cariño, mi amor or querida. And he'll be all cheesy about it which makes you laugh but it's also really sweet when he does that.

-Tyler loves his family so he was a bit nervous when he first introduced you to them, because their opinion mattered to him but he also loved you. But his nervousness disappear right after you and his family clicked. His family loves you which makes Tyler so happy.

-He plays guitar so he often plays to you. He loves how your eyes light up when he plays, he just loves making you happy and if he's making you happy by playing on his guitar, he'll gladly play all day.

-Tyler also loves traveling so when he has a week off, he takes you somewhere to the forest camping or to the ocean to relax, depends where you wanna go.

⤷ Jacob Elordi

-Jacob would post you on his instagram like ALL THE TIME. On his stories or just regular post because he loves to show you of. He will also post the most random photos of you that you didn't even know he took. But he loves every single one of them.

-Because of his role on 'the kissing booth' he learned how to drive a motorcycle so sometimes he takes you for a ride, it makes the both of you feel so free and you are with each other.

-No surprise that Jacob loves sports. His most favourite are basketball and surfing. Which means he takes you to play basketball with him or watch him how he plays with his friends, cheering for him ofc. When it comes to surfing he'll gladly teach you but again he prefers when you cheer for him or just watch him after that you two will have a playful fight in water.

-Jacob is a huge cuddle bug and he just loves when you lay on his chest so he can wrap his big arms around your tiny figure. When he cannot cuddle with you he will have one of his arms on your shoulder or around your waist.

-Jacob is actually a fan of poetry so you often find him reading it, but he will be over the moon if you read him his favourite poetries. You two will also have deep conversations about the true meanings of the poetries.

-He's a huge dog lover so it will be no surprise of you two get a dog, maybe two.

-He will get your name tattooed on his chest close to his heart. And you two will get matching tattooes.

⤷ Tom Cruise

-Tom loves skydiving which makes you a bit worried all the time since it's a extreme sport but if you are also a fan of extreme sports than he'll take you with him.

-Tom likes junk food like chips, fries, coca-cola etc. so you two have almost everything that comes to your mind at home. When you two watch a movie and cuddle on the sofa, he always has some chips or popcorn.

-He loves when you read to him and he really appreciate it because he loves hearing your voice and he has dyslexia which makes it hard for him to read. He usually lays on your chest while you read to him and play with his hair.

-He's a pilot and he own several aircraft so when you need to relax and he needs to take a break from his job, you just get into one of them and fly wherever you two wants.

-Tom loves under water scenes, which makes him love water. Like I said when you two needs to take a break from work and the fame, you fly in is aircraft somewhere and the 'somewhere' it's mostly somewhere where is hot weather or beach or ocean/sea.

-Tom is famous for doing all of his stunts because he's a adrenaline junky but it makes you sometimes worried because it can be dangerous. He always make sure that after a stunt he goes to you, tells you he's okay and kiss you.

⤷ Jeremy Sumpter

-Jeremy loves traveling and his favourite color is green, which leads you two take a trip to the forest, pretty often. Just walking around, listening to the singing birds, holding each others hands and having silly or deep conversation, depends on the day and mood.

-Jeremy is a dog lover. He has a dog named Bear and he takes him on the trips to the forest you two go. Bear absolutely loves you which makes Jeremy happy.

-He loves your cooking but he himself is a bad cook so he either helps you, but you have to give him detailed informations or he just hugs you from behind and watch you cook. If you make his favourite food he will be the happiest man alive, his favourite food are spaghetti.

-Jeremy also loves sport and to his favourite ones belongs baseball and soccer. He used to play them when he was a kid so his mom shows you some of his photos where he is in a dress or something. He also takes you on matches and explains you all the rules.

-He also loves water and swimming, so when you two goes on some vacation is usually somewhere to the ocean.

-Jeremy loves the movie called 'The Deer Hunter' so you two watch it like all the time while cuddling on the sofa or bed. His face in your neck, his arms around your waist and your hand playing with his blond curls.

⤷ Robert Pattinson

-Robert is a music lover, he wrote few songs and he can also sing pretty well so it was no surprise when he wrote a song about you, then sing it to you while playing on the piano.

-He's fluent in French so when he's feeling extra romantic or just in a playful mood, he will talk to you in French or call you by some French pet names like Mon amour or Mon chéri, otherwise he calls you darling, my love or baby.

-Robert loves cooking and when is it with you, he's even more happy to do it. Sometimes when you are exhausted from job, he'll prepare you a nice dinner and visa verse.

-You two watch war, drama or horror movies together. For example 'The Exorcist' or 'Come and See' are the type of movies you two watch together, because he's a fan of paranormal same as you, which leads to deep conversations. Rob is hugging you from behind while still laying down on your shared bed. Him kissing the back of your head once in a while.

-Robert is a dog lover, he always helps the homeless dogs but he can never keep them. You two will soon get a dog and it will be one of the best decisions Rob could ever make (the first, best one was to start dating you).

-Rob is literature fan which means picnic dates. You two somewhere private, laying on a picnic blanket with some homemade food, reading books and then having deep conversations about them.

⤷ Cillian Murphy

-Cillian also loves music so it will be no surprise if he will made a song about you and he'll gladly sing it to you. He didn't write you just a one song, you have a full album of his songs that he gave you.

-At nights were you have a trouble to fall asleep, he will read to you. He will read you another chapter of your favourite book or poems he wrote (they are often about you). After he's done reading, he'll hug you tight with your head placed on his chest, rubbing small circles on your back with kiss on your forehead.

-Cillian is also a big fan of literature and he loves when you give him recommendations. He doesn't care what genre the book is (detective, romance, horror,...) if you recommended it to him, he will read it.

-You two end up getting a dog or a cat, maybe both. Because Cillian is an animal lover, you will do most of the job around the dog/cat because Cillian is often really busy but he'll always make a time for you.. and the dog/cat.

-He's big fan of a Liverpool football club so you two will often be seen on their games with matching t-shirts and caps.

-His favourite part of the day will be night (or every day time he can spend with you) because he can read to you, have you in his arms, cuddled up to his chest while placing soft kisses on your forehead, cheek, lips, neck (any part he can reach)

⤷ Henry Cavill

-Henry, to your surprise, loves playing games on his PC. When he plays he'll have you sat on his lap with his arms idly wrapped around you while still having his hands on the controller/mouse. From time to time he'll kiss any part of your skin he can reach (cheek, neck,..).

-He rides a motorcycle and he loves when you wanna ride with him. Your arms wrapped around his waist while just riding around with no care in the world.

-Henry can speak a bit of Italian, French and Spanish and if you will help him to get better in those languages, he'll be so grateful. But this 'learning dates' you two have never goes as you planned, because he is always distracted by your beauty.

-He also loves cooking so if you had a bad day, Henry is already waiting at your house with dinner and fresh flowers.And for dessert, a warm bath with soft kisses all over your face.

-Henry can ride a horse so one of his ideas for date is a picnic at beautiful meadow but getting there on horses. If you can't ride a horse that's fine, you will sat behind him, if you can ride a horse maybe you two will even race who's gonna be there first.

-He loves cuddling you, because you feel so small in his big arms. He loves having his arms wrapped around you because it makes him feel like he's protecting you but when you stroke his hair he absolutely melts into you.

⤷ Tom Hardy

-Tom LOVES motorcycles. And he LOVES you, which means that you and him are often seen by paparazzi on his motorcycle either just for a simple ride or with packed things ready to sleep somewhere in the woods in tent or something similar.

-Tom loves challenges, so on these trips on his motorcycle, he makes sure there are some adrenaline, challenging stuff like jumping off of a cliff to clear cold water.

-Going into the gym together, watching him workout OR workout with him, but if you do work out with him he'll make sure to have easier workout with you because he's much stronger than you and he doesn't want you to hurt yourself.

-Tom loves reading comic books and he has one special comic book with Venom placed in the living room.

-He has a dog named Woody and when he's busy with acting, you will watch after him. Taking him out for walks, cuddling with him, playing with him and when he comes back and makes time for you and Woody, he'll make it up to the both of you.

-Tom has many tattoos all over his body so it's no surprise when one night when you two were making out you find out that he had you name tattooed on his lower belly near to his dick.

⤷ Sam Worthington

-Sam loves rock climbing for two main reasons, it's a excellent way how to relieve stress (besides spending time with you) and he can show off his back muscles, because he knows you love it.

-He's a lover of extreme sports so you can often be a bit worried that something can happen to him, but he always calms you down a bit with a kiss on your forehead. If you wanna try some of extreme sports with him, he'll be so happy.

-He's also a nature lover so trips are usually somewhere quiet and in nature, forest, meadow,... he loves going on trips with you because you two can be alone in peace and he can have you all to himself.

-He's an australian so it's no surprise he loves surfing. If you never tried it he will teach you but he won't be much focused on teaching, he's focused more on you and your beauty.

-Sam loves music AND he can play on the guitar and drums. He will take the guitar on the trips you two have, playing some songs you love on the guitar to you at the campfire.

-He also draws a lot. Many of his drawings are you or for you or of your favourite things. Please don't mind him, he just loves everything about you.

⤷ Tom Felton

-Everyone knows that Tom never left the Harry Potter fandom and you love Harry Potter as well, so it wasn't surprise when Tom posted you and him in a Harry Potter merch (him in Slytherin colors and you in your own house colors) on his instagram.

-He has a dog named Willow so his wallpaper is you holding Willow in your arms with Harry Potter merch on you (Willow has his Slytherin scarf and you have his Slytherin sweatsthirt)

-Again Tom as many other actors, loves music. He writes songs, sings, plays on a guitar. Many of his songs includes you and Willow, your relationship or his emotions.

-He will have your name tattooed near to his collarbone with a little heart next to it.

-Tom will show off his skills on his skateboard. He can skate pretty well and he's always so smiley and happy when you compliment him. If you ask, he'll also teach you few basic tricks but prepare for some bruises from all the falls, he'll kiss you as many times as much bruises you will have.

-Tom loves when you give him back massages, doesn't matter if you massage him with some fancy oils and with you palms stroking up and down on his back with some gentle rubbs or he can lay on your chest and you can scratch his back with you nails.

⤷ Rupert Grint

-Rupert loves ice cream and at one time he bought a ice cream van and gave ice cream to all the actors from Harry Potter with you helping him. He'll often take you on a ice cream date or will cuddle you while watching movies and eating ice cream.

-One of his favourite actors is Jim Carrey, which means you two often watch movies where he played and you somehow managed to get him a autograph form Jim, which made him incredibly happy you can't even imagine.

-If you two are not watching movies with Jim Carrey then definitely MCU movies, because he's a fan of marvel.

-Rupert love Artic Monkeys so when you two bake together there is always one of their songs playing softly in the background. He will often mumble the lyrics without realizing and if you point it out, he'll blush.

-Rupert is a dog lover so you two often visit nearest shelters and play with the dogs there. Rupert and you fell in love with one of the dogs, dalmatian named Teddy, so you adopted him. After a year you bought another dog but this time not from a shelter but from a verified seller.

-He loves photographing and his favourite things to photograph is you and your dogs, no wonder that there are so many pictures of you two or the dogs around the house, but he keeps his favourite besides him on his night table.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Plssss continue the another ending story its sooo good plsss😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏

Another Ending - End | B. Barnes

Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.

Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , End .

You asked, and you shall receive. Thanks, Noonie. This is also a wake-up call for me to finish this.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It had been a month since they received the data. Life had gone back to normal—well, as normal as it could be. Lori, you, Bucky, and Henry were now living in a new place.

Out of nowhere, Bucky had shown you all his house—a stunning place by the beach. It had floor-to-ceiling glass walls and a garage filled with sports cars.

Lori’s jaw dropped in awe. “I thought you were one of those house-husband types."

“House husband?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t wanna know,” you said, brushing off the comment with a shake of your head.

You turned back to the house, your eyes scanning the sleek architecture. “So this is the payment for being a triple agent?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Bucky chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “No. This is a gift from my dad—to make up for forgetting my 17th birthday.”

Your eyes widened. “You jerk! You made me pay for all the drinks that time!” You playfully shoved his shoulder.

“You were my supervisor back then,” he said, grinning. “It would’ve been disrespectful to say no.”

Then, his expression softened. He reached for your hand and held it gently. “But now, no more lies. Not with you.”

There was a pause. The wind from the beach brushed through your hair as you looked at him, really looked at him. The sunlight caught the side of his face, and in that moment, he wasn’t a spy or a survivor—just someone who wanted a fresh start, same as you.

Inside the house, Lori watched through the large window, a soft smile on her lips.

“My work here is done,” she whispered dramatically.

Henry, sprawled on the sofa with one arm draped over his eyes, groaned. “Are you done spying on them?”

“This isn’t spying,” Lori said, arms flailing in protest. “It’s observation. As Cupid, I did a fantastic job. Romance is in the air!” She clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to be my aunt’s flower girl.”

Henry scoffed, shifting to sit upright. “I wish life was really that easy—for people like me, your aunt, and Bucky.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, frowning.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We live in shadows, Lori. Danger, secrets... The kind of life you’re picturing? It’s not real for people like us. Most of us live with fear, not freedom.”

Lori’s shoulders sagged. “That’s not fair. But you’ve all quit. You deserve another chance. A new start.”

Henry stared at the floor for a moment. “If it were that simple, I’d have reconciled with my ex, and I’d be living in a house with a white picket fence.” He chuckled bitterly. “Instead, I’m here—still alone.”

After a beat, he turned to her. “By the way, why didn’t you go to school?”

Lori glanced away, suddenly interested in the ceiling. “I’m doing online classes.”

“Uh-huh…” Henry raised an eyebrow.

He tilted his head. “What about your mom? Don’t you miss her?”

“She’s busy. Doing a book tour,” she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I prefer being here.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

You and Lori were walking down the grocery store aisle, your cart half-filled as the wheels squeaked beneath it. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, and the cold air from the freezer section drifted across your arms.

Lori reached for a bag of chips and glanced around. “Aunty, remember the last time we came to the store? Someone tried to shoot us—and that’s how we met Bucky.”

You shot her a sharp look and whispered, “Don’t say it out loud.” You scanned the other shoppers, your instincts still on edge.

Lori shrugged, unfazed. “Do you think something exciting will happen again?”

You sighed, pushing the cart forward. “Dear God, I hope not.” You handed her the shopping list. “Can you grab half of the things from the list? Start with aisle three.”

“Okay,” she replied cheerfully, skipping off toward the cereal aisle.

Lori reached for a cereal box on the top shelf, tiptoeing to grab it. As she pulled it down, her grip slipped—almost sending the box tumbling in slow motion. But before it could hit the floor, a hand caught it swiftly.

“Thank you,” she said, blinking in surprise.

The man, dressed in a dark coat, gave her a brief nod. “Pozhaluysta,” (*You're welcome) before turning and walking away without another word.

Lori tilted her head, watching his retreating back. Something about him felt... off. She clutched the box tighter and hurried to find you.

You were by the produce section, picking out apples, when Lori came running up.

“Aunty, I just met someone. He helped me with the cereal box. I think he’s a foreigner—maybe Russian?”

Your smile faded. “Russian?” Your stomach turned. A chill ran down your spine.

You grabbed her wrist gently. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

Back home, the tension clung to you like damp air. You unpacked the groceries in silence, glancing over each item as if expecting something to jump out. Then your hands froze.

Taped under the cereal box was a small note. Folded once. Slipped so subtly it could’ve been missed.

You unfolded it with trembling fingers.

“Not fair.” - Written in Russian.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky entered the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing your expression.

Wordlessly, you handed him the note.

His eyes scanned the message. His jaw clenched. “Is that…?”

