#if you could take a look into my head at any given moment the only thing that would be there is probably this on the loop

[on-the-clear-blue]

Some more angst, but with some fluff, not a lot tho

Leslie, after promising that Bruce hadn't made a deal with a devil or done mad science to bring Jason back, had given the boy a check up, running proper scans that couldn't be done at the Cave (yet.)

Even if Jason's fatal wounds had been mended, there were many that wasn't, not to mention the damage he had done to his hands digging his way out of the grave.

(Bruce had gone there one night, after Alfred had been sworn twice over to be by the boys side at all time, he saw the muddy trail leading away from the dug open grave, the shards of wood coated with blood, if Bruce was any other man he would have thrown up by the mere sight of it all.)

From Leslie's tests, (and the autopsy report that he had never was able to make himself read) Bruce learned the extent of what his little son was suffering, X-rays showed his hands had broke at his escape, his wrists which had been broke before he was buried barely mended and brittle.

A head CT showed why Jason struggled to speak, brain damage barely healed enough for him to function, leaving him in state of a continuous concussion.

The rest of the boy's body followed much like his hands, barely put back together, like a broken porcelain doll glued back together and played with before the glue had a chance to set.

---

Jason wasn't the same, Bruce couldn't help but notice as he got used to having his son back with him, his boy struggled so much now. The simplest tasks now herculean with the amount of effort that he had to put in with it.

Bruce helped as much as he could, always getting up to help his son stand, carring him up the long staircases of the Manor (Bruce would never admit it but he loved the closness of those little moments) though Jason was still his little spitfire underneath all difficulties he now faced.

Jason always managed to dress himself, though now most of his clothing were much more loose, easier to slip on and off, with no buttons his shaky hands struggled with nor zippers that his aching fingers couldn't properly zip.

He still was able to feed himself, though it took time for him to learn how to again, the now constant tremors he was plagued with caused more woe that Bruce liked to think about.

Not all of Jason was able to peak through though, the boy hardly spoke anymore, and when he did, his voice was weak and ragged, smoke and dust of the explosion leaving their mark on him.

Another issue Bruce had noticed was that Jason struggled to read, he would sit and stare at a page for long minutes, managing only a single chapter in the time Bruce knew that he used to be able to tear through the whole book.

Bruce had to intervene, sitting next to his son and pulling him close, the man settled him on his lap (something that Jason protested minorly), and after pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Jason's head, Bruce read for his boy, letting him close his eyes and just listen for that moment.

---

It was a month later when Bruce finally got up the courage (as well as a weak pleading look from Jason, and a single raised eyebrow from Alfred) to finally reach back out to Dick.

It had been nearly 6 months since he had heard from his eldest, though that didn't mean Bruce hadn't kept tabs on him.

Knowing right when Dick usually took a break from his work, Bruce pressed the call button, his eyes squeezing shut as the phone started to ring.

It rung once, twice, and a third time, before it was finally cut off. At first Bruce thought that Dick declined the call before he heard his sons clipped tone.

"What do you want Mr. Wanye."

Those words sunk into his chest like an arrow, and Bruce had to take a short breath before speaking.

"Richard...Dick I...I need you to come home. Something has happened and I-"

"Home? Do you mean the Manor Mr Wanye? Because I think last time we spoke you said it would never be my home. That it was a mistake to take me in." There was a growl to Dicks voice as he spoke, and Bruce could only imagine his sons clenched fists, knuckles white as he resisted the urge to yell.

Guilt built up like a tidal wave inside of Bruce, much like the bile that was rising in his throat, he had said that didn't he? He just wanted Dick to get away, to leave before Bruce's defections grew even more into his son, like a mold digging deep into the core.

"Dick please...I..." Bruce struggled with words, his throat felt tight, but he wanted...no needed to speak to Richard.

"Its Jason. He is alive. Something happened and he is back. I...I understand that you don't want to speak to me but...But please...he misses you."

Dick was silent on the other end, the only way Bruce knew he was still on the call was the shaky breaths that sounded through the receiver.

"If you are lying I will break both your arms and leave you in Arkham to rot like the insane, narcissistic bastard that you are. Don't be at the Manor when I get there."

Bruce wasn't able to get a word in before he heard the call drop, and he was left standing in his study, looking down at his phone as the guilt grew and grew.

---

And when Dick arrived Bruce was no where to be scene.

The first Robin, freshly his own man stepped back down onto the dark pavement of a place that he swore he would never return to.

Alfred was waiting by the steps, grabbing him into a frim hug before pulling back, his normally professional passive mask was gone, and a sad smile instead adorned his face.

"Welcome home Master Richard...welcome home..." and at that moment, Dick felt that maybe it was once his home. But not anymore.

Sighing slightly but returning the hug, Dick pulled away from the older man, a frown set on his face, "Bruce told me...Alfred is it true is he-"

Dicks words died in his throat as he saw movement at the front door, first assuming Bruce was coming out, that he was actually at the Manor, but...no.

It was Jason, God it felt like Dick was sucker punched in the gut, breath left him as he stared up at the boy from the steps, his eyes taking in every detail

The boy looked rough, there was scars across his face, jagged and still fresh looking, and he had a sickly palor that just seemed wrong.

"J-Jaybird? Is...holy fuck it's you..." Dick was moving before he could even think, taking the steps two at a time to get up by the door even quicker.

Jason smiled weakly, shuffling a bit over to him, letting out a soft "Hi Dickie" as said man wrapped Jason in his famous octopus hug.

Dick took a while to pull off of Jason, tears prickling at his eyes, but practically jumped back when he heard the soft whimper of pain come from Jason. "Sorry sorry...Fuck I am sorry your..." thousands of words wanted to spill out all at once but Dick stopped himself, just staring down at Jason, watching as the boy took the walker that Dick didn't even see Alfred fetching.

"I-its okay Dickie...J-just squeezed to hard..." Jason tried a smirk but it only came out as a grimace, but that turned into a frown at the look of panic on Dicka face.

"S-stop that. I...I get enough pity from D-dad." Jason said, stopping to cough half way through, which only caused the panic to shift to anger than guilt.

Alfred sighed softly as he watched the brothers, Dick looked worse than he did the last time he was at the Manor, his hair longer and tangled, dark bags under his eyes and seemed to favor his right leg, and the older man was sure that if he tapped the left it, Dick would crumple in pain.

"Gentlemen, Might I suggest to continue in the parlor? It is not too wise to have Master Jason standing for longer than he needs."

Jason gave another frown, squinting at Alfred while Dick hurriedly agreed, trying to usher Jason back into the place he once called home.

---

Bruce watched from the Cave, the security cameras of the Manor playing the live footage of his sons, and Bruce could only feel anguish as he watched the two of them sit, Jason laying his head on Dicks chest, watching as his oldest froze, the way Dick was practically forced by the hurting young boy to card his fingers through his hair, as if Dick though that if he touched Jason wrong the boy would dissappear.

Bruce though the same, that if he looked away for just a moment that he wouldn't be there, that Jason would be dead all over again.

The man held his face in his hands and wept. Because Bruce knew that deep down, that in the depths of his soul that he deserved this pain, that the suffering he caused to his little sons to endure for his foolish crusade meant that he must sit on the side lines, watching as his sons are reunited again.

---

And after hours, after Jason falls asleep and Dick spent that time acting as his human pillow, long after Bruce had cried every tear he had and dragged himself away, donning his regalia once more to be the Bat, and after Dick had left to patrol his own streets.

A young boy watched, eyes glistening with tears, joy and relief welling up in his heart as he watched through the lense of his camera, his Robin was alive. Robin was magic.

He came back.

Just like he promised he would

I am thinking about, what if Jason, fresh from the grave, actually managed to get to Wanye manor?

Like, some Gothamite stumbles upon this kid in a muddy silk suit, with hands bleeding and bruised, whos hollow looking eyes are filled with tears, trying to draw in weezy breaths and let's out a long desperate whimper that sounds like..."help me"

But instead of running and calling the police because clearly the dead are starting to raise in Gotham and that is like, actually the worst, they notice something, they have seen that face before, fucking hell nearly all of gotham had, maybe a little younger, maybe with a happy smile and a twinkle in his eye even in a black in white photo put out by the newspaper, cus that's the Wayne kid, that's Brucies little boy that got killed.

And they take him home, to the Wanye Manor clearly some bullshit happened, because in Gotham the even the dead arnt allowed to rest it seemed.

Even if nobody ever made it past the front gate, everyone knows where the Manor is, it's the seat of power for like, the most important family in Gotham, criminal or otherwise.

And they feel horrible ringing the gate bell, they would wince because it sounds like a sick joke to just to roll up, and say "I got your dead kid, you want em back?"

Imagine the pain that Alfred has to go through hearing that? Some stranger has just rung in that they have his youngest charge grandson who Alfred personally dressed in his finest to be laid to rest. The same Alfred who did the same for Thomas and Martha, who cried over their bodies in secret just as he did Jason.

He let's the stranger through the front gate, while Master Bruce has a rule against killing, Alfred is more than willing to, and his shotgun is loaded as he watches a older car slowly wind up the long driveway.

He is standing at the door, gun lowered as the stranger pulls to a stop, they don't even look surprised at the gun in the old man's hands, simply nodding at it before heading to the back seat of their car and-

Dear God they dug up his boy, anger pulses through him, the gun raises to shoot down this utter scum before...the body twitches as the stranger speaks to it, gently shaking it and...and Jason blinks awake, a strangled gasp coming from his chest before coughs, and Jason is stumbling out of the back seat.

Alfred can't move for a second, can't think as he sees Jason alive once more, the boys pained expression lessens slightly as he seems to spot thr butler, and a soft, hoarse whisper came from his lips, "A-Alfie..."

Imagine Bruce, drunk beyond the point where it should kill him, laying in Jason's bed, the curtains drawn closed, leaving the room pitch black, the only lights coming from the smattering of glow in the dark stars, done up in constellations across the ceiling, and a small night light by the door.

His son still needed a night light, his darling boy was still young enough to fear the dark, even if it was at an instinctual level.

Bruce felt disgusted by himself, hatred of the pathetic excuse of a man that he was, his son was gone gone GONE.

The lights of his life was gone, and he deserved it, he shouldn't have been so greedy, so selfish to want Dick in his life, so what if Vruce saw himself in the boy, commerserated with the searing pain of his parents, Bruce should have kept the child away, to not allow Dick to become anything like him.

It was good that Bruce was pushing him away, making the wonderful young man Dick turned out to be hate him, Bruce only deserved that, it hurt so much to turn his back on his son, but Bruce couldn't allow anymore of himself to befoul the boy he loved so dearly.

The man longed for another drink but he refused to bring the bottle into Jason's room, he wouldn't desecrate his sons space with something he had hated so much.

It was the only reason Bruce rolled out of the bed, his body felt like lead, numb and dull to the world, and as he opened the door into the hall, he saw him.

There Jason was, yet more to hunt him, his child's phantom back to torment him again.

Mind clouded with pain, Bruce would stumble up to that ghost the figment of his imagination that sought to torment him, stopping only a foot away and falling to his knees, fresh tears sting at the man's eyes. A gutteral sound of agony tearing through him as he wails in sorrow, of a future, a life snuffed out.

Only to be silenced by a weight on his shoulder, followed by a smaller body drapped across his own, the cry of pain was choked out by shock, eyes that shut fly open to see that the phantom, the ghost of his son...was not just a figment of his foul mind.

And Jason's body was not cold, not stiff with rigor mortise, it was warm and soft, the thrum if a weak heart beat pounded across his back where his sons chest was across him.

With shaky hands Bruce would, almost reverently, reach out to touch his son, pulling his hand back as if he was burned went he felt the boys body.

In a moment the man was latched onto the boy, holding onto him as if he let go Jason would fade away and he would lose his son once again.

Of course they run tests, though Bruce is never not in arms reach of Jason, always trying to keep the boy in his eyesight, and went they come back that it really is Jason? That their boy is returned? Bruce clings to his son once more, tears renewed, this time filled with relief not sorrow.

Though sadly, we don't get this, instead after digging himself out of his own grave, Jason gets hit by a car and gets kidnapped by a murder death cult and gets dunked in the evil mountain dew before getting turned against the people that love him, fed lies to fuel his pit madness and then set off on a killing spree of revenge.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Dismantle

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 11033

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Tad bit of angst. Mentions of previous SA (Blink and you'll miss it), I think that's all in this one.

Author’s Note: Hello long wait in between parts. I managed to keep this all as one long part. I figured why force you guys to have it in two parts when you can consume it in one. We're reaching the end of this series. I only have one more part planned out for this series. I hope that you guys enjoy it! The divider is by the lovely @firefly-graphics ♥

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

<< Interrogations || Phantom Masterlist || Phantom Playlist || Set Me Free >>

“What was he planning on building?” It was Ross's voice that filled the air. 

“He took the data information his brother had collected along with blood samples from test subjects.” She began as she looked towards Ross. “He also found a way to miniaturize Project Insight. Put the two together and-” 

“You get a weapon that can turn specific people into enhanced weapons.” Steve said, shaking his head. 

“There’s no way he could possibly do that.” Ross shook his head. “That kind of technology-”

“Can be created.” She added even though she was sure that he wasn’t going to say that. “DNA testing was a whole craze. It wasn’t hard for Hydra to obtain and analyze the data. The parts that were being collected would ensure it was possible. I’ve seen the plans. It was only a matter of time before it came together and went into the testing phase of things.”

“So what's the plan?” Sam asked.

“Element of surprise is out of the question.” She said as her eyes moved from one person to another. “The moment Ross was informed I was taken in, he knew too. There's no way to play it like my mission has been successful.” 

“Then we go head on.” Steve said. “They’ll see us coming. But we’ll be ready for it.”

“We don’t even know where they’ll be.” Wanda noted. It caused everyone to look towards Y/N. 