“I’m not sure,” you whispered. “But I have a bad feeling. That man—he spoke to Lori.”

Bucky exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s not a good sign.”

You stared out the window, heart pounding. “We have to protect her.”

“She won’t like it,” he warned gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You looked back at him, voice firm. “She doesn’t have to like it. She just has to be safe.”

You and Bucky sat Lori down in the living room. The air was heavy with unspoken tension. She tilted her head, curious but cautious.

You took a deep breath. “Lori… I called your mom. She agreed—it’s time for you to go back.”

Lori blinked, her expression frozen for a second. Then her eyes welled with tears. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go. I like it here.”

Your heart cracked at the sight of her trembling lips and glassy eyes. “Sweetheart,” you knelt in front of her, holding her hands gently, “I know it’s hard to understand, but you’re not safe here anymore.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why? Didn’t you say we were done with the agency? That they wouldn't bother you guys again?”

“We did,” Bucky said quietly, standing nearby with his arms crossed, his jaw tight. “But this isn’t about the agency.”

“Then who?” Lori asked, her voice shaking.

You looked her in the eyes. “Grigory. The weapons dealer. The one from the book you read.”

Lori blinked. “Wait... wasn’t he dead?”

“In the book, yes,” you said softly. “But in real life, there was no body. No confirmation. Just silence.”

Henry, lounging in the corner, added, “His daughter is dead. And that only means one thing—revenge.”

The room fell silent.

Bucky looked down at the floor, jaw clenched. His knuckles were white as he gripped the back of the chair. It was his bullet that ended her life. No one said it, but everyone knew.

You reached out, gently squeezing Bucky’s hand. “It was an order,” you whispered, reminding him—reminding yourself.

That mission had haunted both of you. Sleepless nights. Regret. Silence. The kind of guilt that never left.

Lori wiped her tears and looked at both of you. Her voice was soft but strong. “Then don’t stay stuck in the past. You’ve both punished yourselves long enough.”

Her words pierced straight through you. Bucky looked up in surprise. Even Henry paused, visibly impressed.

“How did you come up with that?” Bucky asked.

“I read a lot of books,” Lori said with a sniff. “Most of the main characters carry trauma. But they learn to live. To move forward.”

She smiled gently. “And destiny always brings people together. If it’s meant for you—it’ll always find a way back to you.”

You choked back a laugh, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, Lori.”

Henry folded his arms with a smirk. “If I’d hired someone like you back in the day, maybe my agents would’ve stuck around longer.”

Bucky leaned over and whispered, “You’re ruining the moment.”

You cupped Lori’s face and looked her in the eyes. “It’s still not safe… but I promise, once this is over—once we’re sure no one is coming after us—we’ll be together again. No more running. No more danger.”

Lori wiped her eyes and nodded slowly. “Fine. But you have to promise we’ll see each other again. Soon.”

The next day, the car was packed and waiting. You walked Lori to the passenger side, holding her hand the whole way.

Bucky stood by the driveway, hands in his jacket pockets.

Before getting in, Lori turned to him. “Will you meet me again?”

He gave her a half-smile. “Of course. We’re besties.”

She giggled, wiping her eyes again. “You better not forget.”

“I won’t,” he said, giving her a small salute.

She climbed into the car, rolled the window down, and waved at Bucky and Henry.

“Bye, guys!”

“Take care, kid,” Henry called, raising his hand.

Bucky gave a short nod and watched the car drive away, silent.

You didn’t say a word as you drove. But your grip on the steering wheel tightened, and your heart quietly promised Lori: This won’t be the end.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The sun dipped low as you drove along the winding highway, mountains casting long shadows over the road. Lori sat quietly beside you, clutching her backpack and watching the trees blur past the window. For the first time since this morning, things seemed calm.

Then you noticed it.

A black SUV, maybe two cars behind. You glanced at the rearview mirror again. Same distance. No change in speed. No attempt to pass.

Your eyes narrowed. You tapped the steering wheel twice—a silent habit whenever your instincts kicked in.

“Aunty?” Lori turned to you.

“Lori, buckle up,” you said calmly.

She frowned but obeyed. “Why?”

You glanced in the mirror once more. The SUV changed lanes as you did. Then another car appeared—one you hadn’t seen before. And then another.

Three. Maybe four.

“They’re following us,” you muttered, your tone low.

“What?” Lori’s voice jumped.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you gripped the wheel tighter and pressed down on the gas.

The engine roared as your car surged forward. Tires screeched behind you.

The first bullet hit your rear windshield. Glass shattered.

Lori screamed and ducked instinctively. You kept driving.

Two black sedans flanked you, forcing you into the center lane. Your heart pounded. The world slowed around you—your training taking over.

You swerved right, clipping one of the cars. It spun out, slamming into the guardrail.

“Hold on!” you shouted, pulling a hard left. Lori screamed again, gripping the handle on the ceiling.

You barreled down a side road, the remaining cars close behind. Another shot whizzed past, barely missing your side mirror.

Lori clutched your arm. “They’re still behind us!”

“I see them.”

A third car pulled alongside. A man leaned out with a rifle.

You jerked the wheel, slamming your car into his before he could fire. He flew off-balance. The car spun and crashed into a ditch.

Two left.

You made it to an overpass, but one of the cars rammed into your bumper hard. You lost control for a second, the car skidding toward the concrete barrier.

Lori screamed as you fought the steering. The tires squealed.

Another shot—this one grazed your shoulder. You hissed, pain shooting down your arm.

Then, from the side—a blur of motion.

Boom!

An explosion rocked the road behind you. One of the chasing cars was suddenly engulfed in fire.

Bucky’s motorcycle tore into view like a beast out of hell, his face hidden behind a dark visor, rifle slung across his back.

He shot the last car’s front tire. It flipped in mid-air and crashed in a storm of metal and sparks.

You tried to slow down, adrenaline crashing hard. But the blood loss…

You blinked. The world tilted.

“Aunty!” Lori grabbed your arm. “You’re bleeding!”

You smiled faintly, your voice thin. “You’re safe…”

Then everything went black.

🏥🏥🏥🏥

The fluorescent lights buzzed softly. You lay in a hospital bed, pale but stable, IV lines in your arm. Sedatives had knocked you out. You needed rest, the doctors said. No major internal injuries, but you’d lost too much blood.

Lori sat beside your bed, her arm wrapped in a light bandage. Just a scratch. Her eyes were red from crying, but she stayed strong.

“She protected me,” she whispered. “She didn’t stop driving.”

Bucky stood by the window, fists clenched, jaw tight. His eyes hadn’t left your still form.

He turned to Henry.

“This was a message,” Bucky said, voice low and seething.

Henry nodded grimly. “It was Grigory’s people.”

“That bastard sent mercs after a kid,” Bucky muttered. His tone was ice-cold. “I'm done waiting.”

“Bucky…” Henry tried to reason.

But Bucky was already walking out the door.

💥💥💥💥💥

A cold wind howled through the isolated forest surrounding the crumbling, once-grand mansion. The estate sat like a rotting carcass on the edge of the wilderness—tall iron gates, stone statues overgrown with ivy, and floodlights illuminating the perimeter.

Dozens of guards patrolled the grounds—heavily armed and alert.

But they started dropping.

One by one.

A suppressed sniper round tore through the silence.

A guard on the rooftop collapsed without a sound.

Another crumpled near the front steps, his rifle clattering to the ground.

Panic began to spread. Shouts in Russian echoed through the comms.

“Sniper! Find the bastard!”

But it was too late. Bucky Barnes was already inside.

He moved like a shadow. Black tactical gear, rifle in hand, knife strapped to his thigh. The Winter Soldier persona—cold, controlled, unstoppable—had returned.

Two guards turned the corner.

Two clean shots. Both down before they could raise their weapons.

He stormed down the hallway, the marble floor stained with footprints and blood. He knew exactly where Grigory would be.

Grigory sat behind an antique desk, a cigar smoldering in a crystal ashtray. His once-refined face now worn, eyes bloodshot, grief having chewed through the edges of his sanity.

When the door slammed open, Grigory didn’t even flinch.

Bucky walked in, gun raised, expression stone-cold.

“Been a long time,” Grigory said with a bitter smirk.

“You look worse than your last Interpol photo,” Bucky said, stepping closer.

Grigory stood slowly, eyes never leaving Bucky’s.

“Why do you get to keep going?” he growled. “Why do you get to live while I’m still haunted by my daughter every goddamn day?”

“If it were anyone else asking me that,” Bucky replied coldly, “I’d say I was sorry.”

He took another step forward.

“But not you.”

Grigory’s eyes darkened. His fists clenched. “You murdered my daughter.”

“No,” Bucky said, voice low. “Your weapons murdered millions. Your daughter was just unlucky enough to have a monster for a father.”

Grigory snapped.

“Suka blyad’!” he cursed in Russian, slamming his fist against the desk. Rage boiled over in his face.

“And you hurt my girlfriend and her niece,” Bucky continued, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. “That’s my line. You crossed it.”

“I lost everything!” Grigory roared. “You took her from me! You—!”

“You killed her the moment you turned your back on humanity,” Bucky cut him off, voice like ice. “You don’t get to play the victim.”

Grigory’s hand twitched toward the drawer.

Too late.

Bang!

The shot echoed through the study. A perfect center-mass hit.

Grigory staggered back, coughing blood, collapsing into his leather chair—eyes wide, frozen in disbelief.

Bucky stepped closer, looming over him.

“For someone like you, hell follows you wherever you go,” he whispered.

Grigory’s body went limp.

Bucky stood there in the silence, breathing steady, smoke rising from the muzzle of his pistol.

After 7 years, the mission is finally complete.

🏥🏥🏥🏥

Soft sunlight seeped through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the white bedsheets. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the quiet room, steady and calm.

You had just opened your eyes, groggy from the medication but alive — and that was enough.

Lori sat by your side, her small hand wrapped around yours. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw you awake.

“Auntie,” she whispered, teary-eyed. “You scared me.”

You gave her a tired smile, gently brushing your fingers across her cheek. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to.”

Just then, the door opened.

Bucky stepped inside, blood wiped clean, his clothes changed, but the weight of the night still clung to him. When he saw your eyes open, something in him shifted — relief, deep and real.

Behind him, Henry stood near the hallway, quietly speaking to your sister. His usually cold tone softened. Your sister immediately came here when she heard you got admitted to the hospital. 

“Don't let cancer decide how you live your life,” she told him, arms crossed but voice steady. “Just... enjoy the time you’ve got. That’s more than most people get.”

Inside the room, Lori noticed Bucky and grinned.

“Bucky!” she whispered loudly, running over to hug him. He knelt and caught her easily, holding her close.

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said softly. “You did good.”

After a few more minutes, everyone began to leave the room, giving you space to rest. Lori gave you one last hug and whispered, “I’ll be just outside.”

Now, it was just the two of you.

Silence lingered for a moment, comfortable but heavy with things unspoken.

Bucky pulled a chair beside your bed and sat down, resting his arms on his knees. He looked at you — not the way a soldier looks at a survivor, but the way a man looks at something he almost lost.

“I thought I’d lose you,” he said quietly, his voice raw.

You reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his knuckles. “But you didn’t lose me.”

He looked down at your hand in his, holding it a little tighter. “No. But for a moment, I thought I had.”

You exhaled softly, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You’ve been through worse, haven’t you?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. But this felt different. Watching that car chase, hearing your voice on the radio — it wasn’t just a mission. It was you.”

You let the silence hang between you for a moment, then said quietly, “Maybe it’s time we stop living like we’re waiting for the next disaster.”

He met your eyes, tired but clear. “Maybe it’s time to figure out what comes next.”

You studied his face — the faint bruises along his jaw, the fatigue in his eyes, but also the calm. It was new. And it felt real.

“You think we’ve got a shot at this?” you asked, your voice low.

He gave a slight smile. “We’ve been through enough. I don’t know what the future looks like, but I’d rather face it with you than without you.”

You laughed gently, your ribs aching with the motion. “That’s the most un-Bucky romantic line I’ve ever heard.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the edge of your bed. “Don’t get used to it.”

You grinned. “No promises.”

There was a pause. The room felt still, peaceful — like the world had slowed down just enough to let you breathe again.

“So... what now?” you asked.

Bucky gave your hand a light squeeze. “Now we take it slow. One step at a time. No rushing. No running.”

You nodded, the weight on your chest a little lighter. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And there was no urgency for the first time in a long while. Just the quiet possibility of something new.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

4 Years Later

Lori sat cross-legged on the soft rug in the living room, her little finger trailing under the words of a worn fairytale book. Her voice was animated, each sentence full of wonder.

“And then the princess said, ‘I don’t need a prince to save me — I’ve got dragons to tame!’”

Two twin toddler boys sat across from her, each holding a stuffed toy — one a plush lion, the other a squished airplane with a bent wing. They weren’t talking much yet, just babbling nonsense and giggling at the sound of her voice. But they were listening, eyes wide, fully locked in on the story.

Lori looked up and smiled at them. “You two don’t even know what a dragon is, do you?”

One of the twins drooled onto his lion, the other clapped like she’d just finished a Broadway performance.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. “Guess I’ll have to teach you everything.”

Just then, the front door opened with a soft click, and a familiar voice called out, “We’re home.”

Lori’s eyes lit up as she looked over her shoulder.

You stepped in, shrugging off your coat, Bucky right behind you, holding a paper bag of leftover popcorn and drinks from the cinema. His hair was slightly windblown from the ride home, and he looked as tired as he was amused.

“How’s the movie?” Lori asked, hopping up with more energy than grace.

Bucky scoffed, tossing the bag onto the table. “Tsk. Five out of ten. Who the hell played my character?”

You grinned as you started pulling off your shoes. “He said that after I mentioned the actor was handsome.”

Lori gasped. “You said that in front of Uncle Bucky?”

You winked. “I like to keep him humble.”

The twins toddled toward Bucky, one holding out the bent-wing airplane. Bucky scooped them up easily, one in each arm, like it was second nature. They squealed, delighted, calling him “Buck-buck” in their half-formed baby language.

Lori’s attention shifted to the entryway table, where you had placed a single white rose in a thin glass vase. She stepped closer, her eyes softening.

“That’s…”

You nodded, voice quiet. “Yeah… visited him.”

Before the movie, you and Bucky had stopped by the cemetery — Henry’s grave. The moment had been quiet, no need for words. Just the two of you, standing there with a white rose and a shared memory.

After finding out that Henry had cancer, it brought the three of you closer. You traveled, shared laughter, arguments, stories, and pain. And six months later, Henry passed, surrounded by the only people who had truly seen him for who he was.

On his deathbed, he said, “No regrets. Not anymore. Not when you’re here.”

At the funeral, Lori cried harder than anyone. Losing Henry brought back every memory of her own father. The grief hit her like a storm. But you never left her side.

And when you asked her to be your flower girl for the wedding, something shifted. The sparkle returned. The stories returned. So did her laughter.

And now, four years later, you and Bucky had built something real. It hadn’t been easy — nothing worth keeping ever is. But you weren’t stuck in the past anymore. You’d fought for this life, and somehow, against all odds, you’d made it yours.

You sat down beside Lori, brushing her hair behind her ear as the twins giggled in the background.

“You were right,” you said softly.

She blinked. “About what?”

You smiled. “Romance is alive.”

She grinned, her nose scrunching in that familiar way. “Told you.”

Bucky stepped behind you, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. The sunlight pouring through the window made the room feel like a moment suspended in time — warm, safe, and finally, yours.

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

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[housemdork]

house md rewatch: 2x14, "sex kills"

will i be making the argument that the STD-ridden heart transplant is another marker of wilson's compulsive heterosexuality? keep reading to find out (yes).

another oops! moment, and this time it's all wilson.

in the midst of my thrill over the very end of this episode, i forgot that, overall, i'm not it's biggest fan. i think the patient story is so wild that it deserves more time in the spotlight to be even remotely believable, but instead it's reduced to, very simply put, the bodily dangers of sex lol. but hey - just about anything is better than 2x13.

the flipside of the episode's ethos of "sex kills" is the question of impulse control - do we have it? is it strong enough to suppress or basest desires? can we even go without those basest desires? house md banks more on nurture over nature (and don't think otherwise! house wants us to believe in nature's primacy! but dammit, house does change! he can be nurtured!), but not without some pushback and resistance all encompassed in cheater extraordinaire: early seasons james wilson.

the episode begins and ends with the zenith of wilson's relationship issues, which house pokes and prods at to no end. at first, nothing happens that we don't already know about: wilson has been cheating on and off on his wife, hasn't spent enough time at home, etc., implying that he has no impulse control. the satisfying twist at the end is that julie has been having an affair all along, anyways, but more on that later.

also important to note is that, when first confronted with house's interest in his cheating, wilson claims that "it's not all about sex, house." he's obviously being facetious here and blindly hoping that julie will accept that his feelings for her, rather than just his infidelity, will absolve him. as i'll expound on, 2x14 then goes on to MOSTLY confirm that most everything is about sex...but please stay tuned because i have so much to say about the scene where wilson finally admits this. look at this mf:

anyways. the most insane part of this episode isn't just the fact that they transplant a gonnorhea-ridden heart into the primary patient, henry, but that the donor's husband, ronald, admits at the eleventh hour that he's the one who gave laura the STD, effectively killing her. what kills me about this, apart from its general lunacy, is that this attempts to absolve wilson later on. poor cameron, having to hear this batshit confession.

not only does the laura/ronald debacle debacle between laura/ronald confirms that not only is it (human relationships) always about sex, but that sex trumps rationality. had ronald just told the team that he'd given her gonnorhea, so much could have been avoided. there's something exceptionally disgusting about him vicariously using laura's body to absolve himself, as though if her physical form can do a good deed based on his decision, then he gets some forgiveness out of the equation. it's irrational!

meanwhile, however, the main patient and recipient of laura's STD-ridden heart is henry. the team has myriad diagnoses for him, high among the list some kind of STD. when they find that the issue is in his heart, henry is too old to move up the transplant list, so house goes off the books and selects an inviable heart that they cure after the fact.

one of my favorite pieces of this episode is what he says to house after confessing that he's slept with his estranged wife: "if you're not prepared to look stupid, then nothing great is ever gonna happen, right?"

first, henry argues that even if sex comes at the cost of rationality, is that always a bad thing? but, secondly, this statement cuts right through house's relationship troubles thus far. his impermeable defenses prohibit him for having any meaningful connections; the times he's shown vulnerability have either gone up in smoke, or only come from his agonizing pain. the messaging between ronald and henry is kinda awkward here, but i love how house synthesizes it by the end.

house indulges in some irrationality of his own in 2x14; clearly, henry's way of thinking has had at least some effect on him. when he appeals to the transplant committee and fails to preset adequate evidence for why henry deserves the heart, he goes on an uncharacteristic tirade about how the criteria they use to determine which lives are worth what. does he make excellent points? yes! does house believe in said points? absolutely not. his stance on abortion proves as much. but the rationale he gives for having made those points is fascinating: "i was advocating for my patient."

house bends over backwards advocating for henry in this episode, actually. he even takes a knee to the groin over it.

logic and physical pain reason that advocating for henry isn't worth it, and yet, house persists. and isn't there another dilemma that defies logic, that house can't seem to keep his nose out of?

house treats the impending demise of wilson's marriage with the same analytical lens that he does his patients, but with an undercurrent of emotional care that trumps logical reason. no matter how harsh he is, he's gonna advocate for the serial cheater who's brought all of this ruin unto himself, a lot like ronald brought this ruin onto himself.

departing from chronology for a second, i have to highlight another moment of stupidity on wilson's part. why would he appeal to house like this?

"does it occur to you that maybe...a friend might value concern over glibness? that maybe i'm going through something that i need to have an actual conversation about?"

girl. shut the hell up. you've been saying for the last 36 episodes that house (and the show at large tbh) is about actions over words. of course house isn't going to talk you through this. house's resulting expression says exactly what we're all feeling:

not to fret: we're reminded, yet again, of actions over words when wilson shows up uninvited at house's place, bags packed, and house invites him in. he doesn't even make a "glib" comment about how he was right all along, that the marriage was on its way out. very "do i wanna know" cover by hozier of them.

i'd even argue that this is a callback to henry's earlier declaration that we shouldn't be afraid to be stupid. wilson does look dumb and naive standing in the doorway, dumber still for having the gall to be sad over a relationship that failed mostly by his hand. but there's always a soft place to fall; he knows that.

now for the real meat of my thoughts on this episode:

the deeper i get into this rewatch, the more i am enthralled with how wilson conceptualizes relationships because it is so limited. as i've said before, everything is transactional to wilson, and he anticipates that everyone around him expects him to give A so that he can yield B. in his marriages, his A is formulaically fulfilling emotional neediness; their B is sex. it sure sounds like i'm characterizing a deranged sociopath!

so why is he so insistent that there's a chance that not everything has to be about sex, and why is he so sad that 2x14 argues for the opposite? i think that wilson wants so badly to break the mold he's cast for himself (sorta sex-crazed), and the idea that he, the king of loving neediness away, wasn't enough to satisfy julie really messes him up.

house is even shocked to hear that julie was the one who decidedly cheated on him. i can't handle this expression:

they're intentional about using the word "affair," an arrangement that wilson treats as a personal failure. wilson is not angry here. he's disappointed in himself.

walk with me here lol. henry's first (incorrect) diagnosis is testicular cancer. it's meant as a joke, but it's not for nothing that henry is so horrified over the specter of male sexual dysfunction in an episode that wants us to believe that sex trumps rationality and impulse control. in henry's eyes, if he can't provide sex, then what can he offer his ex wife? how can they continue their relationship?

if wilson can't offer sex to julie, then how can they continue their relationship? in his mind, where everything is sex, not neglect, emotional distance, or anything else, no sex = no relationship. wilson has ceased to be functional.

henry gains his sexual function back via an organ that's poisoned against him. he didn't get an STD through irresponsible sex/irrationality, but he inherited it. the heart is the symbolic center for love (thanks, HH/WH), and in 2x14, the heart wins out over the head time and time again re: sex trumps all. thus, we can explain wilson's sexual dysfunction along similar lines, sans the STD. wilson has "failed" his sexual obligations to julie because heterosexuality is unnatural. he inherited it via social expectations. the heart that wilson has is poisoned against him.

case and point - once henry is rehabilitated, his heart will work and he can resume his relationship with his ex wife. wilson's version of rehabilitation is showing up at house's door, away from social expectations and, if you'd indulge me, heteronormativity. house and wilson's domesticity is one of house md's longest standing devices, after all.

this is also why 8x09 is so special to me. wilson is so desperate to understand love in the absence of (heterosexual) sex. it's pathological.

don't even get me started on how wilson can't get it up when he's drunk in later seasons. i'll cross that bridge come season 4.

[mandarinmoons]

dad!spencer

DAD SPENCER SPENCER AS DAD

yknow that scene where JJ calls Will and Henry over the phone so she can read to Henry? or atleast I think she read to him it was so long ago that I watched 😭 anyway, what about that with Spencer and a toddler Bailey? he’s on a case but he still wants to make sure he’s present for his daughter even if he’s not physically there

<333

Your ears rang as Bailey’s cries echoed through the house. She had been fussy and inconsolable for days and you knew why, her dad was gone.

Spencer flew out to a case all the way in Nebraska leaving you to take care of Bailey all by yourself until he got back. You weren’t cross with him, you knew his schedule was hectic and that he tried his best to be a part of both of your lives.

For Bailey however it was a different story. The second her dad walked out the door she was upset and ran to the door to run after him. The only way she would fall asleep is by draping one of Spencer’s shirts over her, her breathing would calm down and a moment later she would be at ease.

It had been four days since Spencer left and there had only been limited text messages between you two. The case turned out to be more complicated than initially thought and it was taking up more of the team’s time.

You and Bailey were cuddling on the couch watching one of her favorite cartoons. Bailey had a crying fit and after some time she managed to calm down a bit and now here you were, caressing her back as her tear filled eyes were focused on the TV in front of her.

As you felt yourself doze off and your head leaned to the side, your phone rang which caused Bailey to get fuzzy.

“Shh there there,” you sat up and pulled Bailey into your lap as you dug your phone out of your pocket, seeing it was Spencer calling you sighed in relief and immediately put it on speaker.

“Hey Agent Daddy,” hearing your words made Spencer chuckle and Bailey’s eyes went big as she heard the laughter.

“Hey you two, how are my favorite girls doing?”

“We’re doing okay, Bailey misses you a lot.”

“She does?” Bailey immediately made grabby hands at the phone.

“C’mon, say hi to daddy.”

Bailey got the phone in her hands and chanted “daddy, daddy, daddy!” in an excited voice.

“Hi baby, do you miss me?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, daddy will be home soon, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Spence, do you think you could sing to her a bit?”

“Yes yes, daddy sing!”

Both you and Spencer laughed as Bailey grew excited over hearing her dad sing to her.

As Spencer sang along to the lullaby he recited to Bailey every night before bed, she nuzzled into your chest as her cheek was squished against you, her eyes fluttering shut as she relaxed.

You pried the phone from her hands gently and took it off from speaker mode, pressed it to your ear and quietly spoke as to not wake up your daughter.

“She’s finally asleep.”

“Has she really not slept these past few days?”

“Well only when she tires herself out from crying.”

Spencer chuckled lightly, “I feel bad now.”

“Hey it’s okay. You’ll be home soon so she’ll feel better in no time.”

“I hope so.”

Silence took over the line for a moment and you could hear Spencer trying to cover up a yawn, he was dead tired but still managed to make time to call you.

“You should go to sleep, I don’t want to keep you up for too long. You still have a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah,” Spencer yawned and rubbed his eyes as he looked at the time, 8:47 PM in the evening and yet it felt like it was 1 AM for him.

“Be safe, yeah? Think about how happy Bailey will be once you get home.”

Spencer smiled as he thought about his little girl running into his arms as soon as he walked through the front door.

“Give her a kiss from me please.”

“I will, good night.”

“Good night.”

As the call ended you looked down at Bailey and watched her sleep peacefully in your arms. Her hand was gripping your shirt and you chuckled as you remembered what you wore, the same shirt of Spencer’s that you draped on her as she slept.

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Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[clipthewings]

March 3rd - 9th, 2025

Monday, March 3rd - Kryptonian Folklore // Malevolent God

Tuesday, March 4th - Metropolis in the Dark // Truth & Justice

Wednesday, March 5th - Earth 3 // Replaced

Thursday, March 6th - Nonconsensual Body Modification // Mistaken Identity

Friday, March 7th - Elseworld // The Phantom Zone

Saturday, March 8th - Mothers & Fathers // Sons & Daughters

Sunday, March 9th - Sacrifice // Liberation

Hi everyone! Happy to announce that there will be a second run of Superfam Horror Week. Last year, we had 10+ unique fanworks prepared for the fanevent. We hope to see y'all again in March for another round of spooky, Superfam goodness!! ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

EDIT: The collection on AO3 for 2025 Superfam Horror Week is now live! Feel free to add your works. :D

Some housekeeping items hehe

Purpose?

More horror-themed fanworks for the Soupeyfam! Please note that Horror is a VERY BIG GENRE with multiple subgenres that can also crossover with other big genres! All this to say, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO INCORPORATE ROMANCE, COMEDY, ETC. TO YOUR HEART'S CONTENT!!! Just make sure it also scares the shit outta people :'> Happy endings (and beginnings) are also welcome!

Why should we participate in this?

Because you want to read and see fanworks that are not entirely approved by the Comics Code Authority. This event encourages NSFW fanworks and exploration of Superfam characters' worst, most awful days.

So how does it work?

The release date for fanworks is from Monday, the 3rd of March through Sunday, the 9th of March, 2025. You have three months to prepare your fanworks! :3

This an opportunity for people who’d like to explore the Superfamily characters, dynamics, and relationships through a variety of prompts. Romantic ships are allowed, as well as dynamics with a sexual element that are not necessarily romantic, provided that the Superfam are the focus of your work.

Superfamily characters include, but are not limited to:

Clark Kent

Lois Lane

Kara Zor El

Jonathan and Martha Kent

Jon Kent

Osul Ra and Otho Ra

John Henry Irons

Natasha Irons

Kon El/Conner Kent

Chris Kent/Lor Zod

Karen Starr

Kong Kenan

Mon El

Superfamily characters of ANY comic book universe are acceptable. This includes Elseword variants, multiversal variants, and Superboy-Prime. If you want to spend the entire fanweek exploring Ultraman and Injustice!Superman because you love drama, then be my guest! If you want Ultraman to finally kidnap Lois, go for it!! Let that imagination run WILD!!!

What can I create?

Any and all content warnings are allowed, just make sure that you post any Mature content on a landing page that doesn't restrict Mature content (like AO3). I don’t want anyone getting their blog banned. We cannot defeat our capitalist overlords, but we can definitely work around them.

This fanweek will not have a dedicated blog because I am lazy. These prompts are free for anyone to use. Because it is a non-traditional, non-monetized, and free-to-opt-in casual event, there will be no mods but moi, no advertising of paid services, and no ratings or participant restrictions. I will open a collection on AO3 in March for anyone who wants their work collated for this event.

In order to ensure that both creators and the audience are making informed decisions about what they engage with, all creators are encouraged to include triggers, ships, and any other squick warnings. 

Fanart (standalones, comic strips, etc.), fanfiction (one-shots, multichapter, etc.), fanmixes, gifsets, graphics, meme collections, and fanvids are all allowed! Go wild!!!

Please utilize the read-more function for fanworks that are longer than 250 words. We're tryna read yer stories, not get spammed with a wall of text. Please Be Courteous.

And last but not least - if you are engaging with any of the fanworks, reblog, reblog, reblog! Share the work with your followers. Send all the love to the creators for crafting their masterpieces!!

What does (X) prompt mean?

Each day has two prompts!! You can either pick a prompt OR you can combine prompts in different ways. Let your imagination take you where you want to go with each prompt!! If you want to explore both in the same fanwork, then be my guest!! Creativity is key! Have fun!!!

Can I crackship/multiship/harem/OT3/polyam/rape the characters?

Absolutely!!! Just please remember that this is the Soupeyfam horror week, not the Batfam horror week. We love ships and non-ships alike, but this week is about the Superfamily being put in horrific situations, not a way for you to stealthily write your big name ships for a whole week. That's for a shipweek, which this is not.

Does this have a tag?

During release week, use the general “superfam” or "superfamily" tags to share your work with the wider Superfam fandom on tunglr. You can use whatever other tags you fancy. The best way to share, however, is to directly @ me so that I may reblog it. Please also share your AO3 links via DM so that I may include it in the collection on AO3.

I didn’t read a damn thing before this, Ava.

TL;DR: Three months until the fanweek!!! Now’s the time to start thinking about what prompts you want to utilize for your creations. There are no creative restrictions, but I do ask that you follow these posting tips:

All fanfiction should be under a read-more.  

NSFW fanwork should be LINKED to whatever landing site the content is being hosted on (Twitter, AO3, Bluesky). This includes both fanfiction and fanart. I don’t want your blog getting flagged bc tunglr hates gay people.