She sighed softly and nodded her head. “There's a few places they’ll be heading now that they know I’m out of the equation. I’ll even be able to give detailed routes into those facilities without setting off any of their alarms.”

“That’s gonna come in handy.” Natasha said.

It didn't take them long to go over possible locations and how the team would be able to use the information she was providing to their advantage. They had several plans in place for every scenario that could possibly happen between now and them getting to Strucker. 

Steve gave commands for each group from the team. Each one with a different plan of attack. And when Steve’s attention turned to her, she already could feel the irritation growing within her. 

“You and Clint will stay here.” He began and her head already started shaking. “If anything, be our eyes and ears with FRIDAY.” 

“I'm coming with one of you.” She said the moment he finished. She wasn’t going to agree with what was being asked of her.

“No.”

“No.” 

“Are you crazy?”

All three responses came at once, causing her to raise her eyebrow at them as she crossed her arms over her chest. The nos had come from Steve and Bucky. The ‘are you crazy?’ came from Tony. “You're not making me sit this one out.” 

“She is crazy.” Tony mumbled as he ran his hand over his face.

“You know I’m good on the field.” She said with a shake of her head. “I get that there’s the possibility of not trusting me right now, but I want to see this through, just as much as you do.”

“We trust you.” Steve began. “But given the situation, it would be better to have you safe here and not out there. We don’t know what they could do-”

“I can handle myself. I’ve been handling situations like this my whole life.” She argued. She wasn’t going to let this go without a fight. 

She knew there was a bigger fight at hand with what the team was getting ready for. But she wasn’t about to be kept out of the fight. She��d go down fighting before she was left behind.

“Buck, help me out here.” Steve looked over at Bucky. 

“What he means to say,” Bucky said, gaining her attention. “While we would be happy to have you fighting alongside us, you could be a few short words away from fighting against us. And while we had our moment of fighting each other earlier, I’d like not to be put up against you again.”

“They don't have-'' She stopped herself mid sentence when reality came crashing through her mind. 

She would have said they don't have her trigger words. That the only person who had them still, if he hadn’t destroyed it, was standing right in front of her. But she had been reprogrammed. She didn’t know anything about it this time around. She didn’t know if all it was going to take was a specific set of words to have her back under. 

She understood their worry. She understood why they wouldn't want her to be there or anywhere on the mission. Hydra knew how to manipulate her and they were going to do just that. 

But she couldn't just wait around and do very little. While she could give the team play by play instructions through each facility, it wasn't enough for her. She needed her hands in it in some way. 

A defeated sigh passed her lips a moment later and she nodded her head. “Fine.”

She could feel the way Bucky eyed her for a moment. There was something in his eyes that told her that he had been ready for more of a fight. A moment later, he nodded his head in acceptance. But his eyes never left hers. 

“Let’s head out.” Steve’s voice filled the air before the room started to clear out. 

“I told myself I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight.” He said before letting out a sigh. 

“Let me go with you. I can stay on the quinjet if that’s what’s needed.” The moment Bucky started shaking his head she changed tactics. “Then stay here with me. Clint can go and handle it.”

“As much as I want to, we both know I can’t. I have to see this through for both of us.” He needed her to understand. He was the one that was free from the Hydra’s hold. She had been taken from them just hours ago. He needed to make sure they wouldn’t have a chance to take her back. “When I get back, we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

All she could do was nod. And when she didn’t say anything else, Bucky had taken that as his cue to leave. The faster he got going, the faster he could come back to her. 

Out of a long forgotten habit, Y/N had found herself exiting the conference room and started making her way towards the common area. Her brain told her there was something in that room that she needed to see. And when she walked in, seeing the floor to ceiling windows, she was reminded why she wanted to go in there. 

It gave her the view of the air strip that was on the property. It also gave view to the several cars that were lined up as several agents climbed in. The scramble before a mission. She thought. Something she had seen plenty of times. 

But that old familiar habit reminded her that this was where she used to watch Bucky board a quinjet. It was also where she would anxiously wait for him to return from a mission. On more than one occasion, she fell asleep in the chair by the window waiting for him to return. 

As she looked out the window now, she could see the way the jets had been turned on as the ramp began closing on a few of the quinjets. Vehicles were already starting to drive off to give the aircrafts the needed space to take off. It wouldn’t be long before the runway was empty. 

“We’re not staying are we?” Clint asked as he came to stand beside her. His eyes watched as one of the quinets took off. His face was neutral in comparison to hers. He could see the thought process as clear as day on her face. He knew she was waiting for it to be clear for her to leave. 

“You can stay here if you want. But I can't sit around and do nothing.” She noted as she began walking away the moment she was sure everyone on the mission had left. 

“If you're going, I'm going with you.” He said with a shrug. “Someone has to keep you from being triggered.”

She rolled her eyes slightly. “Now the question is what are we taking?” The closest location was close enough to get to by car. “Car or Quinjet?”

“I have something better in mind.” A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips before he tilted his head towards the garage. When her eyebrow raised he chuckled. “Grab your gear and meet me in the garage. I'm sure you remember where you kept your gear. ”

It didn’t take long for Y/N to find her old locker and have tactical belts filled with weapons once more. The weight of the belts wrapped around her had brought a strange comfort to her. It was from constantly having them over the last several months. Maybe it was wrong to find comfort in weapons, but the way the last 24 hours had been, she’d take familiarity over anything else. 

When she walked out to the garage, she found Clint waiting for her. “What is the better option you were talking about?”

Clint only gave her a grin before he walked over and pulled the sheet off of a black Honda sports bike. He watched as her eyes shifted as she took in the bike. Clint could only assume it was the memory of how much she had loved it. 

She walked over and looked over the bike. It had been some time since she had seen it, let alone rode it. She remembered the day she had bought the bike. How excited she had been the few days leading up to getting it. It was the first thing that had ever truly been hers and she spent every free moment she could riding it. 

“We found it at one of the safe houses.” He noted as he watched her. “It was around the time Bucky started looking for you and he insisted that it come back with us. Mentioned that if you had seen how much dust was collecting on it, you would have killed someone.” 

She shook her head before she looked back over her shoulder at him. “I left it there when I decided to stop using the safe houses. It felt like it belonged to a life that I was no longer a part of.” 

“Everyone comes back home eventually.” He said, giving her a smile. 

She returned the smile before she found herself a moment later sitting on the bike while pulling her helmet over her head. The motions of bringing the bike to life caused a grin to pull at her lips even though it couldn’t be seen. The memories of it all made her wish that she hadn’t been going for a mission and just for a joy ride.

Lifting the visor on the helmet, she looked over at Clint. “Hop on.” It didn’t take Clint long to climb up behind her and get himself situated. “You better hold on to your arrows, Hawkeye.” She said before the sound of tires screeching along the pavement filled the air before she was taking off. 

_____

With the information that Y/N had provided, each set of teams had managed to work their way in undetected. With their stealth, they had been able to take down several Hydra soldiers in the process. Each group hadn’t been met with anything they couldn’t handle. 

At a majority of the locations, the teams had been able to clear it completely. That if anything they caught them in the middle of attempting to destroy any evidence. And with a little physical force, FRIDAY soon had access to it all.

For Bucky, Sam, and Steve, it had almost been too easy for them to make the progress they had. The lower level entrance had been left unguarded. While they had kept themselves ready for anything, there was something off. In comparison to the other’s reports, they had an easier time clearing each section of the building. 

“Something doesn’t feel right.” It was Sam that voiced the same thought they were all thinking. “It shouldn’t be this easy. Not with the intel we have.”

Even with Redwing discreetly flying ahead, there wasn’t a soul they came in contact with. Thermal scans didn’t even pick up any guards on the levels above or below them. And that in itself should have brought them some sort of relief. But it didn’t. 

“Maybe there’s another place she didn’t know about.” Steve added. They had been currently working their way through an area of the building that was used for storage. “Or they left in a rush knowing we were coming.”

“This place hasn’t been trashed yet.” Bucky noted. “They haven’t left. The better question is-”

“Found them.” Sam said as Redwing alerted him to the incoming soldiers. “It seems they’ve finally realized we’re here.”

“How many?” Bucky asked.

“Enough that we won’t break a sweat.” Sam responded with a shrug. 

“Let’s hope so.” Steve responded just before the doors from both the left and right busted open. 

Much like Sam had mentioned, the three of them had been able to handle the amount of soldiers that filled into the room. While the numbers may have been a tad daunting, with as much training as they had, it almost felt like another day in the office. 

By the time the last one had been put down, the three of them had made it to the opposite side of the warehouse and through another corridor. Another part of the building that hadn’t been so much as touched or trashed as they were expecting. If anything, it was like they were preparing to move into this one. 

“I don’t like this.” Bucky noted.

“I second that.” Sam said as he opened another door, finding stored equipment. 

Some of the equipment had been covered up in sheets while some that were pressed against the wall were uncovered. All of it pieces to what Sam could assume was the new and improved Project Insight.  

“This still doesn't make any sense.” Steve shook his head as he entered the room with the equipment, taking note of the pieces he could see.. “If the other locations are scrambling to destroy all of their information, what’s different about this one?”

“Maybe the ones that ambushed the compound were at this location?” Sam offered as he pulled one of the sheets off.”

The moment he did, he heard an audible gasp leave Steve and Bucky. Beneath the sheet had been a memory suppressing machine. And by the looks of it, it was as shiny as new. 

“Makes sense.” Bucky shook his head, not being able to take his eyes off the machine in front of him. It made something in his stomach turn at the sight of it in front of him. “If they plan on creating enhanced-”

“They need a way to control them.” Steve shook his head as he looked over at Bucky.

As the three of them continued to look at the suppressing machine, they hadn't noticed the two agents sneaking up on them. And when Bucky had finally noticed it and began aiming at the soldiers in the doorway, a set of gunshots were going off. The bodies fell to the ground causing three sets of eyes to widen slightly before bracing themselves for what could be waiting just past the entry. 

“First rule about entry ways,” A familiar voice filled the air before Y/N took a step into the entryway. “Never forget about them. You never know what lurks just beyond them.”

It wasn’t hard to miss the several emotions that played through Bucky before he settled on one. She could easily see the way his eyes shifted from disbelief to anger before he began shaking his head and closing the space between them. 

“Barton unconscious somewhere?” He asked her as he came to a stop in front of her, his eyes narrowing at her. 

“Like I’d let her even try.” Clint said as he came into the room a moment later. While his hold on the bow string had eased, he hadn’t let it go completely. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky asked, never pulling his attention off of her. “The whole reason for you staying behind-”

“I listened.” She cut him off with a shrug. “You said nothing about following behind after you left.” 

She knew that was probably one of the worst things she could have said. She was trying to ease some of the growing tension between them. Before Bucky could even begin to voice his irritation with what she had said, she continued. 

“It can’t just be you doing this. I need to be here just as much.” She kept her eyes on him. “This is my life they currently have a hold on and I need to be here to see that it’s destroyed. I can’t be the one to sit around and wait and hope that it all works out. I’m here now and it’d be pointless to make me leave. I can handle this and you know it.”

Her attention may have been on him, watching as anger and frustration began to change to worry, but she hadn’t missed the movement out of her right peripheral. The other three were to her left and there was no way it could have been any of the others. It caused her to lift her gun and pull the trigger without looking away from him. A thud followed shortly after. 

“I feel like that’s convincing enough.” Sam noted. A chuckle from Clint followed a moment later. 

A glare formed on Bucky’s face as he continued to look at her. There were a million things going through his mind at that moment. He wanted to drag her out of there and take her back to the compound. He wanted her as far away from here as possible. 

He knew that out of the options of facilities she pointed out that this one was the one to be more on alert about. That fact was proven with what they had just finished dealing with. The chances of Strucker being there were growing by the minute. 

But his face had softened a bit as understanding had begun to fill him. While he wanted her safe, he couldn’t force her to leave. And if he was being honest with himself, there was a part of him that knew she would do something like this. It never failed that Y/N would be somewhere she shouldn’t be. 

I just got you back. He wanted to tell her.  I don’t know what I’d do if-

“Stay close to us.” He said a moment later. “If anything even comes close to going south, you get out of here and don’t look back.”

It was the only way he was going to accept her staying there. He wasn’t going to let her be anywhere out of arm's reach while they were there. And if the moment things got out of their control, he was going to make sure she made it out safely. 

“You got it Sarge.” She said with a mock salute before a small smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. 

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we’ve managed to clear out a majority of this level. Minus the few of them trickling in.” Steve said, pulling their attention. While any other time he would have left the two to deal with this, now wasn’t the time. “Do you think with this breathing room we could hook up FRIDAY?”

“It wouldn’t be too hard to do.” She said with a slight shrug. “We could technically do it from down here. I just need to get to the servers down the hall.” She pointed her thumb towards a hallway towards her left.

She tried to ignore the raised eyebrows she saw. It was slightly off putting to be there as it was. And for that information to come out so easily, it added to the unspoken list that showed she had been there multiple times over the last six months. 

Multiple times that some of them never resurfaced in her memories. Some of them blended with others that made it seem like she had been there less than she actually had been. But one thing was for sure. Out of the options of facilities that the Avengers had split up to, this was the one she knew like the back of her hand. 

Her eyes began wandering. While she had been down this hall several times, she’d never seen inside this room. She had taken notice of the equipment by the walls and the sheets that seemed to take over a majority of the room. Just as her eyes were about to land on the machinery behind Sam, Bucky had her spun so that she was facing the exit. 

“I promise it’s not worth the look.” Bucky noted from behind her, before gently leading her out of the room and out of the way for the others to exit. 

It didn't take them long to make it down towards the Server room. Steve took the lead, keeping his eyes scanning just in case. Bucky and Y/N followed behind, with Sam and Clint at the back. And when they were at the server room door, it had been easy to break the lock allowing them entry. 