Provide content warnings for all triggers, squicks, and sub-genres.  If you feel uncomfortable sharing directly on your blog, you can post to AO3 anonymously and send me your link via DM to add to the collection on AO3.

You can participate as much as you want!! Maybe you only wanna create for one day? Cool! Maybe you’re an overachieving corporate clown like myself, and wanna create for every day of the week? Go for it!!! 

The most important thing is to have fun :)

If you enjoy deliciously dark fiction featuring our favorite DC clan, please come join us (me and my cat)! I would love to read your 10k character study of Jon's recent body modification and Kara's trip in space with a World Destroyer.

We’re three months away from release week, so take your time, look through the prompts, and get your creative juices flowing! I will be sending out reminders until the go-live date.

If you come across any Puriteens, censorship specialists, and crybabies who don't like anything that's not Rated G, please block as you go. Fandom is still in dire straits with puritanical behavior in every sub-pocket of comics fandom, so please block, block, and block some more! If a fancop gets on your ass, just link them to will.i.am & Britney Spears' MIND YOUR BUSINESS.

For the sixty-three people who showed interest during the initial interest check, I hope you're able to participate. To the ten people who hate me, your mom's a hoe. Thank you.

[superbabetotherescue]

(18+) Celebrations (Part 2)

Jimmy Olsen x f!Reader x Clark Kent

Part 1

Word Count: ~9,924

Summary: Clark and Jimmy both find you baffling. They also both think you're a pretty hot piece. You plan to take Lois out to dinner for her birthday, and you also get closer with Jimmy.

Warnings: It’s probably bad idk, nsfw, a lot of weed smoking, mentions of alcohol, SMUT, oral (m! & f! receiving), unprotected piv, (pretend that you and jimmy were both recently sti tested & also you're on birth control bc it is never discussed in story), some jimmy favoritism (sorry), sort of dom!jimmy, dirty talk, jimmy is so horny for you all the time, the laziest scenario ever to set up Superman saving you, NOT proofread we die like henry cavill superman, i switch tenses a lot bc i just don't care, everyone is bisexual, clark is kind of a himbo, a lot of swearing, i feel like i'm forgetting something but this is all I can think of

Story Notes: Reader is a web designer for the Daily Planet (idk if they need one of those but shhh), who has befriended Clark, Jimmy, and Lois. All the events of the movie have (pretty much) happened. Clark and Lois dated and are broken up but it's cool. Reader is also very touchy (not in a sensitive way, in a "probably an inappropriate amount of physical contact with coworkers" way). Read the first chapter idk it sets it up.

A/N: Sorry I don't really think this is that good but I feel a little more confident in it than the first chapter. (I do actually think the sex scene is pretty decent but more in a "this sex scene that's entirely catered to me is kinda hot" way than in a "well written" way). It is longer than I meant to make it and less happens than I meant to have happen. Also I've been watching a show with Jimmy's actor (skyler gisondo i love you) so I think that's why this one is basically just a Jimmy fic lol but the next one will have more Clark. Also I really like the idea of just a super casually dom Jimmy where it's just kind of like a "well he's good at everything and just kinda vibes so I guess this is happening" type of thing. So that's kinda what I was going for there. This story is dedicated to Lois Lane bc her birthday is on Sunday (happy birthday Lois sorry you're barely in this). As always, comments (even just in the tags) are always ultra appreciated!!!!! Like seriously please talk to me. I need people to talk to me so bad I love it so much please and thank you. Thanks for reading <3

When Jimmy wakes up, looks around, it takes him a minute to remember where he is. He’s surprised to feel his fingers tangled with Clark’s, and surprised to remember that they had done that before they fell asleep. The black haired man has his head tipped all the way back, and he’s tall enough that his spine is bending in a way that must be uncomfortable, but he’s passed out, glasses still on his face. Jimmy can hear you in the kitchen, bustling around and maybe humming to yourself, although it’s hard to tell for sure over the pounding in his head. His mouth is dry, too, but then he notices that the end table next to him has glass of water and two ibuprofen sitting on it. He takes them gratefully and drinks the whole glass in a couple gulps. For a moment, he wishes that you were still asleep on the couch, remembers the feeling of you halfway on his lap and how comfortable, how good that was. Until he realizes, mortifyingly, that he has morning wood. ”Fuck,” He hisses to himself, pulling his hand away from Clark’s. He says it again when taller man stirs at this, Clark’s blue eyes blinking open. The first thing he does is straighten up and bring his hands to his face, touching his glasses and letting out a sigh of relief. Then he turns to Jimmy, brows slightly furrowed and voice still groggy, “I forgot we fell asleep here.” Jimmy crosses one of his legs over the other and tries to breathe deeply, calm down, “Yeah, same.” Clark suddenly gives him an odd, almost embarrassed look, and Jimmy gets the distinct feeling that his friend knows about his little problem, although it’s covered and can’t be seen. Then Clark clears his throat, “You feeling okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Are you?”

A single dark curl falls into his eyes, and Jimmy has to stop himself from reaching out and moving it. Clark gets it himself, then nods, “I am. You want me to go, uh, check on her?” Jimmy wonders, not for the first time, if Clark can read minds. He doesn’t ask, just says, “Sure,” and watches Clark get up and make his way to the kitchen, although not before grabbing a cup of water that was on his own end table. Vaguely, Jimmy wishes that he was the first one to greet you. But the sound of your delighted “Good morning, pretty boy!” makes him happy even if it isn’t aimed at him, and the comforting familiarity of Clark’s voice as the two of you chitchat helps make him feel normal again. He takes the time to look around your apartment a little, observing it in the sober light of the morning while he waits for his body to cooperate with him. It’s cozy, blankets folded in baskets and bookshelves that are mostly covered in books, although one has a stack of board games on it. The place doesn’t have a ton of decorations, but there are a few posters on the walls, and little touches of you everywhere. He tries to take it all in, memorize it, on the off chance that he seriously fucks something up and never gets invited over again. The thought makes his heart clench in his chest, and instead he tries to imagine himself being here all the time, practically a staple, and that makes him feel a little better.

Finally, after what feels like a humiliating lifetime although he knows it was only a few minutes, he’s ready to join you in the kitchen. When he does, you’re standing on a rickety chair, on your tiptoes, Clark nearby with worry on his face, watching.

“Why are you doing that?” Jimmy asks, concern evident in his voice.

You spun around and almost fell. Jimmy and Clark both jolted forward and managed to grab you at the same time, their hands crowding around your hips to steady you, brushing each other’s fingers. Giggling, you spoke, “Hey there, handsome, good morning. Thanks for the assist. You guys are still my heroes.”

Jimmy ignored the fuzzy feeling that hearing you giggle gave him, and asked again, “Why are you doing that?”

”Oh, my big mixing bowl was on top of the cabinets, but I pushed it to the back on accident.”

He felt for a moment that both you and Clark were very stupid, and then felt bad for thinking that because he knew it wasn’t true. Sighing, he asked, “Why don’t you just have him lift you?”

You frowned, voice turning a little sulky, “Well, yeah, that’s obviously a much better idea.”

Clark looked taken aback for a moment before he nodded, “Yeah, that might make me a bit less nervous.”

Jimmy shook his head but stepped back, reluctantly taking his hands off your hips. Clark’s slid up to grip around your waist, and he lifted you off the chair and up. You giggled again, and Jimmy considered the fact that he normally found giggling somewhat irritating, but he didn’t when you did it. He wondered why that was, then thought that he probably knew why and decided not to think about it anymore. You grabbed the bowl, thanked Clark, and once your feet were back on the ground you turned to Jimmy and asked, “Bacon and eggs, pancakes, or both?”

“You don’t have to make me breakfast,” He assures you.

You scowled, and Clark spoke up, “I said the same thing, and she threatened to kneecap me.”

All three of you laughed at that, and Jimmy shrugged, “Okay, okay, I’d take some pancakes.” You insist on them sitting down and letting you cook, chatting as you do. Somehow the three of you always seem to click together, something Jimmy has noticed before but doesn’t think he’s ever fully appreciated. When the food is done you sit down with them, watching them eat their first bites of everything and smiling when they compliment it before you dig in yourself. The conversation lulls but the silent moments are always comfortable, and when you’re done eating you let them clear the table for you, but insist that you’ll do the dishes later.

“So,” You clap your hands together, excitement on your features, “Lois’s birthday is coming up. I think we should do something.”

Clark and Jimmy both nod, and Jimmy asked, “Have anything in mind?” “I was thinking a little lowkey. Take her to her favorite restaurant, the place has a really nice bar so we can hang out as long as she wants. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Definitely,” Clark looks thoughtful for a moment, “Day of?”

You shook your head, “It’s a Sunday, so maybe not. But I super subtly asked her about it, and she's free that Friday.”

“Can’t wait,” Jimmy smiles at you, and as much as he loves Lois he hopes you know what he’s really excited about-getting to spend more time with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy didn't have to wait until Lois's birthday dinner to spend time with you, though. At work, silently, you two had become even more attached at the hip. When it was time for meetings, he found that you were always seated between him and Clark. When you went to the break room for coffee or snacks, one of them was always trailing behind you. And, to Jimmy's greatest delight, every day you would drag a chair next to his desk and work on your laptop, neither of you acknowledging anything about it.

Everyone had been teasing you, even Perry had commented, telling you that you had a perfectly good desk to sit at. You always just shrugged, murmured something about him being like a psychic white noise machine, that his brainwaves somehow blocked yours from distraction. You would smirk, just a little, and add that you were the only one who never missed a deadline, and everyone would have to mutter in agreement.

No one entirely followed what you meant, but it made Jimmy feel good either way. He figured it was a bit like how he felt about Clark, someone who just took the edge off a situation. He found it a bit puzzling that you felt that way about him, but he would take what he could get. Neither of you had discussed what had happened the other night. Not the easy way you had fallen into rhythm at the club, moving naturally together in the environment like you had been doing it for years. And certainly not the way that you two had kissed in your apartment, hands greedy to touch each other, bodies almost magnetized. You had just pulled the chair up next to him on Monday, shaking your head when he had opened his mouth to question you, and that had been that. Jimmy had held onto some of the confidence from that night, touched you more freely now. It wasn’t just you affectionately ruffling his hair or slinging your arms around his shoulders now. Now Jimmy touched you too, his hands on you whenever he could get away with it. Pressed to the small of your back when you were walking out of meetings, ghosting over your hips to shift you when you were in his way in the break room, resting on your thigh or wrist when you two were just at his desk, working. Once, when you were too distracted with your work to pay attention to what he was trying to ask you, he had unthinkingly reached out and loosely gripped your jaw, turning you to face him. Your eyes had blown wide, although whether it was just with surprise or something more he wasn’t sure. He’d pulled away his hand quickly when he realized what he’d done, but you hadn’t even commented, just finally answered when he repeated the question. Jimmy had cleared his throat, glanced away, and made awkward eye contact with Clark, who had clearly been watching the whole exchange. In fact, Clark was the one who Jimmy caught staring the most of anyone. Everyone else seemed to mostly lose interest after a day or two, still teasing but not really bothering to pay attention to how you stuck to each other now. But Clark was always sheepishly looking away from you, although he never teased, just observed. Jimmy wondered, vaguely, if Clark was jealous, but it didn’t necessarily seem like that was it. For one thing, your behavior towards Clark hasn’t actually changed at all. Sure, you work next to Jimmy now, but you still talk to Clark just like you did before, still hug and nudge the way you did before, and when you’re not with Jimmy, Clark is the next person you’re around the most. And anyway, his expression doesn’t exactly portray jealousy, Jimmy thinks. It’s hard to tell, Clark keeps his face infuriatingly neutral, but although Jimmy can identify some kind of longing in his eyes, there doesn’t seem to be any real envy there. Jimmy still feels envy swell up in his chest sometimes, choke its way up his throat when he watches you talk to other people. He knows it’s unfair to feel jealous, knows he has no real reason to. It annoys him more than anything, because he’s never really felt jealous like this before. But he finds that the feeling rears its ugly head far more often than he’d like, and for some reason only soothes itself when Clark makes eye contact with him, usually granting him a quick half smile. He’s not sure why Clark of all people has the ability to cool that flame inside him, but Jimmy doesn’t intend to self reflect too deeply. Jealousy or no jealousy, you and Clark are certainly his best friends, and whatever weirdness there is to the dynamic that you three have isn’t really worth the time it would take to muse over it.

He tries to avoid thinking about his feelings for you, in general. The way you dance around his mind, playing his emotions like a piano. The way you make his chest swell with something he's not sure he's ever really felt. The idea of romance beyond its most casual gives him pause, a fear that he doesn't want to admit to and doesn't appreciate feeling. Not to mention the other feelings he has about you, the desire to have you in his arms again, pressed against his body again. It's embarrassing how much you affect him in this way, ridiculous how easy you have him drooling over you. He wears looser, darker pants than he did before, and lets that be that.

Even if it’s not all the way what he wants, Jimmy is happy, and he’s not interested in pushing his luck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the Thursday before Lois’s birthday, you reluctantly let Jimmy take you out to lunch. Normally you bring your own food, eating while you work through lunch and scoffing “We can’t all be rich,” when someone says you should just get takeout with them. But you overslept that morning, ran late, forgot your wallet, and showed up to work barely on time, already grumbling. When Jimmy first offers, you turn him down. “I’m not some charity case,” You don’t even bother to look up from your laptop, “I’ll survive.” “But you won’t thrive,” He argues, and smiles to himself when he sees you suppress a laugh. “Jimmy, please. I’m trying to focus.”

He doesn’t really know what you’re so worried about. You’re editing some fluff piece for the website that he knows isn’t even going up until next week, and you’ve got everything you can do for this week finished up. Still, you’re locked in like this is the thing that’ll make or break your career, even though you were just telling him you could probably slap it online with nothing done to it. He doesn’t point that out, just says, “You’ll focus better if you eat something.”

“I’ve had four cups of coffee,” You snapped, gesturing to the empty mug on his desk, “My focus will be fine if you leave me alone.” Clark speaks up from his desk, “You can’t just replace food with coffee.”

Your right hand keeps typing while your left flips him off, your eyes narrowed in frustration at your screen although your voice is sing-song, “Stay out of this, Kent.” He wheels over to Jimmy’s desk, not looking at all put out by you, just chuckling quietly, “See? You’re grumpy. You need food.”

You finally look up at that, clearly offended, “I am not grumpy.” Lois scoffs from her desk but doesn’t say anything. Clark just looks at you patiently, but Jimmy shakes his head, “You so clearly are. Come on, let me get you something. You really need to eat.” Your voice was more venomous than he could remember ever hearing it, “What I need is for everyone to leave me alone and do their jobs so that I can do mine!”

You clearly said it louder than you meant to as everyone stopped and turned to look at you. You froze, blinked very slowly like you were processing your words yourself, and then you spoke again, meekly this time, “Okay, maybe I’m a little grumpy.” The rest of the office turned back to their own work, a few snickers floating through the air. Jimmy wondered if it was wrong of him to find your embarrassment so endearing, so adorable, and he rubbed your shoulder soothingly, “I’ll take you to that deli you like. Bagel sandwiches?” Grumbling a little to yourself, you fussed with the charger on your laptop. You stayed steadfastly looking down until Clark spoke again, his voice reassuring, “I promise that everyone will survive an hour while you go eat. Your work will still be here. I’ll even bug Steve about that article you want from him so that you don’t have to.”

You finally looked up again, your expression soft in spite of your exasperated tone, “You guys aren’t going to leave me alone unless I go, are you?”

Jimmy shook his head, holding back a smirk, “Not a chance.”

“I’m paying you back later,” Your voice was stern.

“We’ll see,” Jimmy flashed you a grin, already standing.

“I am!” You frowned, shook your head, “We shouldn’t take a whole hour. I don’t want to waste time.”

“Eating isn’t a waste of time,” Clark said instantly, not looking at all bothered by the scathing look you gave him. He just wheeled his way back to his desk, smiling, “Enjoy, you two.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trip to the deli is uneventful, and you scowl most of the way there. Jimmy knows by now not to take it personally, just laughs and teases and chatters away, grinning to himself when he sees your lips twitch and knows you’re holding back from smiling. You wouldn’t admit it, but the instant you start eating your mood corrects itself. Truth be told, your mood had already started to improve when Jimmy ignored the girl at the counter’s obvious attempts to flirt with him. That made you happy enough that you agreed to take the food and go sit in a nearby park to eat, taking in the sunlight. The sandwich just got you the rest of the way there, so that by the time you’re eating the cookie that he insisted on buying you, you’re nothing but smiles. “Thank you,” You tell him sincerely as you two throw your trash away, “I needed the food, and I needed the break, too.”

“Anytime,” He has a shit eating grin on his face, “You should really listen to me more.” “I don’t know about that,” You give him a look, “But I do appreciate it.” He’s walking so close to you that the backs of your hands keep brushing against each other. You suppress your desire to just reach out and hold his, not knowing that he’s resisting the same temptation. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, and then clamps it shut when a tremor shakes the earth, almost knocking you both down. You don’t know where the creature came from. It’s too big to have walked up without you noticing, but you’re not sure how it just appeared.

Right now, though, that doesn’t matter. What matters is the giant, vaguely humanoid, tall as a sky scraper, alien…that is right next to you. You hold your breath as you look, smacking Jimmy’s arm when you see that telltale flash of blue and red, and ask him, “Did you bring your camera?” He already has it out, aiming at Superman just in time to get a beautiful action shot of the creature getting punched in the face. You scramble to grab the tape recorder that you always carry, making notes for yourself about the exact time, location, what’s going on, and describing your thoughts on how to format the inevitable post this would get on the Daily Planet’s website. Jimmy snaps a few more pictures as the Justice Gang arrives, and you make note on your recorder that Green Lantern doesn’t seem to be there. You both turn to each other, grinning at the first hand view of an impending article, when suddenly the sky above you darkens. You both glance up and see the foot that’s about to step directly on you two. You grab Jimmy’s hand before you can help yourself, and the two of you start to run even as you realize that it’s a fruitless effort. The limb coming down on you is simply too big for you to avoid, and you feel tears start to well in your eyes as you look at Jimmy, the same realization clearly dawning on his face.

And then a strong arm wraps around you, and you’re flying through the air.

You had clenched your eyes shut instinctively, cringing as you waited for impact, but the air rushing through your hair made you open them again. Realizing that you were safe was an instant flood of relief. Realizing that you were in Superman’s arms, pressed against Jimmy, almost made you cheer in excitement.

Before you’ve fully made sense of what’s happening, you’re standing on the roof of the Daily Planet.

“Don’t you need to like, get back over there?” Jimmy asks, and you feel another rush of relief at the sound of his voice. Superman shakes his head, “They’ve got it handled. Are you okay?”

Jimmy nods, starts to answer, and then silences himself as you throw your arms around both him and Superman. Your breathing is heavy, ragged, and he thinks you might be crying, but your face is buried in Superman’s chest. When you pull back, you wipe your face and grin, “Is there any way we can get an interview, Mr. Superman?” Superman looks completely baffled for a moment, then shakes his head, “You don’t have to say the mister part. Now listen, you two ought to be more careful.”

Your hands were fidgeting with your tape recorder. “Thank you,” Jimmy’s breathing was a little shaky, but he reached out to put his own hand on top of one of yours, “We’re okay, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” You looked embarrassed suddenly, “I meant to say thank you too. Thank you and can we get an interview?”

Your heart pounded with pride when Superman laughed, even if you weren’t trying to be funny.

Then he got serious, “You almost died.”

You squeezed Jimmy’s hand a little tighter, “But we didn’t. Thanks to you. And really, thank you. I would do anything to repay you.” “That’s not necessary,” He looked uncertainly between you and Jimmy for a moment, then shook his head again, “No interviews today. Try again when you haven’t just risked your life for your job.”

Jimmy notices the way your adrenaline seems to be coming down, the somewhat sobered look on your face. Then, laughing a little, you said, “Well fuck it. If I’m not getting an interview, I’m not going back to work today. They can see me tomorrow.” Superman looks a little surprised, “Do you…want me to take you somewhere else?”

You can actually see your building from this height, and you point it out to him.

Jimmy feels surprised too. He can’t remember you taking a day off at all since you’ve worked there, except when you’d come in with the flu and Perry had made you take off the rest of the week. You still did most of your work that week, just from home, and you later told Jimmy that you had brought a chair into the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to stop working everytime you threw up. He frowns, “You don’t even want your laptop? Anything from your desk?”

“No,” You answered immediately, and although even you sounded surprised by yourself there was a certainty in your voice. Then you hesitated for a second, eyes dropping to your entangled hands as you asked gently, “Do you, uh, would you want to come with me?”

Jimmy reeled for a moment. Stupidly, he found himself looking at Superman like he would be able to answer. Then Jimmy reeled some more, because Superman actually made eye contact with him and gave a little ‘well, why not?’ shrug. Jimmy felt himself regain the confidence to speak, shocked by how comforted he was by Superman on this of all things, and he turned back to you, “Of course.” You smiled, then turned back to the hero. "Do you mind?" You asked, almost shyly, but Jimmy knew you well enough to know that that timidity was only playing. You looked overwhelmed and exhausted, sure, the reality of what had just happened was definitely hitting you, but that particular emotion was not one that you were feeling.

Jimmy wonders if this bit of play-acting was part of your master plan to seduce Superman, or just a game that you were drifting towards to distract yourself. Your hand was resting on the hero's wrist, as if he wouldn't have realized who you were talking to. You had a teasing, almost coquettish, glint in your eye, and Jimmy realized with dim concern that he was getting an erection, which he steadfastly ignored.

To your credit, Superman cleared his throat, a little awkwardly sure, but Jimmy recognized the look in his eyes. He'd seen a lot of people look at you like that. Hell, he looked at you like that. Superman was totally into you. Jimmy almost wants to give you a thumbs up, but he holds back the urge. The hero doesn't move his arm from where you touch it, "Of course, miss. Anything that you need."

"Anything?" Your voice is somewhere between playful and sultry, and then you shake your head a little, the reality of the situation seeming to hit you again, "I mean, thank you."

He doesn't speak again while he takes you both into his arms and flies you to the roof of your apartment building. Jimmy can't help but cling to him a little tighter than is strictly necessary, which he hopes the hero doesn't notice. You are definitely clinging tighter than necessary, but Jimmy's pretty sure you don't have any of his qualms about it.

When your feet are planted firmly on the not-ground, Superman finally speaks again, "Will you be more careful next time? Please?"

You and Jimmy exchanged almost guilty looks, you half nodded, "I mean, we’ll try."

Superman, exasperated, shook his head. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then seemed to change his mind, drawing in on himself for a moment before rolling his shoulders back and straightening up. Instead, he smiled just a little, "Trying is better than nothing, I guess. Please, go rest. You've had a traumatic day."

This time you did nod diligently, "We will. It was really cool to meet you."

Jimmy doesn't laugh at you for saying that because he understands the feeling, but the urge hits him all the same and he finds himself making eye contact with Superman again, grinning. Superman gives a smile that looks like he's laughing a little too, but then he turns to you with a more genuine one, "It was really cool to save you. And it's always good to see Olsen, even if he's being reckless."

You turned and gave Jimmy an incredibly impressed look, and he feels something like pride flood through his veins. He waits until you turn around to give Superman a thumbs up, then replies, "It's always good to see you too."

The two of you make your way inside then, down to your apartment. Neither of you know that Superman lingers on the roof, debating with himself about what he should do for longer than he'd like to admit, before he sighs and heads back to work.

You sighed in relief when you got to your door, ushering Jimmy inside and immediately getting both of you glasses of water. You set yours down on the coffee table and started to walk to your bedroom.

“I’ve got some sweats that should fit you, if you want to change,” You offer.

“I’m okay for now.”

“I’ll get them out just in case you change your mind. I would love to be in my pajamas, personally,” You paused, looked back at him, “That’s cool, right?”

“Of course,” Jimmy makes his way to your couch, “It’s your place. You can do whatever you want.”

“Good. Do you think you could call Perry? Let him know we’re out?” You drummed your fingers on your bedroom door frame.

He pulled out his phone, “You got it.”

“And text Clark and Lois, let them know we’re all good?” You smiled at him before shutting your bedroom door, yelling through it, “All I want to do right now is changes clothes and get exorbitantly high.” There was silence for a moment. Then, the door cracked open, just your face peeking out at him. You smiled nervously, “And Jimmy? Thanks for coming over.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy thought that he might be at a point that could be described as exorbitantly high. The two of you had been smoking for the better part of two hours. He wasn't sure where you would chart yourself on the highness scale, but Jimmy didn't smoke very often, and he was definitely fucking up there.

The two of you were chatty in spurts, but spent a fair amount of time just sitting and listening to the music that you had put on before you sat down.

You were practically in his lap. Jimmy had sat on one end of the couch to give you the choice on whether to sit close to him or not, and then mentally scolded himself for even caring about such a thing. But he needn't have worried, because when you came out, you had come over and nudged him towards the middle seat. Then you sat in the space between him and the arm, bare legs splayed across his lap, and while you had said something about wanting to be able to lean back against the arm, you also kept tucking your head in towards his chest. Between that and the pajama set you were wearing, shorts and a tank top that showed a lot of skin and looked unfairly good on you, he found himself occasionally holding his breath to keep his mind occupied by something else.

But the more you smoked, the less he cared, and the more he was willing to let some of his feelings slip to the forefront of his mind.

"We almost died today," You said it suddenly, but it had been the undercurrent of every conversation you two had.

He hummed, arm slung around your shoulder, holding you close while you fiddled with your grinder, "We didn't die. We wouldn't have, not with him there."

"What if he wasn't there?" Your voice sounded small in a way that Jimmy had never heard it.

He doesn't dwell on your question, hardly even considers it, and says instead, "I think he totally liked you."

You knew, of course, that he was just trying to distract you, but your lips twitched with a smile anyway, "Yeah? How would you know?"

"Because we're so close, obviously," He has a smug expression, "You heard him. He's always happy to see me."

"Which one of us do you think will land him first?"

"Oh me, for sure, because we're already such good friends," He keeps his voice casual, like it's obvious, but both of you are holding back laughter now, "But I'll give you a good recommendation when we're done, and you can have my sloppy seconds."

You smack him lightly on the chest, "You cannot call Superman your sloppy seconds. Even if he was you couldn't call him that."

Jimmy shrugs, and the two of you hold eye contact for a moment before you both burst out in giggles. When they subside, you’re looking at him with an intensity that honestly scares him a little, and he quickly works his fuzzy mind in overtime to come up with something to say. What comes out is, “So, how would you fuck Superman?”

“What?” You look at him like he’s crazy, and he considers that he might be. Then you raise an eyebrow, “Can you elaborate on that?”

For a moment, he considers backtracking. Then he decides that’s not worth it and speaks, “I mean like, how are you doing it? Are you telling him what to do or are you letting him take the reigns? What position? That kind of thing.” “Well what’s your answer?” You asked, and he looks for embarrassment on your face but there isn’t any, just curiosity and a distinct layer of stonedness.

“I’m more of a go with the flow kind of guy. I’d do whichever it seemed like he wanted. But you seem like you’ve maybe thought about it a little more than me.” You still don’t look embarrassed per se, but your eyes drop to your hands, “I mean, not a lot, you know.”

“Oh come on,” Jimmy reaches out to lift your chin, and when you’re looking at him again he gives you a teasing smile, “What, do you not wanna tell me how bossy you are in bed? I’m sure that won’t scare him off, you know he does anything for the people.” Now you actually are starting to look embarrassed, skin burning under his fingers which are still resting lightly against your chin, and your laugh doesn’t quite match the look in your eyes, “I mean yeah, I agree he does anything for the people, but I am not bossy in bed!"

He swallows, tries to keep himself from sounding too serious, "You sure about that? Because you're one of the bossiest people I know."

You try to smack his chest, but he just blocks it, grabbing onto your wrist. Then you huff, your voice exasperated but playful, "Yeah, no shit. Which is exactly why I don't like making decisions in the bedroom. I want that shit out of my hands."

"Out of your hands?" He laughs, and you both pretend that there's not something more real that's sneaking into your voices.

"Yeah, out of my hands. I spend all my time deciding how things should be done. I like it when someone takes all that off my back, y'know? Moves me how they want me, has me say what they want me to say, tells me when to...y'know, finish, or not finish, or whatever," You swallow hard, suddenly conscious of the fact that one of his hands is still tilting your chin up, the other still wrapped around your wrist, and you do everything you can not to lean into his touch, "None of this matters, though, because if I was fucking Superman I wouldn't tell him any of that."

"Communication is important," Jimmy's voice is husky, his eyes half lidded.

You try not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, suddenly wishing that you were still smoking so that you'd have something to break up the tension that's filling the air. You shrug, try to turn your head away, but he holds you fast, and you drop your gaze from his eyes to his mouth when you say, "It is. He's just not who I'd probably bother sharing all that with. If I've got that chance with Superman, talking is not going to be at the top of my priority list."

“Who would you share that with?” His eyes are inquisitive, although it doesn’t seem pointed at you. More like there’s a puzzle he’s trying to figure out as he speaks. “I don’t know. You, apparently. Normally I’d be more subtle about it.”

Jimmy nods, clears his throat, and then asks, "I know you probably don't want to make any decisions right now, since you're not at work and we're obviously celebrating life and whatever. But can you make one?"

You furrow your brows, looking up at him, "Sure?"

Now both of his hands are cupping your jaw, so gently, like he's ready to pull them away at any moment, "Can I kiss you?"

Your breath catches, but it’s like you can’t be bothered with nerves. You feel a certainty, deep in your gut, that this is meant to happen right now. And so you nod, respond softly, “Please do.” It’s a fantastic kiss, of course. The one other kiss you’d shared has played through your head since it happened, a fantasy that you’d had the urge to chase but had talked yourself out of. You liked Jimmy a lot, maybe too much, and you wouldn’t let the lust that ran through you every time you interacted with him control you enough to risk losing what you did have. But you’d be lying if you said that you would’ve been okay with dying without getting the chance to do more with him.

One hand shifts from your jaw to hold the back of your neck, his other arm snaking tenderly around your waist so that you straighten up, pull even closer to him than you already were. Your own hands clutch at his shirt. Even when you pull your lips away you don’t move your body, still clinging to him even as he looks at you with slightly worried eyes. You smile, giggle to yourself, and say, “You taste like weed.” He cracks a grin, “You do too.” You can feel something pressing against the back of your thigh, still strewn over his lap. Your smile widens, “I think your dick is hard.” Jimmy actually laughs this time, squeezing your hip, “You should really be an investigative journalist. Your brilliant talents are being wasted.”

“I would be amazing at it,” You feel somewhat sobered, but you’re still high enough that you’re already laughing at your own joke before you say it, “I definitely feel like I’m about to uncover something.”

The two of you sit there giggling for longer than the comment probably deserves. Jimmy’s fingers drum against your hip, and when you both stop laughing it’s like all the tension that had started to alleviate suddenly rushes back into the room. “Do you…” You swallow, avoiding his eyes, “Do you maybe want to move to the bedroom?”