It was almost as if she was moving on autopilot when she stepped into the room. Her mind had instantly known where to go to access the laptop tucked away. She had it open and ready before Steve or Bucky made it to her side after checking out the rest of the room. Something she hadn’t even thought about doing before walking right over. 

Steve handed her a flash drive and she got to work. The four men kept an eye out for anything while her fingers ran across the keyboard. Her fingers hitting the keys had been the only sound coming from the room. All of them were on edge as she attempted to make this fast. 

When she first started, she had a smirk pulling at her lips with how familiar the key strokes had been. How easy it was to hack into the system in comparison to the other things she had been up against. It wasn’t until a thought crossed her mind. 

Why is this too easy?

The further she got into the system, the more that smirk fell from her lips. Even though she only needed a few more seconds before FRIDAY could take over, there was something in the back of her mind raising red flags. Soon her brows began to furrow as her fingers began moving at a snail's pace. 

FRIDAY was uploading. But it had been way too easy. She was sure there would have been several more walls she would have had to break through before she had gotten to this point. It was almost as if there wasn’t anything fighting her to get in. Even she knew that Strucker wouldn’t have allowed the system to be left so unguarded. 

A moment later, FRIDAY’s upload was stopped short of completing. A secondary window popped up without her so much as pressing a key. It sent a spike of fear through her. It had been a camera view of the room, pointed directly at the group. Almost as if it was watching them. 

“Bucky…” She said, keeping her attention on the screen. 

Bucky came and stood beside her the instant she said his name. The change in her voice was enough to set off alarms in his mind. He could see the codes moving on the screen without her touching the keyboard as the video footage continued to play.

“Did you?” He asked, wanting to be sure. He watched as she looked over at him and shook her head. “Come on,” Bucky said, a heartbeat later, taking her hand. “We need to get you out of here.”

The words had barely filled the air before the sound of glass breaking followed. The metallic clink of smoke grenades hitting the ground proved just how much of a turn this had taken in a short time. Smoke filled the air that made it almost impossible to see through it. 

“There’s a stairwell just around the corner to the upper level.” She said as her hand tightened around Bucky’s for a moment before letting go and reaching for the knives at her hips. She knew without a clear sight she wouldn’t be able to use her gun. She could easily fight through with the knives she had on hand and make it through the otherside. 

“Stay close.” Bucky said as he pulled his own weapons and readied himself.  “If you see an opening to-”

“Leave.” She finished for him. “I know. “

She heard him and understood what he was saying. But she wasn’t going to leave him behind while she got out. She wasn’t sure how or when she’d actually do so but she was determined to get him out of there, even if it meant without her. 

The sound bullets hitting metal filled the air, followed by the sound of an arrow whizzing by. Each of them engaged with soldiers that found their way into the room. The group made their way towards one of the broken windows and it wasn’t long after that Bucky and Y/N were out in the hall, facing another set of incoming soldiers. 

They moved in sync the moment they moved into the hallway. It didn’t matter which way soldiers came at them, they had each other covered. It was a routine that they had developed after years of being on missions together. Something that had only ever felt comfortable between the two of them. It never flowed as smoothly with anyone else. 

It didn’t matter the steps they took toward the stairwell she mentioned, they had each other covered. Where one dropped their arm, the other had replaced it. Maneuvers that put them back to back, or chest to chest, the two easily brought down the numbers they faced. 

Any time someone got too close, one or the other would take care of them before falling back into the routine only they knew. By the time they reached the opening to the stairwell, they were left facing each other with no more incoming attacks, for however brief that may be.  

Once their eyes met each other’s, they dropped their weapon to their sides. In one heartbeat, Bucky nodded his head once. A silent question if she was alright. She gave a nod as her response. And in the next heartbeat, Bucky was pulling her into him, his lips descending on hers. 

It was a brief moment of release. It was a mix of the adrenaline from the fight and the longing that they both kept buried within them. It was a way to convey everything they hadn’t been able to in the last two years. 

Bucky pulled her closer just as she wrapped her arms around his neck. How easy it would be just to get lost within each other. But both of them knew of the dangers they found themselves in. Neither of them lost to the emotions and physical actions they were feeling. 

“Hate to break up the moment, but this definitely isn’t the time for this.” Clint said the moment he found the two. 

A huff of a chuckle passed Bucky’s lips as he reluctantly pulled away from her. His eyes met hers and he could see the slight smirk tug at her lips as she shook her head. It was definitely worth it.

“What just happened?” Sam asked with a raised brow as he joined them. 

“Nothing.” Bucky said, giving Y/N a wink before nodding his head towards the stairwell entry. “We were waiting for you guys to catch up.”

“We weren’t that far behind.” Clint noted, earning an eye roll from Bucky and a soft laugh from Y/N.

“Floor is cleared for now.” Steve approved the group last. “But the faster we get out of here, the better.”

“Up the stairs we go.” She said to the others before turning and heading up. 

When they cleared the stairwell, she led them down the hall towards the left. She couldn’t place it, but everything within her gut was telling her she should have gone for the other hallway instead of the way she knew would lead them out of the building. The obvious choice could cost them seconds, but backtracking for a gut feeling would cost them more. 

The main entryway to the facility would be around through the corner. They could regroup outside of it while waiting for the others. 

It was as the group rounded the corner that they all skidded to a stop. Blocking their way out were several Hydra soldiers. Each of them with a gun pointed at the group. Strucker stood in the back of them, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

When they attempted to turn back around, several more crowded the hall, pushing them towards the middle of the open space. The numbers in comparison looked daunting. They were surrounded and backup wouldn’t be there for a bit longer. 

“What are our chances of fighting out of this one?” Sam said low enough for only the five of them to hear. 

“It’s not like we haven’t before.” Clint noted. 

“We’re running low on everything.” Bucky added. 

“We’ll make it enough.” Steve said as they braced themselves. 

“Well done, Phantom.” Strucker’s voice held humor within it as he eased his way to the front of the line. He came to a stop just a few steps directly in front of Y/N. “Part of me thought with Maximoff in your head that things wouldn’t go according to plan. But here you are.”

All five of their faces fell as they took in his words. The men looked over at her for an answer. But they all saw the same thing. She was just as confused as they were. 

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t-” She looked towards Bucky with her mirrored expression. “I wouldn’t. 

A light chuckle passed Strucker’s lips, gaining her attention once more. “It’s there in that head of yours. You may not remember our conversation, but the programming in your mind remembers it.” His eyes moved towards Bucky before moving over to the others beside them. “You were told not to return until your mission was completed.”

“The mission failed!” She said as she took a step towards him. She could feel the way the worry morphed into tension beside her. She needed them to know she didn’t betray them. “My mission was to take them down and kill the former Winter Soldier. He still lives. The Avengers still stand and they are tearing apart your facilities as we speak.”

Strucker’s attention came back to her and he began closing the space between them, crowding her space. She tensed up as she felt his lips by her ear. “Not all commands are the mission. Dig a little deeper into that head of yours, Phantom. Your commands come from me, not your handler.”

An unpleasant chill ran through her as she attempted to take a step back. Her hand almost instinctively reached back for Bucky. But Strucker grabbed a hold of her arm, keeping her from doing so. He took several steps back, pulling her with him. 

She heard several guns cocking back and she was sure it had something to do with Bucky attempting to take a step towards her. But she wasn’t going to take her eyes off of Strucker, just in case. But it was as her eyes met his, and saw the gleam in his eyes that she learned what her mission had been. 

Strucker stood in front of her, the very building where they had been collecting all of the equipment they’d need for his plan. A smirk had pulled at his lips as he took her in, ready for her final mission. His plan was just a few steps away. 

Her eyes barely shifted as he closed the space between them. “Several units are setting up for a mission. The target is the Avengers’ compound. Their mission is to cause a distraction enough for you to get in while attempting to take out the Avengers. They will more than likely fail. Your mission will be to kill the former Winter Soldier. I need him out of the way for several reasons. But that won’t be your only mission. Get the others here by any means necessary. Get them to follow you here or however else you can. We’ll need them for the next phase. Your handler believes you only have one mission. Make it believable. Understood?”

“What is your mission?” Strucker asked as a way to make sure she fully understood. 

“Kill the former Winter Soldier. Lure the Avengers here.” The words came quickly from her. 

“Good. Make sure you don’t return until you are successful in your mission.” Strucker’s head nodded before holding out a file to her. “You have five hours to prep.”

Her heart sank into her stomach the moment the memory played out. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Strucker, even as guilt and self hatred was growing within her. If she had known that had been buried within her, she never would have allowed them to go.

What made her feel worse was Bucky standing a few feet behind her. Steve chose this location to go to when he split them into teams. This had been the closest location and by some chance, they ended up here. And soon after she followed. 

Don't return until your mission is complete.

“And there it is.” A smirk pulled at Strucker’s lips. “Such a perfect Asset. Completes missions even when she’s believed to be free. But as the property of Hydra, there is no freedom. Only obedience.”

From his words she was desperate to prove him wrong. She wanted to prove to herself that she still had some control over her own mind. And without another thought, she was pulling her last loaded gun from her belt with it aimed directly at Strucker’s head. 

Two soldiers flanked her with their guns drawn and aimed at her. She could see them from the corners of her vision and she didn’t care. It didn’t matter that they were there. A simple pull of a trigger and she was sure she’d be able to maneuver herself out of the way before the soldiers could even get their finger to move. 

She had it planned out. She had it all thought out and ready within a blink of pulling that gun up. They would be able to fight their way out and this would be a successful mission. But as she went to pull the trigger, she found her brain telling her she shouldn’t do it. That she couldn’t do it. And that confidence she had burning within her moments ago was quickly extinguished the moment Strucker started to chuckle. 

“You’re not going to pull the trigger, Phantom.” A smirk pulled at Strucker’s lips. 

“You don’t know that.” She responded quickly. “Maybe I’m just stalling.”

She tried to keep her voice even. She tried to make it sound like she knew what she was doing. But there was a part of her that had fear growing within her. 

“Stalling?” He scoffed and took a step into the gun. The barrel of the gun touched his forehead. “Everyone in this room knows how quick you are when you’ve set your mind to it. I should already be dead on the ground. Yet, you claim you’re stalling. We both know you can’t. So why don’t you follow orders and hand the gun over.”

She fought everything within her to pull the damn trigger. Anything to wipe that smug look off of his face as he watched her. But once again, there was something forcing her not to and she hated that she didn’t know what it was. 

Hearing the frustrated cry pass her lips as she handed over the gun had caused an ache to fill Bucky’s chest. He knew there was more to her reprogramming than they had known and there was nothing she could do about it. All she could do was follow orders. His orders.

“That’s my girl.” 

Hearing the words come from Strucker had caused something to grow within Bucky. It was a feeling that Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. And as he watched Strucker grab Y/N’s chin, making her look directly at him, Bucky was itching to pull a trigger. 

“Tell me, Sergeant Barnes.” Strucker’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as his grip on her chin tightened slightly. “Was she as obedient with you as she is with me? Accepting every command, without a second thought?”

Bucky watched as she fought Strucker’s hold before he leaned in and whispered something into her ear. It caused her to stiffen and her movements to stop altogether. If Bucky thought he wanted him dead just for being a part of a Hydra, he wanted it even more now. 

The anger that had been building within him from the moment they walked into the room was growing with each word that left the man’s mouth. But that anger became boiling the moment his eyes flicked to her face. 

From where he stood, he could see the way her eyes were welled with tears but there had been a vacant look within them. Bucky couldn’t even begin to think about what memories she could be reliving in the moment just from Strucker’s words. It made him want to personally bash his skull in. 

As Bucky was about to take a step forward, Steve grabbed a hold of his arm. “She’s still in there.” Steve whispered. “Watch her hand.”

His eyes flashed towards Y/N’s hands. Her pointer finger made slight tracing motions along the side of her tactical suit. It was the same pattern the two used frequently. She was trying to pull herself out of the torment she was currently in. Bucky needed to get the attention off of her in some way. 

“The difference between us Strucker,” Bucky began, attempting to get his attention off of her. “Is that you had to take her will away from her in order for her to accept you. I never needed to.” 

He racked his brain for something that would help her. A passage from her book had flashed through his mind. As much as he learned some of her commands hadn’t worked during the ambush, he knew some of the core settings were still within her. There was no getting rid of those. And no matter how much he hated to think about triggering her in any way, he knew this might just work in her favor. He just hoped that it wouldn’t pull her too far in that he couldn’t get her out. 

Without missing a beat, Bucky continued. “Proves she’d never come willingly to be used for your simple pleasures.”

The moment the words filled the air, that pulled Y/N in deeper to the memories that she had been currently revisiting. And with that memory came a command that had never been rewritten. One that she just needed to be reminded of.

Rumlow's thumb and finger grabbed her chin roughly and lifted it, forcing her to look up into his eyes. A small tick of a smirk pulled at his lips as he saw the familiarity of nothingness in her eyes. "She does have a pretty face. No wonder her missions are always successful. 

"Careful Rumlow." Pierce's voice filled the air. His attention on the paperwork on the desk off to the side. "Unlike the others, this one is allowed to fight back. You won't be able to get your dick wet before she goes back to her handler."

"Shame." There was disappointment lacing his words. "I would have loved a little pleasure before the mission with Rogers." His thumb eased pressure against her chin before running it along her bottom lip. 

Her hands twitched at her sides. Almost fighting the need to connect her fist to his face.  The echo of her programming and Handler's voice playing in her mind. “An asset such as yourself will never be used for simple pleasures. Anyone who tries to take that pleasure for the sake of anything other than the mission at hand should be slain without question. They’ll jeopardize the mission if they try.” 

“Phantom.” Pierce said never taking his eyes off of the paper in his hand. Her eyes shot towards the man even though she still couldn’t turn her head with Rumlow’s hold. “Go easy on him. He doesn’t know any better.”