Jimmy sounds genuinely surprised for some reason, “Do you want to?”

Suddenly unsure of yourself, you start to shift away, “I mean, we don’t have to. Obviously. I was just wondering.” “No, I do! I just didn’t know if you did,” He looks at you like you’ve suggested something brilliant, like he never would’ve imagined this. Then he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, soft and lingering, and asks, “I mean, do you really? Not just because we’re high?”

Actually, you hadn’t even really considered that you might want to do this just because you’re high. You are, and it does make you horny, but your feelings for Jimmy most certainly predate this, and you know that they’ll last for a lot longer than whatever the events of the rest of the day are. You don’t tell him that, because you don’t want to scare him off or make things weird or risk not having sex with him right now, which you really want to do. Instead you respond with a teasing lilt, “What happened to your confidence, Mr. Womanizer? What, you’re surprised you managed to pull someone so far outside your league?” He laughs. Kisses your forehead, quicker this time. His eyes betray an emotion that you’re not used to, and he genuinely looks unsure of himself in a way that you don’t know you’ve ever seen from him before. And then it’s gone, and he has the not quite cocky expression that you are used to, voice smooth and low, “Outside my league is where I do my best work. Let’s go to the bedroom and I’ll show you.”

Heart hammering, you stand up and offer him your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both lost a lot of clothing in the short walk to bed, unable to stop yourselves from grabbing at and kissing each other. Jimmy has at least managed to retain his boxers, but he has you stripped fully naked when he lays you down on the bed, pressing one last quick peck to your lips before he kisses slowly down your body, settling himself between your legs.

He brushes his lips over the supple skin of your thighs, bares his teeth at the junction between your leg and groin, whispers low and hot so close to you that you can feel his words vibrate through you, “You’re gonna let me eat this pretty pussy, right?”

“Fuck,” You barely hold back from clamping your thighs against his head, half groaning your words, “You can’t say stuff like that, dude.”

“Well, obviously I can,” He pulls back enough to raise an eyebrow at you, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “ What, are you trying to say you didn’t like it?”

You let out a whine but didn’t speak, and he turned his attention away from your face and back to your dripping folds, staring with rapt attention as he spoke again, “That’s what I thought, pretty girl. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Squirming under his intense gaze, you tried to hold back another whine as you spoke, “I didn’t picture you having a dirty mouth.”

You can actually almost feel him smiling even though his mouth isn’t on you, “You seemed nervous. And what you said earlier…I don’t mind taking charge, it means I get to see how cute your reactions are.”

“Would you stop looking?” You squirmed again, reaching forward to push his face away from you.

He caught your wrist, “If you really want me to. But I don’t think you do, I think you’re just not used to getting this much attention. Which is really a shame, by the way.”

“I didn’t picture you as the bossy type either, to be honest.”

He laughs, nothing but good humor behind the sound, “I don’t have to be. It just kind of happens. If you don’t like it-“

“No, no, it’s fine,” You admit, chewing on your lip, “I do like it. Obviously. I just get a little…”

“I told you, you don’t have to get embarrassed with me. And you don’t have to lie to me just because you’re embarrassed. I’ll give you whatever you want. And if you don’t feel like deciding, then I’ll just give you whatever I want.”

Your hips lurch upward almost imperceptibly, “Just, uh, just keep doing what you’re doing, I guess.”

He looks up at you again, this time with a full on teeth showing grin, “Great. So I can go down on you?”

You nod, but he doesn’t move. You try to maneuver your hand to push his head down, but he catches your wrist again, steady gaze never wavering. Finally you whine, “Oh for fuck’s…yes!”

“Yes what?” Jimmy has an eyebrow raised.

”Will you please just eat me out?” You snapped, your whole body heating.

“Well that’s all you had to say,” He grins, and then dives in.

Jimmy eats pussy like it’s his favorite hobby, voracious in some moments and other times slow and savoring. He doesn't bother holding you down, although you squirm, he’s content to rock his body along with yours and chase you with his sinful mouth.

You feel your climax approaching entirely too quickly, and it takes all of what little presence of mind you have to fend it off for the time being. Your fists clench in the sheets like a tether to reality, your teeth burying themselves in your lower lip as you try to hold yourself back from your impending release. Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice, easing one finger and then another into you without his puffy lips ever leaving your clit. His confidence seems to grow with every moan that escapes your lips, every thrash of your hips, and you could almost swear that he growls the word “Mine” at one point, but you write that off as wishful thinking. When you know that you can’t hold yourself back anymore, you push him away, gasping, “Jimmy, fuck, hold on, stop, fuck.” He pulls back with reluctance on his face and a hint of worry in his eyes, “Everything okay?”

You take three deep breaths before you nod, “Okay, just felt too good and I didn’t want to-Jimmy!”

He had buried his face between your legs again, lapping greedily at your pussy. When your hands tugged on his hair he pulled back enough to ask, “What? I’m just supposed to pretend that it ‘felt too good’? That’s not a real thing.”

He lowers his mouth to you again and you try in vain to push him off, finally desperately insisting, “I don’t want to cum until I’m on your cock!”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your whole body tensing with embarrassment. Jimmy's smile had turned wolfish, and he sat up a little and wiped your juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, "Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we?"

You watched in awe as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean. Before you could help yourself, you murmured, "That's kinda gross."

"You know I love a sweet treat," He snickered at the look on your face, then softened, "Do you want me to, uh, get to it?"

Biting your lip, you tried to let your confidence take back over, "I mean, I do, but I was hoping I could, well, y'know."

You mimed a dick in front of your mouth, and he laughed again. Then, shit-eating grin firmly planted on his face, he shook his head, "I'm not sure what you mean, sorry. Can you elaborate?"

"Jimmy," You huffed, sitting up as well, "You know what I mean!"

"No, I really don't," Jimmy mocked the pout on your face for a moment, "What's wrong? You work at a newspaper, shouldn't you be able to come up with the words?"

"Jimmy-"

"Use your words," His tone is more serious than you're used to, his eyes dark, and you barely resist a full body shiver.

You take a deep breath, roll your eyes at him, but you answer, "I want to suck your cock, and then I want you to fuck me."

The glee on his face is unrestrained, "Was that so hard? Wait, you want to suck my cock, but you called me gross for cleaning my fingers?"

"Will you please just shut up and let me do it?"

He mimes zipping his lips shut, eyes glittering with either excitement or amusement, although you aren't sure which. He lets you maneuver him to lay down where you just were, folding his arms behind his head as you tug his boxers down. His erection bobs up, and you almost shudder when you take the firm warmth of it into your hand, experimentally stroking a few times.

When you take him into your mouth, steeling yourself before lowering all the way down to the base, he lets out a low, drawn-out moan. You find yourself ridiculously pleased, and it makes up for any ping in your over-extended jaw.

Jimmy lets you take complete control. At first this leaves you feeling slight disappointment, but it doesn't seem to be for a lack of his enjoyment. In fact, he seems to be holding back from thrusting into your mouth, biting his swollen red lip and panting. One of his hands does come to rest on top of your head, but he doesn't use it to push you down or move you at all. It doesn't even really grab or hold, it just rests there, like a reassurance. It manages to override your desire to have him fuck your mouth, something about the gesture exciting and calming all at once. Little grunts roll off his tongue, and you feel like you could stay there for hours, but Jimmy only lets you go a few minutes before his hand does grip your hair, pulling you gently off of him.

"You're really good at that," His voice is casual, like he's talking about your typing speed or something and not fellatio.

"Thanks," You can't help but tease him, "I'm sure you'll get better at eating pussy."

You see the surprise hit his face, and then the way his jaw tightens in annoyance for a moment before he shakes his head at you, "You're something else. I'm tempted to get down there again and go until you can't remember your own name. But look at you, staring at me with your big ol' eyes, you just want my cock inside you, huh? So that'll have to wait for next time."

You try to hide the way his words impacted you, but can't help but smile at his mention of next time. Tugging at his arm, you have him sit up so that you can kiss him. Then you murmur against his lips, "Well, then let's do it."

Jimmy stands, gestures for you to position yourself at the edge of the bed, and he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead when you do. He pumps his cock as he stands over you, his eyes scanning your body like he's taking it in for the first time. His tip feels silky soft when he finally brushes it against your folds, lining up with your entrance, and he asks gently, "Are you sure about this?"

"Please," Your hips cant upwards, but he pulls back just a little. At the teasing raise of his eyebrow you sigh, "I want you inside me, Jimmy."

A quiet groan slips past his lips as he sinks inside you. There’s almost no resistance, and normally you’d probably be a little embarrassed at just how wet and ready you are, but you can’t find it in you to feel anything but pleasure. “I’ll do anything you want, I meant that,” His voice is ragged, and it’s obviously taking effort for him to keep the slow, measured pace that he’s using, “But I think that you needed this.” You keened, hips tilting off the bed, “Fuck, it’s really not fair when you say stuff like that.” Jimmy’s rhythm stutters for a moment, and he shakes his head, “What’s not fair is you squeezing me like that. I’m trying to be gentle, make sure you’re comfortable, and it’s like you’re trying to make me lose control.”

Pointedly, you wait a moment before purposefully clenching around him again. You see his teeth grit, a choked noise slipping through them anyway, and you ask innocently, “You mean like when I do that?”

He leans down, presses a kiss to your collarbone, and then bites directly below it, sucking for just a moment. When he pulls back, he’s looks at you questioningly for just a second, like he’s making sure that was okay, before he shakes his head again, “What, have you been neglecting this poor little pussy? Does it just need to get used?”

You nod before you even realize that you’re doing it, but once again he doesn’t give you time to be flustered. Flashing you a crooked smile, he repositioned slightly so that your legs splayed over his arms, letting him pull you even closer. He sped up, the smacking of your pelvises filling the room, your body jolting with every drag of his dick. Jimmy's hands gripped tightly onto your waist, his nails distant pinpricks into your skin. Your mind is clouded, and you know that all the weed probably has something to do with it, but mostly it's Jimmy. Jimmy, sweet silly Jimmy, who is pounding into you with the force of a desperate man, but is looking at you like you're the only person in the world.

Desperate to touch more of him, you reach up to grip his biceps. You've had sex before, even pretty good sex, but you've never felt this kind of unquenchable thirst, this need to have him touching you, filling you, pressed against you. You realize that you're fucked, literally and figuratively. Jimmy Olsen is definitely no longer a want, he himself is a need.

Suddenly he drops himself down so he’s on top of you. He pulls you up a bit, roughly, and hooks one arm underneath your neck, and then you are chest to chest, your face buried in his shoulder and his in your hair. You lock your legs behind his back, trying to keep him ever closer. You almost choked on the intimacy of it all. His thrusts never slowed, his cock pummeling your walls. You said something, but it was incoherent, basically babbling.

“What was that?” Jimmy chuckles just a little.

“Can- can I come?” You feel distinctly out of your mind, your skin practically on fire, unable to focus on or think about anything but the pleasure coursing through you, the pressure of Jimmy surrounding you. “Fuck, yeah,” There’s something feral in Jimmy’s voice, “Come all over your fucking cock.” You probably wouldn’t admit to it, but you couldn’t hold back a scream of his name. He was everything you could've thought to ask for, he was perfect, and your body had never felt this good before. Then it doesn't take long for Jimmy to finish, still buried deep inside of you. Your bodies both spasm against each other, and soon you're both twitching with overstimulation, but you take a minute before you unwrap your legs. His weight goes more limp on top of you, and he nuzzles against your hair, his breathing heavy in your ear.

Finally, slowly, the two of you break apart so that he can pull out, and roll into the middle of the bed next to each other. You still don't talk for a minute, but then Jimmy lets out a long whistle of approval, "I mean, you can't tell me that wasn't good."

You're staring at the ceiling, contemplating your life and everything that has happened to bring you to this moment. But you nod slowly, not bothering to look at him yet, "Incredible. All of it."

You know without looking at him that there's a cocky expression on his face. He turns onto his side and curls his body against yours, arm thrown over your abdomen, staring at the profile of your face. You feel the heat of his gaze, but you still don't look. You're not sure that you can bear to look at Jimmy without telling him you're in love with him, or something stupid like that.

After a minute, he speaks up again, "You know, it should have been 'may'."

"Hm?"

"May I come, not can I come. Don't you edit articles? Shouldn't you know this?"

This time you do finally look at him, glaring, "Oh fuck you. What's the point of not being at work if I can't forget about grammar for a little bit."

"I'm just saying," The grin on his face is infuriating, "It's indicative of a larger issue. It's the bad little habits that build up into problems."

You groan, "Holy fuck, you are the most annoying person I have ever met. I can't stand you."

"You love me," He doesn't seem the least bit bothered by your insults, his puppy dog eyes as playful as ever.

"I think I technically outrank you," You grumbled as he leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

"Pulling rank?" He holds his hand to his chest in mock offense, "Not everyone can be as good as me. Anyway, jealousy is not a good look on most people, y'know. I mean, it is on you, but that's just because everything is a good look on you."

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you think for a minute before raising a finger to point at him accusatorily, "Your words weren't perfect either, smartass. You told me to come on your cock."

His breath hitches, but he plays it off, "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I tell you to come on my cock? I wanted you to do that. Obviously."

"No," You poked his shoulder, "You said the word your to me, which would mean it's mine, not yours."

Jimmy's freckles fade back as his face reddens, "I didn't think you heard that part."

"Well, I did. And you’re a bad liar, anyway. So guess what, you fucked up too."

He shakes his head, the hot flush on his face spreading to his ears, "No, I meant that."

"What?" Taken aback, you tried to make eye contact with him, but he was avoiding your gaze now.

"I mean that it's yours," Jimmy shrugged like this was a totally normal thing to say, his voice mostly smooth, but you know him well enough to catch the hint of nerves sticking to the back of his throat, "Whenever you want. Whatever you want."

You stared at him, speechless for a moment. He finally looked into your eyes, and you searched his for something, but you weren't sure what. All you could see was genuine adoration.

"Jimmy," You breathed, still unsure of what to say.

He looked away again, let out a laugh that sounded just a bit forced, "Not in like, a pressuring way. I mean, it's no big deal. It's whatever. We never have to do this again if you don't want to. I'm just saying if you do, it'll always be an option."

"Oh," Your hand found his face, cradled his jaw, "Jimmy, there's basically nothing I wouldn't do with you."

When you kiss him this time, it's more tender, more loving, than you've ever kissed each other. You think maybe more than any kiss you've ever had, not just with him. He doesn't kiss back for a moment, and you start to worry you've somehow misread the situation, but then his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, and your lips move together, gently but passionately.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do with you," He says when you break apart. Then, a little smile on his face, he asks, "Can I tell you something totally unrelated to this conversation?"

Your brows furrowed, but you nodded slowly, "I mean...yeah?"

"I told Perry we were taking tomorrow off too."

You and Jimmy don't leave your apartment at all in the next twenty-four hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When you did finally kick Jimmy out, it was so he could go get ready for Lois's birthday dinner.

He takes his time showering, getting dressed, all the while thinking about you. He uses a little cologne that had once made you say "What smells so good?" when he wore it to work.

You text him that there was a reservation, and when he gets there he finds that you're already seated with Clark and Lois, waiting for him. You have your head tipped back in laughter at something that Clark said, your hand on the man's arm. Clark has that wide farm boy grin on his face, a good contrast to the crisp white button-up he's wearing. Clark looks good, which is something that Jimmy doesn't like noticing about his friend but often does. You look stunning, as always, and Jimmy is okay with noticing that, so he takes the time to really take it in as he slips into the seat open between you and Lois.

"Happy birthday," He turns to her, handing her a funny card he'd picked up on the way, just so he'd have something to actually give her.

"Thanks," She smiles at the card, sticks it in her purse, "Feels like a million years since we've seen you guys, even though it was just yesterday."

"It feels like a lot longer to me, too," He tries not to sound smug, "It has been a long couple of days, believe me."

He feels you freeze in the seat next to him for a moment, smacking his leg under the table. Jimmy doesn't laugh, but he wants to. Clark is giving you both funny looks, and although he's not entirely sure what they mean, Jimmy doesn't care. A long couple of days, certainly busy, but some of the best time he's ever had in his life.

He leans back in his chair, listening to you and Clark continue your conversation while Lois tells him about what an annoying morning she had, and he smiles, feeling certain that the best time in his life is still going.

[noirs-multiverse]

i am a certified gregor and the code of claw hater and thanks to the lovely @haveihitanerve asking<3, i decided to share a google doc of my commentary on it

feel free to leave comments and stuffs lol, i may make proper posts on my opinions abt code of claw and tuc in general at some point in time, but not rn

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

*GASP*

...

how come the Team does this to me? They get me every. single. time. chat, I don't even want to click on the episode BUT I HAVE TO KNOW IF MY THEORY WAS RIGHT OH WHYYYY

(the following is my live reaction:)

starting off already? well no complaints from me

it's giving "Trust No One" from WOTFI 2023 arc

PFFT HAHAHHAHAHAHA

ok ok ik it's supposed to be serious, but that "wha happen?" audio clip from Mickey Mouse Shorts really caught me off-guard. Who in the Team did that? I want to say thank you

anyway, Mario dude you gotta tell everything, especially to Karen

...well, the minecraft part isn't wrong but he's not telling the whole story

omg 4 really is doing the same thing as 3 did a year ago

which is crazy considering that 4 wasn't in 3's interrogation on Mario. They're so cosmically linked that they came up with the same interrogation method, well it's also Mario we're talking about

yeah, we'll let Karen do the rest

might as well give in, Mario. it ain't worth hiding any secrets

...4?

he's so silly I love him 💙

idk 4, maybe you should be an inspiring VA (4 would be the type of parent who would do all the characters' voices when reading bedtime stories 😌↕️)

oh. oh holy shit.

well at least you're getting it out of your system, Karen. but I do feel genuinely concerned you. I still understand but worried.

the shadows making it look like she's stabbing Mario isn't helping with my concerns

...what was that?

*wheeze* no 4, it's not the IRS

OH we got a sniper here, folks. WPNZ?

AND A ROBOTIC HAND? yeah, we're not just guessing anymore. the anon from my inbox who said that WPNZ may be a cyborg, you nailed it man

Ain't no way, Mario died (he literally cannot)

THE GMOD GUN IS BACK

HOLY SHIT nice save Karen

it's confirmed: 4 doesn't pay his taxes

Mario: "I am..." [*Invincible title card*]

he still got the walkie-talkie.... what the hell did WPNZ say to him?

YEP now we're putting the pieces together

*wheeze* Mario what was that run?

pull some strings, you say? perhaps... CONNECTIONS?

GET EM GIRLS /ref

secretive, ay?

what's with the dark room?

*flashback* I just remembered a traumatizing experience in my past, hang on I have to stim and I'll feel better. /ref

damn Mario ok

oh wait, I recognize this animation style. Anaidon, did you work on this scene? :D

PFFT THE DISTRACTION DANCE FROM THE HENRY STICKMAN SERIES OMG

I did not see that coming, ok who in the Team did that bc that was good haha. nostalgia go brrrrrrrrrr

No, WPNZ, it really did work ngl

oh shit

yep it's a cyborg hand if it's compatible with an actual arm

Gear up, it's for a swell battle!!!

FLAMETHROWER?! even Mario's not liking this

no, 4! this isn't Mario, it's Mr. WPNZ

😦

*pauses episode* ...chat, can you do something for me?

hold me back, and don't let go until I'm done. ready?

*ahem*

...WPNZ YOU SON OF A BITCH WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU AND I SWEAR YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LIVE TO SEE TOMORROW— *10 minutes and a nuke explosion later*

ok I'm good.

4 I'm going to need you to wake up buddy. c'mon you can't die, especially not you. 4 don't do this to me, you can't. you faced way worse stuff before, this can't hold you down now. your friends, your family, they're waiting for you to come back home. you can't leave them. 4 please

WE GOT A PULSE OH THANK GOD

IT'S A WEAK ONE THO, WE NEED TO GET HIM TO A DOCTOR NOW

I KNOW YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO, IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT 😭

at least Karen could finally get some answers

...a surprise?! OH HELL NO that guy nearly got them killed for ENTERING, it's a trap for sure

LET'S GO GET YOUR KIDS BACK but do be careful, we still don't know what we're up against

😭

get 4 outta there!! oh god, is the Crew gonna see 4 in critical condition? Beeg4? *head in hands*

I swear the Team is out to get me (also Mario carrying out 4 strangely reminded me of a scene from a fic I read long ago)

and ofc the whole building on fire goddammit

(btw that fall reminded me of the insomniac spider-man teasers ifykyk)

no Karen, hun you aren't. you're like one of the best parents of the entire show

you're trying to be better and give your kids the life you didn't get to have, that pretty much makes you a good parent overall

YEAH LOCK IN

alright, the moment of truth

huh? radio interference?

I FUCKIN KNEW IT YEP IT'S CONFIRMED

MR. WPNZ IS KAREN'S EX LOVER AND FATHER OF THE KIDS

(well nicc, looks like you get you keep your script after all)

oh, so he's pretty much a psycho, good to know *starts curb-stomping him*

I TOLD YOU ALL THE "HALF PINTS* NICKNAME WAS TOO SPECIFIC

what kinda monster? oh the mentally-messed-up yandere ass one, yeah that kinda monster

HE'S AT THEIR HOUSE?! FUCKFUCKFUCK

ok yeah I see how it is. violence isn't enough, time to commit crimes :)

no, don't end it there. please don't

*flips desk* AND THE MUTED-COLOR CREDITS OH C'MON

looks like I got something else right, it was a mini-arc. it's all within the math

Congrats to daekim_26 for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 hey, I recognize this, Ben reblogged this over on Twitter. ig the Team really liked your art

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

I. I'm just speechless omg. Like what am I supposed to say to that? Shadow, is this what you meant when you said we're not prepared for this? I need to walk out a sec, hang on.

ok I'm back. I guess first off, Team, wow. What an episode, it is absolutely insane how good it all was. Especially the writing and the voice acting for Karen, it tugged on my heart strings. And Anaidon, I KNEW YOU ANIMATED THAT SCENE haha!

Genuninely, bravo 👏👏👏 and my calculations were right after all

Actually, for me to post my theory hours before the episode was dropped, I'm surprised how much I got it right. Most of it, yeah, though I didn't expect how insane Mr. WPNZ is. More so doing it for himself and not the corporation, but still a lot of dedication was put into this. And he got a robotic arm! Not exactly like Clench (who has a mind of its own and can talk) but definitely advanced. So, the point could still stand that the tech, skills, and resources were based on his job at Hitman Inc.

Poor Karen, you can tell she's been very desperate in finding her kids by the voice acting alone. You can't blame her for going to these lengths. Like I said, understandable, but I do still feel concerned for her. And then, her psycho ex on top of everything smh, I won't be able to handle it.

And you can't even blame Mario either. He did the mission thinking it would help Karen, and Mr. WPNZ told him what to do. Then with the prosthetic taking Mario's arm, it wasn't even him. It was WPNZ, but I do feel like Mario's going to feel so guilty for what he did to 4.

Wrong things for the right reason 😔↕️

Speaking of 4, NO NOT MY BOY. Chat, I'm not okay. Like I knew he wasn't going to die, he's literally one of the main characters, but my heart dropped at that scene. Through the floor and 6 feet underground. I did ask for 4 angst, yes, but damn. Can you imagine how the Crew would react? Since 3 & 4 are cosmically linked, would 3 feel that 4's in critical condition? Oh Beeg, 4's his dad dude. Beeg may be pretty tough but he still cares for 4, hope he gets a bit of revenge for it. (and a sprinkle of mar4 angst)

...am I going to bring in goop!4 into this?

Who do you take me for? ofc I am. As I mentioned, the parasite would still be in 4, and because of what happened to him, it might be the necessary trigger for it to activate. After everything that had happened to him, the explosion really knocked him out. This is taken seriously, this mini-arc starts really close to the IGBP anniversary.... I wouldn't be surprised if the Team tease for the future goop!4 arc. Not immediately after the Hitman arc, far later. Baby steps, chat. If the Team drops at least ONE frame, a SECOND, about goop!4, I'll take it!

Anyway, since it is a mini-arc, we're not getting another teaser or a trailer. BUT we are getting an episode special, so we'll have to look out for that. In meantime, that's all from me. I'll see yall next time and remember, folks: numbers always go first!

man, Ben. I gotta say, the thumbnail you made, it was a cool reference to the Parasite movie poster. Awesome job!

...huh.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. It was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately clearing her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[rwrbficrecs]

the mountchristen pharma job by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: Another unique, fun fic! Heist AU meets just a hint of Christmas feels, and combined with the fact that it jumps around in time, this author constantly keeps you on your toes, wondering what will happen next. A must read!

The Flight Before Christmas by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@dot524: Alex is a flight attendant, and he’s good at what he does. But for some reason, this tall blond guy annoys the heck out of him. What will happen when they are both stranded in a snowstorm over the holiday and stuck sharing a hotel room? I’ll give you three guesses. This one had great banter and a dab of angst, and it was such a fun read!

If You're Not Made For Me (Why Did We Fall in Love?) by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Not going to lie, this was a challenging read, which lingers long after! Henry and Alex are in an established relationship, so certain of their future together. Then they stumble over the question of having kids... What follows is messy and ugly, touching and relatable, almost destructive, but resovled in a very sensitive way. This hurt phenomenally good!

london's so nice, back in your seamless rhymes by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex, newly moved to London, meets Henry on his first day of work while riding the bus into the city. From that day on, they commute together every morning and evening, and with each passing day, their feelings for each other grow. What can I say: it was soft, it was fluffy, it was so sweet. It was everything I needed to feel all warm and happy.

I'm a risk (please take it) by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: A rom-com.' Yeah—my ass. But, Wikipedia says rom-coms focus on romantic relationships and the associated dramatic twists and obstacles. Fair enough, that fits. 3.5 years of pining, angst, hurt—but a happy ending. This fic was incredible !! I can’t stop thinking about it, weeks later I’m still imagining how Alex & Henry might be doing now. Absolutely brilliant!

kiss me on this cold December night by strwbrryfox (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you like holiday fics and coffee shop AUs, this is the fic for you! This fic is oblivious Alex, pining firstprince, and the ins and outs of being part of a workplace environment during the holidays all wrapped up in a pretty bow that will leave you swooning.

Tell Me All Your Secrets by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Every time Alex visits his sister in NYC, he ends up hanging out with her best friend, Henry. Henry’s been gone on Alex from Day 1, but he assumed Alex was painfully straight. When a short-term relationship with Liam helps Henry realize that’s not the case, things start to change. The story culminates with Alex experiencing Pride in NYC for the first time. A delightful slow-burn with lots of yearning and realizations - such a satisfying and fun read.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by @here-queer-jointpain-severe (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic, the author's fic for the A Royal Big Bang event, has everything: introspection, fantasy, Alex going above and beyond for his love for Henry (as he should!), and the complex plot and suspense that will have you clicking the next chapter button until you reach the end. This fic is such a good glimpse into so many of the relationships in the book from such a unique angle!

Like Flowers In The Springtime, Every Day Is Valentine’s (That’s What Your Love’s Like) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This has to be some of the fluffiest post-canon fluff ever written, I’m sure of it! After two years together, Henry is more than ready to sweep Alex off his feet in the most extravagant way possible. Of course he is over-the-top—what did you expect? And Alex, bless him, is completely here for it—he loves it and loves Henry, and I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle. An absolutely wonderful comfort read!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #3 (Spencer Reid x Fem!reader)

A/N: I am exhausted this weekend so if at some point you feel like the writing shows that DON'T BE ALARMED. It is simply just me fighting back the urge to go to bed. The chapter does contain a good amount of sexual assault and violence so please, please, please be mindful of that while reading. I love all the comments here and Ao3, they make my day! I have also been noticing a lot of love towards the original of this series and I appreciate everyone for taking their time to read the remake! Please know that as of right now this thing IS NOT PROOFREAD I JUST NEED TO GET IT OUT! Stay safe, healthy, and happy! -Love, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #2 > Next Chapter: Tape #4

WARNING: Cancer mentioned, sexual assault, blood, knife, cutting, mentions of death, death threats. Remember that you are not alone.

Tape Contents: Spencer and Derek are sent to discuss your abduction with Adeline. You fight back a sexual and physical attack from Heather. Heather reveals her plans for what will happen if anyone finds you.

Word Count: 4,029

March 5, 20XX

Spencer wasn’t too fond of hospitals, but he was fond of children. He interacted with them, loving that he could see how they processed information–new and old—every day. He loved Henry to bits, the way the kid was so willing to listen to Spencer’s ramblings or the way he was so amazed at a magic trick Spencer was doing. 

Sick kids were a tragically different story, not that he didn’t like them. He always felt like… well, he was having a hard time conceptualizing it as he weaved through the crowded lobby. The pediatrics oncology unit was too packed for his liking. Statistically, he knew that one in two hundred eighty-five children could be diagnosed with some form of cancer before they hit twenty. That didn’t mean he had to like weaving through a small crowd of parents, doctors, and nurses on the way to room two hundred thirty with Morgan. There it was –the words for that feeling– watching someone younger than himself not being able to experience life at thirty. 

After finding the friendship keychain, Hotch decided that Reid and Morgan should find your alleged ride-or-die, Adeline Smith. Meanwhile, Hotch and Prentiss would drive to Norfolk to talk to your mother. Rossi and JJ were handling some information with the police, so they were all paired away. 

Derek and he slipped into the hospital room that housed Adeline and her daughter, Nicole. His chest tightened involuntarily at the sight of a mother stroking her daughter’s head, a smile on both of their faces. Derek was quick to speak, “Excuse me,” The mother and daughter jumped at the noise, and their eyes snapped to the hospital room door. “I’m Special Agent Derek Morgan, and this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We just have some questions.” His hands dug into his jacket pocket to pull out the badge, muscle memory for both.

Adeline’s hand fell from her daughter's hairless head to her shoulder, her fingers giving it a light squeeze. “Questions regarding?” She asked with a curious expression as she stood up, a skeptical look in her eyes. 

Spencer’s eyes met Nicole’s for a second, a small smile rising to his lips, and she gave him a nervous smile right back. He moved his gaze over to Adeline, who was now standing with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for the two men to answer her question. Derek looked over his shoulder at Spencer, then back at Adeline. He gently motioned for her to follow him to a slightly more private area to talk to her, the two moving to a corner of the room near the bathroom.

“Were you aware that Y/N L/N was being stalked?” Derek’s voice was calm as Spencer approached Nicole’s bedside chair and sat in it awkwardly. 

Spencer motioned towards the girl’s stuffed animal, a bright orange cat that sat in between her legs. “I love cats,” he said in a soft voice. 

Nicole beamed at him, grabbed the stuffed cat, and happily petted the top of its head: “Me too! This is Bee.” 

“Bee? Do you like Bees?” 

Adeline’s eyes strayed to Spencer's conversation with her daughter, and she nodded a little at Derek’s question: “We talked about it. She went to the police.” She said, a little numbly, before her head suddenly snapped towards him. “Why?” 