The moment she saw the slightest nod of his head, her hand was wrapped around Rumlow’s wrist and twisted his arm before flipping him on his back. Shock filled Rumlows face as he tried to counter but was met with a blow to the groin before the same combat boot fit snugly against his neck, keeping him pinned to the ground. She would have killed him if her original handler hadn’t come into the room and stopped her moments later. 

When the memory cleared her mind, her eyes focused on Strucker. A smirk pulled at his lips seeing the way they had focused on him. But unlike the vacant expression he had seen moments ago, there was a fire burning within her eyes. 

The moment he blinked, Y/N had her hand wrapped around his wrist and twisting quickly. In the same moment, she was pulling her hidden blade and throwing it directly into the eye of the nearest Hydra soldier beside them. And that was when the others began taking action along with her. 

Arrows and bullets flew through the air and occasionally in the corner of her eyes, she could see Steve’s shield making its way across the room. She even caught glimpses of Bucky making sure she was clear from anyone else coming at her. But no matter what was going on around her, her focus had solely been on Strucker. 

It was obvious Strucker was no stranger to combat. She could see it within his movements. After she had twisted his wrist to break free from his hold, he had been countering her attacks. He had studied her movements long before this. Long before she was ever brought to him. But in comparison to her, he was hardly struggling to keep up. 

She didn’t care though. It may have been the commands threaded through her brain that kept her going, but she was fueled by all the pent up anger she had within her. Everything that she was forced to endure by the hands of someone else fanned those flames that burned within her. And nothing was going to stop her until his heart stopped beating. 

The voices and sounds around her had meant nothing to her. Her tunnel vision only led to Strucker. When she said she wanted to make sure this ended here, she knew it would begin with Strucker and she wasn’t going to allow him to leave the building alive. 

While a part of her wanted to just let loose on him and take out all that anger on him, she knew he was expecting that. She knew that he could use her rage to his advantage and take the upper hand. She refused to allow herself to be stuck within his grasp again. Instead, she was setting up the trap and Strucker just needed to take bait. 

While she may have been meeting him strike for strike, her efforts were a lot less than his. His need to have the upper hand stronger than the rationality that she was someone who made plans on the spot. She needed him exhausted. She needed him to be beaten down enough that once he realized that she was toying with him, it’d be too late. 

“You’re doing all of this for what?” Strucker asked as he blocked her fist as it came towards him. “Freedom? It’s something you’ll never have. Not with everything locked within your brain.”

“Freedom.” She scoffed as she pushed him back hard enough to give her space. “You’re right. There is none when you’ve been turned into a weapon. But I’ll get as close to it as I can. Starting with killing you.”

And when the two met once more, Y/N had blades in her hand. Ones that had been tucked into the sleeves of her tactical suit. Ones that Strucker hadn’t seen coming. And while he tried to block, she was quicker. 

Each maneuver he attempted to evade her blades, ended up with him getting nicked in all the places she was strategically aiming for. And when she had Strucker exactly where she wanted him, the blade pierced his chest. It had been a direct hit into his heart just as she had always been trained for. One hit and she could see life begin to drain from his eyes. 

“Freedom may never be in the cards for me. But I’ll fight like hell to make sure no one goes through what I did.” There was a satisfaction that filled her as she watched his last breath leave his lips. 

She had killed plenty with this close proximity. But there was something about watching Strucker die at her hands that made this all the more personal. She wrapped her hand around the handle of the blade and something within her snapped. 

She had pulled the blade out of his chest before quickly forcing it back in. It still landed in a way she knew had hit his heart once more. But it wasn’t enough for her. She repeated the action again and again. With each time the blade was forced into his chest, it still hadn’t felt like enough. 

Bucky called out to her, but her mind refused to register it. Her mind was a mess of emotions and all it could focus on was continuing to stab the body in front of her. She had lost count of how many times she had repeated the motion. Lost count of the amount of times she either hit the same initial wound, or made new ones into his chest. It wasn’t long after that she felt vibranium wrap around her and pull her away. 

“He’s gone.” Bucky said calmly, trying to reassure her. “It’s over.” 

He felt her still for a brief moment before her elbow met his stomach, causing him to release her. His eyes widened as she took several steps away from him. A heart beat later, Bucky was blocking the blade that came towards him. While he should have been worried, he saw the look in her eyes. The rage he saw within them hadn’t left yet. 

Bucky easily maneuvered the blade out of her hand and tossed it off to the side. If she needed to work out the rage, he’d let her do it. While he didn’t want to fight her again, he knew she needed an outlet. Killing Strucker barely made a dent in what she must have been feeling. And when she came at him with her fists, he was ready for it. 

Her moves were sloppy. Unlike earlier with her planned movements, the rage within her was only seeking to harm in some form or another. There wasn’t a care with how she tried, she just needed to draw blood. It was how Bucky was able to keep her focus on him. 

He heard the other’s rushing to their side. Clint and Sam were behind Y/N and Bucky could see Clint take a step towards her. They weren’t sure what was going on with Y/N and they wanted to stop her before anything happened. 

“Don’t.” Bucky said as he blocked another of her hits.” She’s okay. She just needs to work it out of her system.”

When Y/N attempted another hit, Bucky had been able to dodge it before getting a hold of her arms. It was to get her to stop her movements. To stop going blindly at this. 

“Look at me.” He said as she attempted to get out of his hold. His voice remained calm. “It’s me. There’s no other threat.”

At first, her eyes lifted to his but she hadn’t seen him. Her brain still had wires crossed and she couldn’t focus on him. But she had heard his voice. The break in the sea of rage she felt. And as her fists hit against his chest, the first emotion other than rage hit her. 

 Her fists continued to hit at his chest, but with each hit they lessened in strength. As they lessened, Bucky could see the way her bottom lip trembled. He knew that the rage that had been consuming her was leaving her body. 

“It’s just us.” Bucky promised as his hold on her loosened, before rubbing his hands along her arm. He watched as tears welled up and small sob passed her lips. “If you still need to let it out, do it. But know you’re still safe with me. With us.” He watched as her eyes flicked over to others before they moved back to him, finally taking him in. “I promise it’s over.”

She began shaking her head quickly, taking several steps back from him. Her eyes stayed on his. “It’s never going to be over.”

Bucky hadn’t missed the way her eyes were now dimmed in comparison to the fire he saw within them when she first joined them earlier. The determination for this to be over and done with had fueled those flames. Now that she was currently covered in Strucker’s blood, he could see that fire was being extinguished. 

“We’ll do our best to make sure it’s over.” Bucky said, taking a step closer to her, but she took a step back as he did. His face fell before making sure his feet were planted on the ground. 

Y/N was processing everything and needed some resemblance of space. That was her way of asking for it. There were several things going through her mind and the simple statement of this whole thing being over didn’t sit well with her. There were too many things that were left open.

They had all once believed that it was over. That there would be nothing left. They believed Hydra was gone and they had been clipping every weed they believed was growing. They believed none of the smaller cells had grown larger after clipping them. Yet here they were and she was tangled within those growing weeds. 

“They keep coming back.” Her voice broke towards the end. They had all heard it and she hadn’t missed their reactions to her words. 

For every version of her they saw and faced, this was something she was one hundred percent certain they’d never seen this side of her. The broken and afraid version of herself. The emotions she hardly felt and couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt as she did now. 

“He was right.” Her eyes moved between the men that stood in front of her. “It will never be over as long as I can be used as a weapon.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m better off locked-”

“No.” Bucky said, shaking his head. He risked taking another step closer towards her. She hadn’t moved. “We can make sure that would never happen again.“ He didn’t want her thinking she needed to be locked away. He didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t have the freedom that she was seeking. 

“You shouldn’t make those kinds of promises.” She wiped at the tears falling down her cheeks. 

Promises to keep her safe weren’t something she needed or wanted to hear. If anything, it had been a low blow for her to even begin to say what she had been thinking. But it seemed Bucky caught on to the meaning pretty quickly without even needing to say more. She could see within his facial features. 

He shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to break this one.” He took another step towards her and once again she took another one back. “I will do everything I can to make sure you will never be used that way again.”

As he took a final step towards her, that dimming fire he’d been watching within her eyes had been snuffed out. There was no light within them. It wasn’t replaced by coldness or anger. Nor had fear grown with his words. All he could see within them was emptiness. He watched as she barely gave a nod of her head before she turned and walked away from them. 

_____

Several hours later, Y/N kept her arms wrapped around herself as Bucky led her towards his room. There was a time where she had the pathway memorized. That if she ever needed to find his room with her eyes closed, she could find it easily. But now? It felt like a lifetime ago that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find it now. 

After each of the teams returned back to the compound, she had felt suffocated by the amount of people that were wanting to talk with her. The debrief had almost felt like an interrogation and she hated every moment of it.  Her brief relief of it all was when she got to clean herself up away from everyone.

What made it worse was the looks Clint and Steve kept giving her at any point. The looks that told her they were waiting for the right opportunity to keep asking her if she was okay. As if they were waiting for the moment that she would break completely. Waiting to help pick up the pieces of the mess that was bound to happen. 

If it hadn’t been for Bucky’s soft ‘Will you come with me?’, she was sure she would have snapped. She was sure she would have taken it out on one of them and wouldn’t have batted an eye when she left their ass on the ground as she walked away. 

It was safe to say that part of her was on edge. Even as she stepped into Bucky’s room and he closed the door behind them, she didn’t feel at ease. Her eyes scanned the room and there was a part of her that hated how she was currently feeling while standing there. 

Nothing had changed since she left. Yet everything almost felt unfamiliar to her. These walls had once become a safe haven to her and now, she wasn’t sure. Her fingers had itched to reach out and touch things. Things that her memories were telling her that was okay to do. But did she now have a right to?

Bucky watched her as he leaned against the back of the door. He watched as her eyes moved from one place to another, taking everything in. He noticed the way she held herself as she did. She wasn’t relaxed in the slightest. It reminded him of the first time she had stepped into his room.

The difference between then and now was that she was carrying herself differently. The attitude she had the first time she had come into his room almost made him want to toss her out and have FRIDAY make it so she couldn’t even step by the door without it locking loudly. Now, she was a shell of herself that didn’t trust anything or anyone. 

He sighed softly and it caused her to look towards him. “You’re safe here, you know.”

“Am I?” Her words sounded lifeless. “I-” She stopped herself and bit on the inside of her lips. 

Pushing away from the door, Bucky moved towards the bed and sat down at the edge of it. “You used to feel safe here. Once we actually became friends, you used to find your way in here after missions. You’d sit right here,” He motioned to the space next to him. “And we’d talk about whatever it was we wanted to.”

She nodded her head but none of the tension left her body. “I know. I just don’t understand why you’d want me here now.”

“For one you were about to knock Steve on his ass.” A small smile pulled at his lips and he watched her relax a little bit. “I figured you’d want a moment without the whole team practically invading your space.”

That allowed her to ease her hold on herself. A sigh passed her lips as she began looking around the room once more. “I’m not used to it anymore. I forgot what it’s like for everyone to care.”

“They’ve been looking for you for over two years.” He noted with a nod of his head. “I don’t expect them to ease up for a while.”

They. For some reason that single word made her heart ache. It wasn’t ‘we’. Part of her knew that Bucky probably hadn’t been reaching out for her to come back. She knew that. She saw the messages in the safe houses from everyone but him. But he had started looking for her at some point. Even Clint had mentioned that with her bike. Bucky brought it back for her. He knew there was a chance she was coming back.

There was no question that things were different. Her truth was out and Bucky knew she was a part of Hydra. He had been there for her when she woke up in one of the spare rooms and didn’t leave her until they got to the interrogation room. It was easy to fall into place with him during the mission. They had kissed and the familiarity and hunger within it felt like it was a start to mending things. 

So why did her body act as if it was bracing for a goodbye?

“I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind.” He said after a moment of watching her. When she didn’t say anything in response, he began to worry. “Please, say something. Anything...”

He knew she wasn’t pulled into some memory. She was moving around, in a small radius at that, and looking around at things. But she was lost in her thoughts and he could see that her eyes hadn’t drifted off to somewhere else. They may still hold the emptiness he saw earlier, but she was still there with him.

He watched as she looked over at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she closed it again. She ran a hand along her face and Bucky could see she was having trouble with whatever she was trying to say. 

Standing, Bucky closed the distance between them and placed his hands gently on her arms, trying to bring her some comfort. “You can say anything you need to. First thing that comes to mind.”

“Do you even want me here?” She asked after a few seconds. His shocked expression told her he hadn’t been expecting her to say. 

“I am so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t.” He said as he brought his right hand up to her cheek. “Before the last twenty four hours, the last few things I said to you were out of anger and hurt. My apology should have been the first thing I said once we got you back.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize for a reaction that anyone else would have given.”

“But I never should have made you leave.” He sighed softly. “Yes, I needed time. I needed space to process it all. I couldn’t bring myself to just easily forgive you. The others didn’t believe it. From the moment I told them, they pieced together a whole list why you weren’t a danger to us and hadn’t been for a while.” He shook his head. “But I was stubborn and I didn’t see it the same way they did.”

Her eyes met his. “Can I ask when it changed for you?”

There was a small tug at the corner of his lips. “After a stakeout with Sam.”

His words caused a small smile to pull at her lips at his words. “Not the same?”

“No, not at all.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek and she leaned into it. “That was when I realized I was missing you. By the next mission, I knew I wanted to start helping to look for you. But by then, you hadn’t been at a safehouse for over six months. I even had a horribly rehearsed apology for when I did find you.” Her eyebrow raised but he continued. “I would have told you how sorry I was for treating you the way I did. That I should have taken your offer of space instead of forcing you to leave, on your birthday of all days. That I am sorry for digging into your past instead of just coming to you and asking you. I’m sure I still would have been angry, but I wouldn’t have made the huge mistake of letting you go. And because of that mistake you found yourself in a situation you couldn’t escape from.”

“Bucky,” She placed her hand on top of his. “What happened out there was bound to happen. If not out there, it would have been while here or on a mission. I am a weapon who doesn't have their free will. I am a piece of property that-”

“You aren't.” He cut her off. “Not any more. You belong to yourself. No one else is going to take that away from you.” His eyes met hers and he could see the uncertainty within them. “I will do everything I can to make sure you never have to worry about that again. The others will help, you know that right?” 

The words settled over her for a few moments before she nodded her head. Yes she knew they would do everything they could to help keep her from being used as she had. But the same thoughts played through her mind. There would always be others who would try.

Others that would try to continue the work of Hydra in some form or another. And if she was being honest with herself, there was the possibility they would come for her. How many times would the team be willing to keep her from being captured. How many times until they’d give up entirely and not want her there. 

“There is another way.” Bucky said, pulling her from her thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” She asked. 

“You’re worried about several factors.” He noted. “I’ve been where you’ve been. You’re already thinking about how much danger you’ll put the rest of us in. Or how many times it will take until we decide it’s too much.” He watched as her shoulders fell slightly. “But there is another way we can do this to make sure you feel as free as you need to feel.”

“How?” She asked curiously. “It's not like-” She stopped herself as she realized what he meant. “Would they even want to help me?”

“I’m sure they would.” It was with those words Bucky noticed the briefest spark return in her eyes. It was something she could hold onto. A promise that she could be rid of the side of her that could easily be controlled. “I’ll get in contact with T’Challa and see what we can do.”

“Thank you.” She said with a small nod. She wasn’t even sure what else she could say besides that. As much as she wanted to begin to hope that this would really be the end of it all, she knew there was a possibility that they could be turned down. And getting her hopes up to be let down was the last thing she wanted to do. 

“It's the least I can do.” He said, giving her a small smile. 

She sighed softly. There was one more thing weighing on her mind. “Where does this leave us? We were in a moment earlier and I’m not expecting things to go back to the way they were.”

He nodded his head. She had a point. As easy and comfortable as it has been since she was back to just wanting to be near her like this, he knew it was going to be different in more ways than one. 

“One day at a time.” He promised. “If we find that this isn’t what we want anymore, then we’ll be okay. But if this is something we want to try, it will be like a fresh start. Everything is out on the table. We’ll make it work.” A small chuckle passed his lips as a thought crossed his mind. He took a step back and held out his right hand towards her. “I’m James.”

She laughed as she began to bring her hand up to place in his. But she stopped just before her hand met his. Reality crashing within her mind. Her eyes met his as she placed her hand in his. “I don’t know who I am. I’ve gone by so many names that I don’t know which is the right one to give.”

The amusement that had been on his face had been replaced by a small reassuring smile. “I’ll help you figure that out. Whoever or whatever you want to be, I’ll be there with you while you learn who you are.” 

While his words had been comforting that this was her chance of starting over, there was something deep within her that told her it wasn’t going to be that easy. How could she choose what to become when she only knew death and destruction for a majority of her life?

<< Interrogations || Phantom Masterlist || Phantom Playlist || Set Me Free >>

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[fancyfeathers]

Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Previous Chapter <- Interlude II, Lemon Ice Cream -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Barry Allen's Darling!Reader

This is different from a full chapter, think of interludes in this story as flashbacks to when things were normal, or as normal as they could be, before the main story that will share important information about our protagonists. Interludes will be told from the perspective of the darlings/wives/partners of the Justice League

You sat on the couch in your living room, a notepad and pen in your hand, you were meal planning for the week, making a list of groceries for your husband, Barry, to pick up from the store after work. While you were meal planning for the week, it would take three or four trips to the grocery store throughout the week. After all, it took a lot to keep a speedster fed, given his unnaturally high metabolism, and you thanked god every day that you only had one to deal with, absolutely overjoyed when your daughter was born without any speed-related powers, and did not show any unusual signs of developing his powers sixteen years later, your perfectly normal, sweet girl. Your ears perked up when you heard the lock on the front door turning, followed by the door opening and closing. You could hear the sound of your husband taking off his jacket and setting his backpack on the hooks near the front door, next to your daughter’s school backpack. His footsteps echoed through the front entryway and into the other end of the living room. Your husband smiled at you when he saw you sitting on the couch.

“One sec.” One moment, Barry was standing in the living room doorway, and the next he was changed out of his button-up and slacks and changed into sweatpants and a long-sleeved sweater. You could hear the sound of the washing machine starting up, making you guess that he had thrown the hamper of dirty laundry in your shared bedroom into the washing machine along with the clothing he was wearing. You felt a sudden shift behind you, your husband had moved to sit sideways on the couch, his back resting against the armrest and his legs extended out on the couch, he had ever moved you to sit in between his legs, your back pressing against and resting his chest. You even felt your own clothing being changed into one of your pajama sets, a pink pajama shirt and pink pajama pants, slippers placed on your feet and a blanket thrown over you both, all of that in less than a second. “That’s more comfortable, right, babe?”

“You snuck a peek, didn’t you?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” You felt his chin rest on top of your head, his arms wrapping around you and under your arms. “I checked the house, guessing little Jellybean is out?”

“She went on a run and met up with some friends afterwards, I think.”

“Friends? What friends?”

“Some of her friends on the cross country team, she is trying out for the team on Friday, don’t you remember?” You sighed as you saw the embarrassed expression come across his face, realizing that he had forgotten. “Barry, you forgot.”

“I’m sorry, it’s… It’s been a busy week.”

“A busy week as Barry Allen, the forensic scientist, or a busy week as the Flash, the fastest man alive?”

“Babe-”

“Look, I get that you are busy… you're a member of the Justice League and the police department, but you wanted to be a father, and right now your daughter is growing up and you're going to miss it.” You sighed and set aside the notepad and pen, resting them on top of your thigh, which was covered by the blanket. “I want to go to her events, but I can’t, so you have to be… You have to slow down because she can’t keep up with you.”

“I know… just everything has picked up these last few months and I do this to keep you both saf-” Your husband was cut off my the sound of his phone ringing on the coffee table which he must have set it in his rush, and you could see the contact name on the screen, Jellybean, the nickname he had given your daughter along with Sweetpea, Lovebug, Chipmunk, or just Bean for short. You spot a look at him, a silent demand that he answer the phone with the same speed he just used. You watched as he grabbed his phone, swiping the green button and turning on the speaker phone so you both could hear and talk to her. “Hi, sweetpea-”

“Daddy… I…” You could practically hear your sixteen-year-old daughter hyperventilating over the line, making your heart sink to your gut. “I… I don’t know where I am…”

“Okay, take a deep breath, calm down…” Barry spoke to her over the line, remaining calm as his brow knitted into a concerned and serious expression. You suppose he had experience with this sort of thing, saving hostages and civilians as the Flash, a superhero. You could hear her breath somewhat even out over the phone over a few seconds before Barry spoke up once again. “Alright, I need you to describe where you are-”

“The desert.”

“...I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m in the middle of the desert, Dad.” Your eyes shot up to look up at your husband’s expression, which was just pure shock, mouthing swear words under his breath. “Dad… are you there?”

“Yes… yes, I’m here…” He paused in his words for a moment, thinking over what he should do next. “I’m going to have to hang up, I have to call someone, I will be right there, but I need you to stay calm and stay where you are. Think you can do that, Jellybean?

“Ya… I can.”

“Alright, I love you.” You watched your husband press the red end call button before dialing up another person, so stressed that he forgot to turn off the speaker phone as he stood up, which made you sit up as he paced the living room as the phone dialed and the person on the other end of the line answered to Barry’s relief. “Hey Bruce, I need a very important favor.”

“It better be or-”

“My daughter got my speed, and now she is in the middle of the desert with no idea how to get home, and I need you to track her phone’s location so I can find her and bring her home.” There was a silence on the other end of the phone, making Barry stop his pacing for a moment. “Bruce, are you-”

“She’s in Yuma County, Arizona.” The voice on the other end of the line answered, cutting your husband off. “I’ll send you her exact coordinates, but you should have her taken to Star Labs so we can-”

“Bye, thank you, Bruce.” You watched as your husband hung up the phone, and you could not even blink before your husband was changed into his red and yellow suit. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, barely having time to process his words before he was out the door. “Love you…”

You glanced over to the clock on the living room wall, counting down the seconds like you did until he would return, a habit of yours whenever your husband ran out the door as the Flash. The record longest you counted was twenty-one thousand six hundred seconds. But so much having a normal daughter, looks like you would have to change your life to fit in two people with superhuman abilities. It took ninety seconds before the door opened, closed, and locked, and Barry was standing just outside the living room doorway, in the hallway that led to the bedroom you shared with your husband and your teenage daughter’s own bedroom, where Barry was carrying in his arms. Your daughter looked absolutely terrified as she clung to her dad, her eyes wide, swollen, and puffy with tears, and her body was shaking. No, shaking was the wrong word; she was practically vibrating in pure stress, fear, and overstimulation. You could see that Barry’s eyes were filled with concern, the red cowl of the Flash suit pulled down, most likely a million thoughts running through his mind of what to do. You went to stand up, to check on how your little girl was doing, but as soon as you started to move, Barry looked at you and sternly shook his head no, a silent urge and demand that you stay where you are. He walked down the hallway, down to your daughter's bedroom, and you looked back at the clock and started counting once again.

You counted three hundred and forty-six seconds before Barry walked back into the living room, alone this time, a solemn expression on his face as he came to sit down on the couch down next to you in the red suit. “Well… she is like me now…” 

“Barry…” 

“I’m going to call the school in the morning, call her in sick for the rest of the week… I’ll see if someone can cover my work on the CSI team to… spend the week on how to control it, manage it…”

“And for now, what about tonight?”

“Don’t worry about it…”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen, if you do not tell me, then I swear to god I am going to cut up that dress you just got me.”

“I got you that for our anniversary…”

“Do not test me, not when it comes to our daughter.”

“Before I picked her up… I ran to the Hall of Justice and picked up an inhibitor collar from storage…”

“Inhibitor collar?”

“It… It’s a collar originally designed for inmates at Belle Reve Penitentiary to disable powers essentially-”

“Barry!”

“She doesn’t know how to control her speed right now; she is scared.”

“That doesn’t mean you put a collar on her like a dog! That probably makes her feel even more terrified!”

“It’s just for tonight.”

“And you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Sweetheart-”

“You are going to spend this week with your daughter, and if I even see you put on that suit again or anything else to do with the Justice League, then you are on the couch for a month… you can be late to piano recitals because there is a fire and miss school plays because some ice fucker is robbing a bank, but you are going to stay and help her and I don’t care is the goddamn ocean is on fire, do I make myself clear?”

“...Ya… yes.”

“Good…” You stood up from the couch and turned your back on your husband as you turned down the hallway, marching down to your own bedroom, walking past your daughter’s bedroom. You paused for a moment, standing outside the closed door, listening to the silence from within, a clear sign that your daughter needed her space right now. You hesitantly stepped away from the door, walking down the hallway towards your room, but then you heard her bedroom door open. You turned around to see her looking at you, standing there, now just shaking instead and her eyes all red.

“Mom…”

“You want to sleep by me tonight?”

“Ya…” You smiled at her whispered word, opening your arms out to her, which she tucked herself into your embrace, the cold metal of the inhibitor collar brushing against your arm, sending more shivers down your spine. “Can… can we watch movies tonight… dad, me, and you…”

“Sure, sweetheart…”

“Can we have ice cream too?”

“You are really trying to milk this, aren’t you?”

“...ya.”

“Alright, I’ll have your dad run to the store to pick up what you want, lemon ice cream is your favorite still, right?"

“Ya... thanks, Mom.”

…so much for Barry sleeping on the couch.

[skeletonh0e]

oh i saw the ace hcs so i could ask for the boys (platonic) with a lesbian reader who was really obvious they were a lesbian? just short hcs like the ace one hehe

reader: ok fine i’m a homosexual

all sanses gave this a Yeah.

Oh sweet! First platonic ask! So the route I'm assuming this is meant to take was the reader was closeted but like very poorly hiding? Got you!

Fem Reader with she/her pronouns obviously but otherwise no specific indication of gender identity

The Boys & A Lesbian Reader

Classic Sans:

Lesbe honest here, he probably knew the moment he looked at you

Between Undyne and Alphys gaydar is at peak, he knew even before you two were officially friends

He's happy you told him obviously but it's painfully clear this is a non issue for him

Might occasionally help wingman in his own Sans way with the ladies but yeah

You got his support boo

Underswap Sans:

Y/N: "Blue, I'm lesbian."

Blue: "I thought you were human???"

It'll click in a bit once you explain a bit which then it's just an "oooooh I knew that!"

Yeah you ain't slick you might as well have told him you need oxygen to breath

Now, stop thinking about girls and help him with this sick puzzle he's making!

Underfell Sans:

"no fuckin' shit."

Literally anytime he checked out some hot babes you were right there with him

Doesn't take a mind reader

And he probably would have hit on you at least once by now if you weren't cuz again this man is sleazy

Otherwise just expect a lot of "eating out" and pussy related jokes, but they're all in good fun

Underlust Sans:

You like girls? Sweet. He does too

Let's get some lattes and talk about them

He's not gay but he has some gay best friend energy for sure, so he's glad you figured it out but boo what took you so long?

Either way, he's definitely your wingman 100%

With his help you'll be a chick magnet in no time

Horrortale Sans:

Cool.

What do you want for dinner?

Zero fucks given, probably knew for a long ass time but he doesn't give any indication about that

Admittedly even in a platonic sense he's a little protective though

Any girl breaks your heart, let him know alright?

Fresh Sans:

The only one here that didn't figure it out!