“She was taken from her apartment on March third. She recorded videos for the police to send to us, the Behavioral Analysis Unit, to help find her.” Derek explained gently as he watched Adeline’s face go pale. 

Adeline grabbed her clothed chest and searched for a breath, her eyes wild as she looked at Derek’s face. Her eyes began searching for some hint in his face that he was lying, but she found none. She couldn’t stop the tears that were filling her waterline, and she turned her body away from her daughter and Spencer in a desperate attempt to hide her tears from her daughter. Her knees felt weak as she tried to breathe. 

Spencer glanced back at Adeline and Derek, scooting a little to obstruct Nicole’s field of vision. He didn’t want the young girl to see her mother cry. Nicole shook her head slightly at his question, “No, not really. Auntie Y/N got her for me, and she loves bees.” She laughed softly, her words making Spencer’s heart melt a little. 

“Is Bee your favorite?” 

The girl covered the cat’s plush ears and smiled like she had a secret. “No, but she is my second favorite.” Her fingers scratched the stuffed animal’s ears gently. “Mr. Business is my first,” she whispered to him. 

“Ah, and where is Mr. Business?” His eyes searched her hospital bed, and then he spotted a stuffed cat, a tuxedo cat. He grinned a little, and he motioned to the stuffed animal with his eyes, “Mr. Business is a very fitting name, I think,” 

Adeline held out a hand for some space from Derek, and the hand clutching her chest came up to her mouth as she tried to keep from vomiting all over him. She had been stuck in this hospital when you had called her that first night. Having always loved talking to you, she answered enthusiastically. Still, the more she listened to the situation, the more she realized she didn’t have the emotional strength to comfort you the way you needed. And she said that to you. She said that to you. She couldn’t help you then, and she couldn’t help you now. She couldn’t even help her own daughter. 

A sob rose in her throat, and she shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no, we talked on that day. Th-That night,” She recounted softly to Derek through her tears. 

“What did you talk about?” Derek whispered the question softly as his eyes searched the room for some tissues, but his search was futile. He places a gentle hand on Adeline’s shoulder instead. 

“We talked about college; she wanted her mind off of things, so we talked about our apartment when we were in grad school. It’s been two days! What have you been doing for two days while my best friend went missing?” Her cheeks were red, her fingers pointing accusingly at him before she sobbed softly, and her hand was moving back up to wrap around her mouth to muffle the sound. 

“She didn’t show up to work on March fifth. That's when she was reported missing. We’re doing everything we can. What time did the two of you talk?” 

“W-we talked around nine, maybe nine-thirty?” She whispered back softly before she started to breathe heavily again. “Why didn’t I call? I should have called again. It was getting so late, and she had locked all the doors, and I thought she was just being anxious. I should have called her again. I should have left the hospital to visit her.” Her mind was spiraling, the neverending rabbit hole that showed her all the ways she could have saved her best friend, unhinged its proverbial jaw and swallowed her whole, ready to digest.  

Morgan wasn’t necessarily new to the information, as Penelope had already told him about your call logs from that evening, but he always liked to hear it be confirmed. It also helped him place an estimate of the time of your abduction. “Could you tell me about anyone, anyone at all, that might have been a little too into Y/N? Any ex-boyfriends that refused to leave her alone? Did she break up with anyone around Christmas?” 

“No, she hasn’t dated anyone for almost a year.” Adeline sighed thickly and shook her head as she tried to calm down. “No, all her ex-boyfriends, they were always so mousy. ” She sighed, “And they always look alike,” she paused and gave a soft, sad chuckle, motioning over to where Spencer was as he continued to entertain her daughter. “Well, they all look like your Doctor friend, if I’m being honest. She’s always been too nice for her own good, even in college.”

Spencer tried to talk over the sobs that could be heard from the corner of the hospital room, clearing his throat or laughing as Nicole stumbled through a story. “She’s a loud crier,” Nicole whispered with a gentle pat on Bee’s head. 

Spencer frowned as his efforts failed him, and he looked over his shoulder at Morgan, who was looking at him with a similarly sympathetic look on his face. He was about to say something when Nicole shoved Bee toward him, “You should give this to Auntie Y/N. Mommy said she was sad the other day. Bee always helps.” 

Spencer turned the stuffed animal over in his hands, and he debated telling her the truth, but thankfully, his better judgment decided against it. “It’ll be the first thing I do when I see her,” Spencer promised softly as Nicole smiled wide at him. 

As Derek and he walked out of the hospital, Derek’s eyes stayed on the stuffed orange cat in Spencer’s hands. As they pushed past a small group of people, Spencer found himself almost slamming into a pretty nurse, a gorgeous nurse. Her blue eyes blinked as she shuffled to one side, only to be unintentionally blocked by Spencer once more. She sighed a little and gave him a once over with a frown. Her eyes lingered on the gun holstered against his hip before she gave him a polite smile and said, “Excuse me,” and slipped past the two men with a determined look in her eyes.  

Derek only said something when they got into the parking lot, the two of them walking to the black SUV, “Did you pick one up at the gift shop?” 

Spencer groaned softly, making Derek chuckle as he walked around the car’s front to the passenger seat. “Open the door,” He said bluntly. When they were both inside the car, Spencer carefully placed the stuffed animal in his bag, and Derek chuckled again at the sight, turning the key. 

“You didn’t even buy me one,” 

March 5, 20XX

You were assuming Heather was angry with you. The assumption wasn’t baseless as the hunger in your stomach growled. You were quick to find that the harmony between a full stomach and morphine did matter and that harmony had left you many hours prior. You also were basing the assumption as you had spent what must have been a whole day fighting off tears and nausea. 

The sick part was that you were beginning to get used to how your body got swarmed with heavy, hot, and benevolent warmth. The dull pain in your ankle was silenced under the warmth’s blanket of kindness. It reminded you of a heated blanket in a strange way. 

You had finished the sips of your water before falling asleep and regretting it. You had learned that the bucket off to the side of the dresser was the perfect distance from the bed. Your broken ankle was dragging against the carpet with every movement.  The chain around your good ankle didn’t snag as you sluggishly managed to hold your body up against the wall to pee into the bucket.

Once you were done, you hopped on your good leg and managed to pull your clothes back on. Your body fell face-first onto the bed, eliciting a soft groan from your lips as you found your body reluctant to move from its new home. 

You closed your eyes and fell into the position, letting the bed sink in deeper. Your eyes snapped open with a sense of alertness that you hadn’t felt in hours as you heard the first click of a lock. Your arms weakly managed to push yourself up into a sitting position, pushing yourself back to your former position against the headboard. Your head throbbed at the fast movement, and your vision blurred as you tried to focus on the door. 

When it slowly opened, you sucked in a small breath of air, watching as Heather slid into the room with a tray of food. “Hello, my Catherine.” She sighed as she shoved the keys into her scrub pocket with one balanced hand. “My, my, someone is looking pale today.” She asked as she sat down in the chair off the side of the bed with a gentle, pretty smile. 

You nodded a little. Your lips were numb as you licked them. “What day is it?” Your voice came out quiet and strangled. 

“Monday,” She stated simply as she twisted the top off a bottle of apple juice. She handed it over to your already waiting hands before she carefully lowered the morphine drip’s intake level. You greedily drank the juice without thinking twice, desperate to get something in your stomach. 

You panted lightly as you pulled the half-empty bottle away from your lips, “Th-the date, I mean,” 

“March fifth,” She rolled her eyes as she carefully rearranged a neatly made turkey sandwich on a paper plate, slowly placing the plate on the edge of the bed for you to take. “You moved in here early Saturday morning, don’t you remember?” she laughed out like it was the silliest thing she had ever heard. 

You felt your mouth start to move to correct her, to tell her that you didn’t move in; she had kidnapped you. But as you stared at the turkey sandwich on the edge of the bed, you realized that playing along would be better. Playing along meant more food and less nausea. Playing along meant living longer. “Right,” You said breathlessly as you pulled the paper plate to your lap. “How could I forget?” 

Heather smiled a little as she watched you bite into the sandwich, happy to see you adjusting. You were eating so fast that she was a little worried about your empty stomach. She didn’t want to make feeding you so sporadically a habit. But yesterday, when she came up with a food tray, she thought about your rudeness and how cruel you had been to her. It made her stomach twist into angry knots. She decided that not feeding you for a day would be a lesson.

“I’m so happy our first fight is over. I hate to be angry with you, Catherine.” Heather’s sweet tone wasn’t lost on you as she touched your arm gently. Your chewing slowed for a second before you swallowed, your eyes glued to her hand on your arm. 

“I picked out every gift just for you,” She sighed softly as she traced soft circles against your skin. You fought back the urge to pull your arm away. “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know? You remember in college when you and Adeline dressed up as Lizzie and Jane Bennet. No one got it but god,” She sighed, her eyes finding yours as you stayed frozen. 

The hand on your arm slowly reached for the paper plate on your lap. Your fingers twitched a little as you fought back the urge to grab the food as she placed the plate on the nightstand beside your bed. Everything was happening so fast and yet incredibly slow at the same time.

Then she stood up and crawled onto the bed, swinging one leg over your lap before stranding you with a white smile. Her hands came to cup your face and tilt it up. A soft sigh fell from her lips. “You’ve always been brilliant,” 

You shook your head in her hands lightly. The warmth of the morphine was slow to leave your body, but as your body filled with an intense feeling of dread, you could feel everything. Your ankle throbbed sharply, and you were starting to feel like you were about to be sick again. “I’m not,” 

Heather threw her head back and laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. When she lowered her head to meet your gaze again, she leaned closer, one of her thumbs reaching up to trace your bottom lip. You cringed a little at the feeling, a sight that she ignored. “You’ve always been so humble, too. How did I get so lucky?” She whispered as she leaned in to kiss your lips softly. 

You felt your lips tighten and bile rise to your throat, and you swallowed it. You let her kiss you once, then twice, then a third time. Your lips stayed closed in a tight line as you tried to imagine yourself in a different position, but with every touch Heather placed on you, the more you stayed cemented in your reality. 

Heather pulled back with a look in her eyes that you could recognize as crazed lust. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to know what her hands felt like anymore. You bit your lip to silence a whimper. Her hands pulled roughly at your shirt as she grabbed the hem of it and pulled it over your head with a simple yank. 

You shook your head quickly now, “No, Heather, I-I’m not ready. I don’t-” 

She shushed you softly with a gentle smile as she traced the swell of your breast slowly, the touch eliciting your tears to pool over your waterline. “I know you’re worried, but I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” Her eyes lingered on the prominent bruise on the center of your chest. She frowned, leaning down carefully to kiss the blue and black patch of skin. 

“No,” You cried softly, your voice soft before you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. “No!” You yelled, causing her back to straighten and sit up. 

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a soft scoff. 

“I-I can’t do it, I’m not ready. I don’t want to, Heather. Please don’t make me.” You begged softly as tears rolled down your face. “I’ll try next time, I promise. I just, please, please don’t make me.” 

Heather frowned a little before she let out a harsh laugh, her arms folding over her chest tightly. She looked down at you, “You know I saw your precious little Adeline today,” 

You felt your back tense at Adeline's mention, “What? I thought you worked in pediatrics, not pediatric oncology. W-why did you see Adeline?” 

Heather reached out a hand to press on your bruise roughly, the feeling making you wince. “I work in pediatric oncology. Sometimes, I help Nicole. I loved it when you visited her at the hospital. It was almost too easy to steal the copy of your apartment key from Adeline. She doesn’t love you as much as I love you, you know that, right?” 

You shook your head, and you cried harder as you realized that you had never even noticed her at the hospital. Your focus has always been so zoned in on Nicole or Adeline that you didn’t even register Heather’s presence. Would Adeline remember Heather? You doubted it. 

“She talked to some agents or something and was inconsolable. Fucking useless friend of yours. Anyway, I ran into them in the hallway. Scrawny kid with some buff guy, I’m sure Adeline called them.” 

You found your hands grabbing her hand on your chest and shook your head side-to-side. “No, Adeline doesn’t know. I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t, I promise.” 

Heather’s eyes met yours briefly before they trailed down to your bare chest and your hands holding onto her wrist. “Say you love me more than her then,” 

“I-I, what?” 

“Say it.” 

You opened your mouth, but all that came out were gentle sobs as you tried to form the words, terrified that she was about to do something to Adeline. The thought of Heather hurting Adeline had you gasping softly for air. 

Her eyes were on yours again as you panted softly, “You don’t love me?” Her spit hit your cheek as she hissed the words in rageful disbelief. She was off your lap in seconds as she moved to the dresser and quickly pulled out a small pairing knife. 

“Wait,” You cried softly as you tried to hurry away from her, making a vain attempt to get up from the bed that was meant with a howl of pain from your ankle and your body slumping over the edge lamely. 

Her hands grabbed your ankles, good and injured, and pulled you roughly to the edge of the bed. A scream left your throat at the contact. “You think I’m going to let them find you?” She questioned in a suspiciously calm voice as she grazed the smooth side of the knife against your collarbone.

You stayed frozen as she leaned in closer, her lips at the shell of your ear, “If they ever found you, Emma. I would kill you and then myself. I’ve already decided. We have to be together,” Her voice in your ear had you breathing harder as she slowly pressed the tip of the knife into the area above your heart. 

The knife only stung at first before it felt like a ripping pain. Heather dragged the knife into your skin with a deliberate sense of control. Not too deep, not too superficial. Something she wouldn’t have to stitch up. She made a diagonal line before staring a few inches apart from the other cut. “We belong together, Jane.” 

You cried out again as she started dragging the knife into your skin once more, “Please,” 

“You just need to open your heart. If they ever found us, I need to mark where to shoot. Stay still.” 

As Heather got close to completing the ‘X’ mark on your chest, marking you as a possible target. You felt your body thrash under her weakly. The edge of one of the lines skewed to the left, and Heather let out an annoyed groan before she pulled the knife away from your chest and to your lips. “Stop fucking crying,” She growled as she slashed at your bottom lip. 

You hissed at the feeling as blood coated your chest and filled your mouth. You stared up at her as soft sobs kept leaving your mouth, “Fuck you.” You muttered before gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth and shooting it directly at her. 

You laughed as it made contact with her cheek, and she wiped the bloody spit away with the back of her hand. She laughed harshly as she nodded a little, “Okay, so you want to be a brat.” She laughed. 

She was sliding off the bed now, leaving you lying on your back, her chest rising and falling quickly as she gripped the pairing knife in her hand tighter. “Enjoy the rest of your meal. It’ll be your last one, Emma.” She snapped at you before stomping to the door and flying it open. 

Once she was gone, you stayed there, staring up at the ceiling wordlessly. You licked at the cut on your lip gently as blood flowed freely into your mouth. You swallowed the copper-tasting liquid as you let the consequences sink in. She was going to kill you if they found you, and you had already called for a team of highly trained professionals to come to find you. 

You almost laughed at the irony. You didn’t want them to find you. You did want them to find you. It was almost hilarious. You tried to smile with your cut lip but found the action too painful to manage. 

You didn’t want to die at twenty-eight. You wanted to see your mom again, Adeline, Nicole, hell, you wanted to go to work one more time. You rolled onto your stomach and cringed the way the fluffy comforter grazed the bleeding “X” on your chest. You reached for the morphine drip and rolled it closer as you slowly turned a knob and upped the intake. Your shaking hands then moved to the sandwich on the nightstand with a sigh. 

She could kill you when they found you, but if she thought you weren’t going to try and manipulate the situation, she was dead wrong. You weakly bit into the sandwich while trying to think of a plan. 

You refused to die without leaving a mark.

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