He's kind of oblivious to sexuality in general, it applies to everyone really. So after a brief explain

"sweeeeet! wanna go skateboard?"

And that's that

Might get the occasional "is that your girrrrlfrriiiiieeend?" type teasing cuz this man is hella immature

Killer Sans:

"Explains why all your other friends are pussies then huh?"

Smack him he deserves it

Lowkey a toxic friend, why do you like him? Did you expect him to treat this with any form seriousness?

The jokes Classic and Red make are amplified here combined with the preschool teasing Fresh does

Do not let any future girlfriends meet him you will end up loveless

Dust Sans:

Shrugs

Literally has no reaction

Y/N: "You're not surprised?"

Dust: *proceeding to give you the most 'are you fr?' look possible*

But yeah this changes nothing, might get a little protective in a "Don't break my friends heart vein" but less intense than Axe is about it

Nightmare Sans:

Y/N: "I like women and only women."

Nightmare: "And I had sexual relations with Killer."

Y/N: ".....what?"

Nightmare: "Were we not stating the obvious?"

Unclear how serious he's being or if he's one hundred percent messing with you, otherwise just pats your head and goes off about his business

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Well, I certainly won't say no to ripping his head clean off, and I will not be pouring that toxic sludge he calls blood down my throat like an energy drink," Bill said.

"I suppose I'm not entirely opposed to him making our job easier either," Leofric said, "But best not to get overly confident now, William. While I feel that we have favourable odds, we mustn't be complacent now."

"Heh, I guess he's pretty like one," Travis agreed with Veronica.

"I sure am," Bill said, before he then summoned a couple more tentacles and shaped them into a peacock's tail feathers, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful."

Bill then laughed a little bit at Rook's comment.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Bill said, "and Lucien got a good roll on the perception check."

Travis also moved to step over, as did Bill. It seemed that it really was so far so good. They were covering good ground, and it appeared that Five hadn't yet detected them.

Of course, that could change at any moment.

"You don't look it in the mouth," Simon said. The tone of his voice suggested that he was smiling.

He certainly couldn't complain about it.

Simon was keeping an eye on everything else as he watched through the cameras. Crosshair was the only one who knew they were here so far. But it was true that the sound of the gun would get Five's attention.

Antonio would have loved to given a snarky comment in response, but there wasn't going to be any time for that. He was too aware that Crosshair was the kind of person who would take her shot as soon as he could.

He signalled for Russell to stay where he was, and with hardly warning, a large green cat's paw shot up and grew from his right hand. When it was about the size of a standard tree branch, it then launched itself at Crosshair.

Russell gripped the crowbar tightly in his hand, ready to act if he had to. Even if it seemed like Crosshair was outnumbered and outweaponed, she might have had another trick up her sleeve.

"Well, I hope he didn't wake up with a death wish today specifically." Rook scoffed.

"Not that we would really mind, if he did." Lucien said quietly.

"We will worry about it once the issue presents itself." Veronica told both, before poking one of Bill's tentacles, "Perhaps a peacock would have been more appropriate after all."

It could be said that the ghost lady was quite literally in good spirits. She had gotten so used to working alone that simply having some company made her a little less annoyed than usual about having to kick another rich idiot's ass who had dared hurting her daughter.

Besides, being relaxed let her keep a closer eye on the others. For instance, she could tell by Lucien's stance that his attention was elsewhere. Not that she could blame him for worrying about Russell, she was also hoping she wouldn't be spending the rest of the night extracting bullets.

Lucien nodded slightly, before stepping over the wire with ease. "It'd be nice to turn these hazards against Five." he suggested, before getting back to work.

"I can't believe we're walking through a real life Skyrim dungeon." Rook joked, hopping over it.

Erica kept her head down as she rushed upward, letting the vibrations guide her while her eyes were covered by the hood. With Willow about to strike, there wasn't much time to check on the others, but she made sure to leave a few extra footholds for them in case they felt daring enough to follow through her shortcuts.

"You know what they say about looking at the horse's mouth, Simon." Though she appreciated him playing some music after all. Willow most likely was too

Who knows, maybe Crosshair would have liked it as well in a different situation. She didn't fall for the mask, but she quickly understood Willow meant business. While the katana was an issue, the sniper's panic really showed when she spotted Antonio. As much as they had all laughed at Five's misery for a full week, she didn't want to try her chances with any of that mind stuff herself.

Still, that didn't mean she'd try being nice about it. She pulled a pistol out of her jacket.

"Oh, there's Five's senpai too." she said after pulling out another gun, "I never thought I’d be shooting a catboy, but I guess there's a first time for everything."

Willow raised her sword while she stepped into Crosshair's line of fire to shield the others.

"It was a bad idea to come up here." Crosshair added, "I'm a good shot up close too and the second I pull the trigger, Five is going to know you're here."

Erica growled and got ready to pounce.

[radioactive-cloud]

was thinking about this moment (as one does) and... can we talk about how even after jan flicks his tongue nace stays there for second before leaning back?

also what were nace's intentions? did he lean in for a smooch? a kissy kiss on the lips? did he want to tease jan? to tease the audience? what was his reasoning? this moment haunts me and consumes my every waking thought

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀❞

a/n: i'm going insane guys anyway love u all mwah <333333 afab body but no gendered language btw!

part two.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ GOJO SATORU

▸ creampies. please just let this man cum inside of you omg he'll go insane. seeing the way his release leaks out of you afterward has him ready for another round almost immediately.

▸ dacryphilia. "you crying'?" says it all right there. he'll coo, a bit mocking, and wipe at the tears running down your cheeks.

▸ size difference. he's so big compared to you. his height, his hands, his dick. he gets off on it so hard seeing you have to look up at him :(

▸ praise (giving + receiving). he'll charm your panties off if you really want, just make sure to let him know how good he's fucking you, too.

▸ overstimulation. hand in hand with dacryphilia. he's not done with you until he's shooting blanks and you're a weeping mess below him.

▸ breeding. listen.. he needs an heir for the gojo clan. he'll fuck you into the mattress for hours on end- he just wants to make sure his baby takes, that's all.

▸ orgasm denial. he's a cocky man, and he knows it. he loves the exhilaration he gets controlling your orgasm, making you beg for it before he gives you any satisfaction.

▸ pussy/thigh/boob jobs. he wants to put good use to all of your body.

. *. ⋆ GETO SUGURU

▸ choking. the feeling of you swallowing as his large hands cusp at your neck is like a drug to him.

▸ begging. seeing you so compliant under him as you plead and cry for his touch... those pretty little eyes and wobbling lip. it's mean, he knows that. he just couldn't care less.

▸ sense deprivation. tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him all that power? he goes crazy for it.

▸ degradation. you wanna be fucked like a slut, he's gonna treat you like one.

▸ edging. when he's feeling really mean, he'll edge you for hours. until you're shaking and whining and the only word you can get out is a broken moan of his name.

▸ impact play. he loves waking up and seeing the red imprint of his hand on your ass oh my godddd don't get him started.

▸ hair pulling (receiving). he wants you to tug at his hair, card your fingers through it, pull it as you're riding his face!!!

▸ sadism. pretty much hand in hand with everything above. he's such a mean boyfriend but he knows how much you love it.

. *. ⋆ CHOSO KAMO

▸ biting. your shoulders, neck, and thighs are full of his teeth marks, almost perpetually. and of course he's not gonna complain if you leave a few bites, too.

▸ begging. show him how much you want him, how badly you need him, and he'll fuck you as much as you want. you just gotta put in a little work first.

▸ worship (giving + receiving). seriously this man worships the ground you walk on from the moment you wake up to the second you fall asleep. he just asks you worship his cock the same

▸ overstimulation. he's fuckin you until his legs are giving out from under him and you're nothing but a fucked out, drooling mess being pressed into the bed.

▸ blood play. i mean... i think this is a given.. will purposefully bite down too hard just to lick the blood clean as an apology.

▸ orgasm denial. he knows once you cum, it's over, and he just wants to stay sat in your pretty pussy a little bit longer- you understand that, right?

▸ somnophilia. his favorite breakfast is in between your thighs. besides, you don't think there's any better way to wake up, anyway.

▸ voyeurism. pleaseeee pleaseee pleaseee let him watch you masturbate it's all he needs in this world !!!!!

. *. ⋆ SUKUNA RYOMEN

▸ anal. he needs to claim every hole your body has to offer. plus true form sukuna is a slut for his double penetration just saying

▸ choking. hearing your choked gasps as he squeezes your throat could make him cum on the damn spot. watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as each second passes on.

▸ exhibitionism. no, he doesn't care that there are other curses around and no, he doesn't care if they can see. you're his, and he'll fuck you anywhere he wants to.

▸ extreme bondage. watching your poor, writhing little human body tug at your restraints uselessly is something he'll never get tired of.

▸ collaring. he'll even get his name custom engraved, just so everyone who looks at you know exactly who you belong to.

▸ degradation. he's a mean thing, but you seem to enjoy that for some reason. he savors in the way you clench around him every time he calls you a whore.

▸ edging. you're not allowed to cum until he's says so, and anything before that? you're in for one hell of a night.

▸ predator/prey. let him chase you through the woods as foreplay. he'll inevitably catch up, of course, but seeing you attempt to get away is so cute to him. especially when he's had enough of the teasing and is pinning you against the nearest tree.

[444venicebitch444]

a/n: ty guys so much for all the love on my last post, i absolutely wasn’t expecting it. probably gonna write something about joel miller in the next few days. if you have requests, send away, ly!

simon riley who gets a new neighbour that won’t keep her fucking blinds closed. 

he'd seen the moving truck, a pretty bird thanking the movers and hadn’t thought much of it; he wasn’t one to make conversation with his neighbors, so he minded his own business. 

or at least he tried, but it was real fucking difficult when he could see through your windows at any god given moment.

at the beginning it wasn’t even intentional, he actually found himself getting annoyed at how exposed you were. did you have no fucking self preservation sense, letting anyone and everyone look into your house? christ, people these days.

but then the fascination creeped in and he couldn’t help but let his eyes travel to you. watching as you sat on the couch on your phone, watching tv, reading, whatever. 

he observed as you came home from work, talking on your phone way too loudly for his liking, or laughing like the girls he always found insufferable in school when your friends came over. 

after only a few weeks he put a name, and every other thing there was to know, to the pretty face. not like it was hard: you had your name on your mailbox, public social media profiles, and readily available professional and academic information on the first page of his google search.

simon knew it was weird, that he should stop watching, maybe mention your lack of blinds to you, but he couldn’t. not when he saw you undressing in a way that felt like you knew he was watching, like you were doing this on purpose, teasing him. 

he tried telling himself that this was a bloody mid-life crisis, that he was too bored after retiring and needed to pull his shit together, but it did little to quell his growing enchantment. 

so when he saw you struggling with your ground floor window, a rusted old thing he’d noticed quite a while ago, he exited his home withe the excuse of collecting his mail despite his mailbox being empty and shot a casual, gruff “everything all right?”

you were polite, sweet, assured him it was nothing, just the old house acting up, but he insisted. 

he pulled at the old wooden frame with big, calloused hands, your gaze inevitably slipping to his strong, ink covered bicep, the muscle flexing as the window finally budged.

he noticed your look, of course he did, and couldn’t suppress a tiny smirk as he stepped back, “there you go, love”.

you thanked him profusely, then introduced yourself, obtaining his name right back, and offered him a cup of tea, but simon wanted to take his time. he had to think with his head, not his cock, and make sure you were the right one before getting himself too invested.

so, despite every bone in his body wanting to do the opposite, he refused “maybe some other time”

“I’m holding you to that, simon” you smiled and the sound of his name dripping from your lips like the sweetest of honies almost made his knees buckle. 

after your interaction simon got more diligent, looking for anything wrong with you, anything to turn him away, to put a stop to this; but he couldn’t.

every bit of information he attained made him fall deeper, fed his growing love for you, validated the idea he had created in his head. you were bloody perfect for him.

so he did take you up on your offer of tea and biscuits, and showed up at your doorstep.  

the sight of you greeting him with a soft smile and wearing a pretty sundress almost had him throwing his self control out the window and just telling you how you were made to be his. but he resisted.

he was a little awkward, but in a strangely endearing way. he made you laugh (god, he would die a happy man if your laughter was the last thing he heard), and was respectful, polite. 

and obviously you found him attractive, you weren’t being exactly subtle: simon knew he wasn’t that funny and that there was absolutely no need for you to grab his arm as you giggled. 

simon held onto every touch, every laugh, every time his name left your mouth like a man starved, his chest warming at the realization that he might have a chance, that you might love him back if he made an effort.

and sure, he might’ve placed a tiny listening device under your coffee table while you made a second kettle of tea, but that was just because he wanted to understand you better. to know how to please you, how to make you happy.

the ego boost he go from it a few days later as he listened in on your phone call was just a bonus. he couldn’t help the smile that decorated his face as you ranted to you friend, “he’s, like, unbelievably hot, build like a fucking tank. and sweet too! i know fucking your neighbour isn’t a good idea but christ”.

so you could imagine his surprise when he saw you come out of a car that wasn’t yours, an arm that wasn’t his around your waist. when the wanker kissed you at your doorstep, practically eating your face off, his fists clenched, blunt nails leaving bloody crescent moons on his palm.

who the fuck was that bloke? what the fuck were you doing? didn’t you like him? hadn’t you said that-

simon took a deep breath. he needed to calm down. 

this wasn’t your fault, of course it wasn’t. you didn’t know how he felt, he hadn’t told you yet, how were you supposed to know?

you were his sweet, little bird, you’d never do anything to purposely hurt him. you weren’t like that.

so any ounce of anger towards you disappeared as soon as it appeared. that man, though?

the entire night, simon seethed. he’d closed his curtains but the image of him around you was burned on the front of his brain and he fantasised. fantasised about being the one driving you home, kissing you, pulling you upstairs, tasting you, burying himself into you as you screamed out his name. fantasised about crushing that man’s skull, cutting him up limb by limb, making him eat his own tongue, teaching him to keep it in his mouth instead of letting it slip into yours.

but simon wasn’t one to just steep in his fury, he did something about it. 

so in the morning, as soon as he saw you and the asshole go downstairs, he turned the volume up on the laptop hooked to the listening device as he got dressed.

the guy offered to make you breakfast, and simon’s eyes damn near fell from his skull at how fast they rolled.

“that’s…nice, but I have to go to work, micheal” your voice came out static-y from the old computer, but the annoyance in it was unmistakable. simon knew you didn’t work on saturdays and it made him grin: you didn’t even like the bloke, you just needed a shag. and while simon didn’t exactly approve the way about which you went about it (i mean, he was literally across the street, love), he could understand that.

had you thought of him while he fucked you? had you imagined his strong arms around you? his cleft lip against your plush ones?

simon realised something good had come out of your little hook up: it had given him a courage of sorts. you were his, not this man’s who he was sure hadn’t fucked you right, who certainly didn’t love you as much as he did, and who wasn’t even enjoyable enough to keep around for breakfast.

so that same afternoon, he knocked on your door, had another cuppa and finally asked you on a date, being met with the brightest smile you’d given him as of yet, and making you promptly forget about micheal.

which was good because simon really didn’t want you knowing about how micheal hadn’t shown up to work the next day and the police had found his car abandoned, specs of blood on the seat.

[jinwoosungs]

03/08/25; 08:15pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ “just the tip!” ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes and warnings: bite-sized thirsts; slight voyeurism

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus’s breath felt against your ear causes a surge of heat to course through you.

“come on, kitten… just let me slide into you… just the tip to help with easing the ache.”

you tremble, with your front pressed against the cold wall as the party continued within the luxurious venue. you whimper against him, weakly shaking your head despite feeling the way your resolve was quickly crumbling from beneath his heated gaze. “sylus, we can’t! thousands of people are out there. we could be found out at any moment!”

he hums, yet continues to press himself over your warm body. “i can’t help it. you look so beautiful beneath the intimate glow of the moonlight. i need you, sweetie.”

you roll your eyes upon hearing his theatrics, “come on, sy. can’t you hold on for a few more hours?”

“absolutely not…” you could practically hear the smirk in sylus’s voice, his large hand making its steady descent toward the spot between your legs before casually cupping it. your breathing hitches in response to such a touch, “i can feel how wet you are, kitten. you’re responding beautifully to my own desires.”

and when he slides a thick digit within your heat, giving your swollen clit a gentle pinch, all of your prior inhibitions fade away with you nearly falling to the ground had it not been for sylus’s grasp on your waist.

“f-fine, but you better keep your promise and only slide in the tip!” you eventually cave into him, allowing sylus to further seduce you with his heated caresses against your slick walls. flashing you a wolfish grin as he carefully slid your panties down, revealing your aching cunt to him. the shifting of fabric was heard as sylus zips down his pants, revealing his cock to you.

pressing your front against the wall once more, you let out a breathy moan, feeling his cockhead tracing at your outer lips, collecting the moisture left from your arousal while groaning into your ear.

“fuck, you feel so good… even when it’s just the tip…” you felt the way sylus dips into you, simply basking in such a sensation before your eyes go wide-

achingly aware of how sylus kept sliding the tip even further inside of you, practically kissing at your womb now as the onychinus leader was fully sheathed within you.

“hah… you lied to me!”

forced to keep your moans to a minimum, you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling sylus make quick pounds into you, his grin widening even further as he basks in how your warmth surrounded his cock. “hn, this was no lie, kitten… since i made my intentions clear from the start. my cock will always slide into the deepest parts of you…”

surrendering yourself to the red hot pleasure sylus had given you, you continue your sinful acts away from the crowd, finding excitement at the thought of potentially getting caught.

“hn… just the tip, honey… just the tip.”

zayne’s voice takes on a deeper tone, laying you back against your shared bed. you had fallen into his sweet trap-

fallen for the facade of being a concerned lover who only wished to ensure that you were healthy.

yet here you were, with your hair askew while remaining utterly naked for him. he had spent hours prepping you for this moment, your breasts aching from the sheer amount of wet kisses he had littered against your skin. you could feel the ache between your legs, becoming almost painful now in response to zayne’s ministrations.

“just the tip?” you ask your lover in a drunken manner.

“just the tip.” zayne confirms before settling himself between your legs. while you were bare for his hungry gaze, zayne was still dressed in his suit and slacks, simply pulling down his pants to free his erection before pulling you by your ankles.

you let out a soft mewl, feeling the tip of his cock tracing at your lips before slowly entering you. his pants kept echoing within your ear, with zayne bracing himself over you on the bed as he explored your heat with the tip of his cock alone.

“hn… you feel… good… perfectly healthy and… so silky soft…”

you whimper, clawing at the sheets below you as you couldn’t handle zayne giving you so little of him! letting out a soft moan of his name, you manage to slam your hips against him, taking every inch of him inside of you.

your actions causes both of you to toss your head back, with zayne now losing the entirety of his self-control as he fucked you into the bed with fervor.

you were sleeping peacefully within your boyfriend’s warm embrace, simply cuddling closer into him (your back meeting with his broad chest) when you felt the sensation of something poking at your backside.

letting out a groan, you hide your face even further into your pillow, still feeling a little tired. “xavier… you can’t be serious…”

the young hunter hums, pressing a few light kisses against your temple, “i can’t help it, starlight… you’re just too beautiful first thing in the morning.”

as if proving a point, you felt his erection seem to harden further in response, with his lips biting down on your earlobe. “can i just slide in the tip, starlight?”

heaving out a sigh, you agreed to it with a yawn, feeling xavier eagerly pull down your pajama bottoms. he lovingly traces at the outline of your panties, gently pulling it off to the side before pressing the tip of his erection into your heat.

it starts out simple enough-

xavier slides into you, bringing tiny pinpricks of pleasure to course through your veins. you grip at the sheets, basking in the sensation of xavier tracing at your walls with his cock-

and then suddenly, you feel the familiar sensation of your boyfriend pushing into you. you moan almost instinctively in response, your choked moans coupled along with your weak glare as you stole a glance at him. “xavi, you lied to me…ngh!”

xavier proceeds to lightly laugh in response, pressing another lingering kiss against your hair before proceeding to lift your leg, moving almost desperately in response as his pace quickens, slotting his cock rapidly in and out of you.

“sorry, starlight… i guess you felt so good that i couldn’t help myself.”

you should have known rafayel was up to no good when he made you sit on his lap for the entire duration of the movie. of course, the theater was crowded. the film that just released was a highly anticipated one, the last in a trilogy.

and while everyone was eager to finally watch the finale, rafayel kept whispering in your ear, “princess, come on. this film is so boring, and you look so seductive, sitting on my lap like that. please… let me just put the tip inside!”

“you’re the one who made me sit on your lap!” you tell the spoiled artist with a harsh whisper. but admittedly… the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed center was incredibly enticing.

you casually look around the area, realizing that everyone had their eyes glued to the screen. letting out a shaky breath, you slowly move your panties off to the side, giving your lover a come hither look.

seeing your expression causes rafayel to take action. he shifts his pants slightly, revealing his erection before quickly sheathing himself deep inside of you. the sensation of being suddenly full makes you gasp, “what…?! you l-lied to me-“

rafayel ends up burying his face within the curve of your neck, gently bouncing you up and down his cock as a devilish grin spreads across his face. “keep quiet okay, princess? i know the crowd is mesmerized by the movie, but the moment your pretty moans echo throughout the theater, it’s gonna be all over for us.”

you attended the banquet to celebrate caleb’s successful mission, simply relishing in the expensive catering when you felt your boyfriend wrap an arm around your waist, taking you away from the grand table lined up with food.

“caleb? where are we going?”

caleb leans down to harshly whisper against your ear, “as if i could stand not ravishing you when you’re in such a tight dress.” with an audible smack! felt on your backside, he leads you away from the dining hall and into the men’s restroom, immediately going into the largest stall before locking you both inside.

“caleb! you can’t be serious!”

“just the tip, okay?” caleb tells you with a lazy grin, hands tracing at your sides before sliding down your panties. “just the tip…”

letting out a huff, you run a hand through your hair, already knowing that you would give into him. “fine, but i’m allowing this only because you look so good in uniform.”

with a victorious smirk gracing his handsome features, caleb swiftly pulls down his pants, freeing his erection before tracing the mushroom tip of his cock against your slick walls. for the first few seconds, caleb keeps his promise of simply sliding in the tip. he kept teasing you, pressing his cockhead against your swollen clit while eliciting soft moans from you.

if felt as though something had snapped the moment your pretty moans entered his ears, causing his hips to surge forward, his cock now fully sheathed within you. a choked moan escapes from your parted lips, with caleb now swiftly pounding in and out of you while giving you weak apologies.

“s-sorry baby, you just felt so good that i couldn’t help myself. you’ll forgive me, right? i know my babygirl will always forgive me because she loves me, too.”

you cursed your inability to deny him of his wants and needs, knowing damn well that he was right.

end notes: lmao it’s never just the tip with our lads men 🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[muntitled]

Hangman

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: What's a broke girl to do when her university bills keep piling up and a sadistic Salesman offers to take all her problems away? All at one tiny little price.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Kidnapping, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Suicide, Restraints, Anxiety, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Oral Sex (m!rec), Deepthroating, Blood Kink

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

You hadn't initially intended on slitting your own wrist. That idea was birthed almost vicariously in the moment. If he hadn't stopped you, your corpse would have been found laying on a park bench, covered in its own wet blood that would have been dripping from its open wrist like a faucet. Surely his proposition would be better than that.

With your vision obstructed by a heavy blindfold, your hearing is ten times more prominent. You hear the sound of your own breathing, as if your body was taunting you with all the life it still begrudgingly held inside it. You also heard heavy yet elegant footsteps cross a marble floor. Then you hear the scratch of a vinyl as the very sounds of an orchestra bleeds into the atmosphere.

"Hello," said the Man in the gray suit who had accosted you in the park. You remember the way in which he had sat beside you.

No one had ever sat beside you. Not even any of your peers that roamed the university. Everything about your countenance was so worried and severe. You wore your money problems on your sleeves and that evidently warded off any chance of a social life you had hoped to have.

The moon was shining particularly bright and the stars were twinkling little spectators to your silent meltdown on the park bench. Your eyes had been reading and re-reading the email sent to you by the university. An urgent email amongst a sea of urgent emails begging you to 'please just pay them'.

"Don't slit your wrist," he had said, "Not before you've given yourself a chance to win at life first."

You had looked up at him with bloodshot eyes from all that crying over potentially getting kicked out of university. He hadn't melted at your expression, in fact he only smiled softly. "We ought to play a game-"

"I wasn't going to slit my wrist."

"You were just holding that boxcutter for fun, then?" He curled up an eyebrow, leading both of your gazes down to the pocket box cutter that sat in your lap, the blade extended.

"I'm not in the mood to play a game."

"Not even at the cost of your university fees?" Your eyes snapped up to him then. He sat a healthy distance away from you. The space between you both was filled with possibilities so endless it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe. "How much do you owe them now?"

"That's none of your business," you were on the verge of gathering your things. Your boxcutter and your pride.

Perhaps you could kill yourself somewhere else, preferably without a man accosting you about the embarrassing state of your funds.

"I could pay for your university fees, you know," His words morphed into an anchor, keeping your butt firmly planted to the park bench. A midnight runner passed by you two. An evening breeze blew through your scalp and the goosebumps descended.

"Of course, you'd have to win first."

Anyone could see the conflict warring within your irses.

"This is how people get sex trafficked," you'd said, "Absolutely no thank you," How utterly in control you had been! A girl with a firm head on her shoulders.

He only laughed then. He laughed and laughed, so much so he had to politely clear his throat.

"You were about to kill yourself. Don't pretend to have any self preservation now," his words had struck a cord deep within the inner workings of your soul. Your face heated as you hid yourself, tucking your chin against your chest. You did suddenly feel remarkably silly and so incredibly juvenile.

"Don't worry," he had said with an almost lopsided grin, "It's your lack of self preservation that I find so incredibly intriguing, hence I'm asking for one game."

It was only one game.

One game and if you were lucky enough to win, you might coast through the rest of university stress-free. Like a normal 20 year old with normal 20 year old problems. Boyfriends. Clubbing. Whatever else all those girls did when they huddled together in their magnificent little groups. You could be a part of them. For once you had to give yourself the opportunity of feeling like a member of society.

"Are these restraints a necessary element of our game?"

As you sit in this room- a room he had brought you too- blindfolded- you tell yourself that you are giving yourself a chance to be a normal 20 year old. That's why you were currently restrained to a leather chair. The restraints held your wrists to the armrests and your and your ankles to the feet of the chair. This led to the slight and uncomfortable spreading of your legs- a dangerously vulnerable position to be in when you were wearing nothing but a university jumper and a pleated skirt.

You quickly find out that you didn't like to be restrained.

Your chest rises and falls a little higher with every sharp intake of your breath as you will yourself into calmness. Freaking out now seemed completely silly.

Almost as silly as letting a stranger bring you to his hidden location.

Had you no sense of self preservation at all?

Were you a walking piece of meat, waiting for the first predator to sink its teeth into you?

Has that predator finally arrived?

"The restraints are unfortunately a necessary element.” He says, softly, “The human body tends to get jittery when it's met with unforeseen stimuli, and I don't want you running out on me."

That lets the panic solidify itself even more in your bones. This man walked as if he was a perfectly stand up guy and that helped in your decision of letting him bring you here.

Nothing seemed particularly wrong with him at first glance.

His face has all the workings of a perfectly normal man. He looked like he was in possession of a cushy, stable job with pensions and benefits. A salesman.

He looked like he attended his kids soccer matches on the weekends.

He looked married to a beautiful woman who looks good in mom jeans and baked brownies for her Wednesday night book club.

He looked so painfully normal.

But the panic is rising, the more that ‘danse macabre’ fills the room.

"C-Could you at least play something else," You are fidgeting now and it causes him to raise a brow. "Danse macabre is just," you attempt to swallow but your tongue is completely dry, "-incredibly unnerving, right now."

You try to massage your wrists in the restraints and you breathe through your nostrils as a phantom pain shoots through your legs. The need to move was eating you alive.

"You know your classical music," The man regarded you with slight intrigue as he folded the piece of material he had once used to obstruct your vision. He places it on a tiny coffee table before you. "Interesting for a kid your age. Do you know the story behind it?"

"Of course, I do, why do you think I'm nervous?" You had his full attention now. You were almost drowning in it as he lowered himself to a leather chair directly opposite you.

You had never had anyone listen to you as intently as he does. No one bothered to hear what you had to say. The voices in your head were your only audience…

Now you have someone seated before you, so lax as he urges you to, “Go on, explain why it makes you so nervous.” It was completely addicting.

“W-Well,” you swallowed the air again. “Danse macabre quite literally means dance of death,” he sits back in his chair, his fingers tapping against his mouth.

“Why?” he asks in deeply monotony, as if you had captured him as much as he, evidently captured hou. Like you weren't the only one in restraints.

Your brows furrowed “Is this quiz apart of the game-”

“No. I just want to hear you talk.” He says as he reaches over the side of his chair uncovering a sleek black briefcase veneered in expensive leather. He assures you with a single nod of his head that he's listening as he clocks open the briefcase.

“Well,” your eyes are on the whiteboard he pulls out, “Camille wrote this symphony all dark and depressing because it's supposed to sound like it's being played by death himself,”

The suited man smiles down at his busy hands as he lays your boxcutter on the coffee table beside the whiteboard. “I-It tells us that death is the great equalizer. It doesn't matter if you have money or you're about to be kicked out of university for insufficient funds-” he cracks a small smile at that, pulling out a whiteboard marker in the process, “the dance of death is inevitable for us all. Money can't buy you out of it.” You shake your head, “It's real medieval shit.”

You watch him smile again. It's devastatingly attractive which immediately raises the alarms in your own head. This man has restrained you in a chair, in an undisclosed location. For all you knew, death was very well the thing waiting for you at the end of all this.

But he wouldn't stop you from killing yourself, only to kill you himself, would he?

You'd heard about serial killers being raging narcissists. You would virtually be a lousy victim, having already wanted to die.

That thought calms you somewhat.

“We're going to play ‘Hangman’,” he turns the board to reveal a simple drawing of a gallow and a man hanging from it.

“Are you familiar with it?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, your nerves level somewhat at the sight of the little stick figure.

Just guess a letter to a mystery before the Hangman is drawn. These were children's games.

“For every word you get right, a semester of your studies is paid in full.” He smiles, warmly, watching the awe blossom across your face. “You'll get your degree and become the psychologist you've always wanted to be.”

Your brows furrow, “H-How did you know I-”

“Of course there's a penalty to the game,” you watch him erase the little stick figure, as he draws the little lines corresponding with the amount of letters in the mystery word. “If you don't guess the correct words in time,” Time stands still. “Well… The word get carved into your skin.”

You had never been a cautious individual. When your mother would fret and nag about your safety, you would roll your eyes. Everyone else always had self preservation for you. Why would you need it? Bad things rarely happen to boring people. The news coverage worthy stuff? You?

But here you were, fucking drowning in the Bad stuff.

"I'm not playing,” You begin to try and twist your wrist out of the restraints as your panicked eyes zero in on the blade seated on the desk. “I'm not fucking playing-”

“I'm afraid that isn't an option. What's your first letter?”

Despite the soundproof padding stylishly plastered against the sleek black walls you still scream "HELP-Oh my god- HELP”

He walks over towards you in large strides, clamping his hands in your skull and pulling your head back. He's much closer now. Closer than he had been at the park. His eyes are sparkling with intensity and a manic sort of quality that escaped you on your first meeting. Where were these eyes when you were still on that park bench, still able to choose to run far, far away to the nearest police station.

Where were these wild eyes then?

“Look at how scared you've gotten...” He laughs, in your face, “A scared, terrified little Doll-”

“Please let me go-”

“I'm not the one keeping you restrained here.” He lifts his hands as if he were completely crime-free, “You decided to play this game out of your own volition. You're restraining yourself, Doll”

“Jesus, that doesn't even make sense-” you cry, “HELP-”

He pulls a tighter grip around your hair, silencing your cries as a wince bleeds out of your instead..

“You don't wanna do that,” he says, staring deep into your glassy irses, “I have a thing for little girls with pretty tears-”

“Please don't hurt me-” you didn't wanna be a newspaper girl. You didn't want to be a nobody-turned-somebody because her death was so grisly it graced the front pages of a newspaper. That isn't the way your story was supposed to go and so you plead with the humanity inside him. You search for it under all that black ink filling his almond eyes.

Nothing.

They're absolutely black.

“Guess a letter, Doll."

You steal your nerves. Your shoulders slump.

“E-Every word has a vowel in it right?” his eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips against the side of your face. He seems like he's transforming into a completely different person right before your very eyes and it set you alight with fear.

Fear and something else.

“That's it, now we're getting somewhere,”

“I'll go with ‘A’,” a tense, mortifying silence stretches between you too. He begrudgingly removes his hand from your hair, patting down your head like the child he regressed you to as he strolled to the white board.

“Correct.”

He writes the letter ‘a’ twice on the little lines. The first one of the second line and the second one on the fourth line and almost with your brain slotting into place you raise your head. you wipe a stray tear on your shoulder before saying, “I-I- know what the word is.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Already?” Intuition was a scary thing. It was like a last resort, leaving you clamouring for hope.

“Care to share,”

“Is there an ‘r’” you look up at him. “I need to be sure.” Your legs are fidgeting in anxiety. Your fingernails dig into the leather under the armrest.

He is quiet as he draws an ‘r’ over the second last line.

“Macabre. The word is ‘macabre.’”

A slow almost predatory grin stretches across his face.

“How much did you say tuition was?”

Your heart stammers in its chest.

For those few moments you don't think about death. You don't think about blood. All you think about is that outstanding amount as you murmur a quiet, “₩3,893,852.”

You had it memorized.

The number that haunted your every waking hour, bleed from your lips like a prayer.

You watch as he lowers the white board marker to uncover a phone in his back pocket. He taps a few buttons and in a matter of moments- he turns his screen towards you.

What a remarkable day this had turned out to be.

“How do you know my banking details?,” you ask, squinting your eye at the screen, “Who are yo-”

“That round was too easy.” He moves to sit back down, “Here's your next word,” your heart falls when he only draws three lines underneath the gallow.

Three letter words could be the easiest or the most difficult when it comes to a game like this.

“A?’” you ask through wet lashes. Your only option was to hammer through the list of vowels.

“Ooh-” he pouts, before drawing a Hangman's head. “Try again.”

“E?”

He's silent as he draws a stick for The Hangman's body. The panic kickstarts once more.

“Shit-”

“That's not a letter?” He jests, “One more non-word and you're Disqualified, Doll.” His knee is bouncing up and down. As if everything in him was anticipating the end of the game. Your nerves are drowing in anxiety.

“I-”

“You can't just name every vowel under the sun, Doll. You don't have very many options remaining.” He draws the stick figures first arm.

4 chances left.

“O?” Your breath catches in your lungs. You watch as he throws his head back to lift his hips slightly, as if adjusting his pants. It almost immediately lowers your gaze to the prominent bulge there. Fuck. Not only was he anticipating your loss, he was getting off to the thought of it.

“Well done.” He writes ‘o’ in the second line. Right between the middle and end lines.

“Uh- ‘c’”

He adds another appendage to the stick figure. “3 more chances remaining.” He says, standing up. His arm jitters as he picks up the boxcutter in.

“G-” you ask through tears. He kneels in front of you, his eyes are almost as desperate as yours.

“You are the most fun I've had in years,” he admits, before turning to draw another appendage.

“Guess again, Doll,” the boxcutter extends and you cry.

“You don't have to do this,” You plead and he only sighs as he places his forehead against yours.

“You are such a brave little girl, you know that-”

“Oh my god-”

“2 more guesses.”

“‘T?” You squeak out so quietly, as your eyes squeeze shut.

He presses his lips to your right cheek and you melt. The fear all disappears and it's just you and him. Even on his knees, he's so large, so towering. It sets you alight with incomparable need.

“Well done, Doll- I'm so proud of you, " he sighs, “One more word, baby.”

“P- wait, No!" the sound barely makes it out of your mouth and looks down at you, chest rising and falling.

You hold your breath, eyes wide and wet and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Y- my answer is ‘Y’.” He exhibited all the signs of a sadist. Of course his word for you word be-

“That's my answer. “Toy”

A tense silence bleeds as he brings the boxcutter into your field of vision, and you're once again writhing in your seat. “Please- please no-”

“Fuck I'm gonna need to cum-” He admits gravely. Even more grave, even more harrowing, you're squirming in your seat. Lust balling deep within your cut. You're terrified but so utterly turned on.

Is masochism a symptom of loneliness?

“Please-”

He presses the blade to your leg and you both watch as he sinks the tip down onto your skin. For all those moments, you revel in the pain. The blade breaks skin and you cry out as droplets of blood grows pregnant along your thigh. Danse macabre crescendos and tears fall. As he swipes his finger along the drop of crimson.

“D-Did I not get it right?"

“”You got it right,” he admits, undoing the buttons of his blazer as he stands to his heavy feet once more. The menacing shadow of a God. He's humongous and you crane your neck back to look at him.

“my little winner-” he mumbles, planting a heavy hand on your head as his other hand rubs over his erection.

“I-If I got it right,” you mumble through your sniffles, “Th-Then why did you cut me?”

He looks down at you. The hand planted on your head moves down to the side of your face as he unzips his pants. Your heart is banging out of its cage as he lowers his pants just enough to have his hand slipping into his boxers.

He watches the blood smudged across your thigh.

“I just-” he curses as he uncovers his fully erect cock, leaking precum,“I just wanted to see your blood.” he admits gravely before bringing his cupped hand to your lips.

'Spit.’ He commands.

You're unable to look away. The precum beading the head of his cock slides down the thick veins along the length of it- all the way to the base. You want him in your mouth. Inside you. The need and the pain is an avalanche of contradictions.

He makes you feel so scared, so wanted.

“Don't make me ask again.” He says darkly, tilting your head up to look deep into his eyes.

His fingers prod at your lips and your mouth falls open as his hand delves inside. “Tongue out.” He whispers hoarsely, cursing once again when you roll your tongue out. Somehow incredibly obedient.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, Doll?” He asks, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips. You nod cautiously, feeling yourself descend into a state of mind you'd never been at before. You feel so pliant with his hand still on your cheek as he guides his cock into your mouth. You feel completely reckless. Someone like you who spends her time studying and worrying. Right now you were made to feel completely empty.

“That's it-” he coos, looking so utterly pained as his cock slides against your tongue, “That's my Doll,” he thrusts in and out of your mouth and you just sit there. Quite literally a doll. You let him use you, feeling more useful now than you've ever felt in all your years of living. There is beauty in submission that has a wet spot forming along your panties. You writhe as he begins to fuck your throat, drawing out a moan from him in the process.

“Shit- you're such a good girl-” there's fire in his eyes as he thrusts in and out. His hands move to the back of your head, forcing you down deeper on his cock. The sounds of your struggle -the gagging- it has his cocm twitching in your mouth

“Fuck-” he grunts, breathing so heavily as you begin to writhe in your seat, needing air.

“I knew you were special, Doll- I knew you were so far beyond self preservation- it borders pathetic” the saltiness of his precum trickle down your throat and you attempt to stomp your feet as your cries vibrate around his cock.

“Look at your hips moving baby,” he says, “You like this as much as I do. You're on my side. Even if you think you aren't.” Your hips are circling as if you're searching for friction along the chair as he groans. “Tell me you're on my side.”

He pulls your mouth off his cock and you breathe in deeply. You're coughing as droplets of spit run down your mouth. Spit and tears. Your face shows it all.

Your voice is hoarse. “I'm on your-”

“F-Fuck- I'm gonna cum-" He brings his cock back to your lips, “All over that pretty fucking face- fuck,” your tears fall as he strokes cock, emptying cock over you face. You keep your eyes shut, letting the sound of his pleasure-filled groans shoot straight to your puffy clit.

“I'm not letting you go,” his thumb moves over the cum coating your face. He moves his thumb past your lips, letting the cum seep into your mouth. Saltiness and need.

He needed you.

“You're not?” You ask petulantly, sucking on his thumb like you've regressed right before him.

“I'm not.” He confirms, “My little winner.”

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[seumyo]

a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.

Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.

It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.

“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.

Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”

“Is there, like, a story behind it?”

“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”

He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”

“Fuck off, dipshit.”

“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

-

But the conversation stuck to you.

It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.

“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.

“A box.”

“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”

“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.

Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.

“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”

He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”

“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.

It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.

“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”

“It’s not my style.”

“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”

He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.

-

Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.

“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”

Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.

He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”

The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”

Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

-

When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.

Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??

A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??

Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️

You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.

Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.

You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.

You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.

But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.

Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.

“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[sttoru]

tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’

“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.

toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.

“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.

“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.

you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.

this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.

you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”

your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.

toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.

the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.

“mamaaaaaa!”

as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.

toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.

you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.

“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.

toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.

“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.

you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.

toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.

it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;

“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the abandoned tie

a/n: this man... this man, this man. i've missed him so much. he has been on my mind all summer and now i finally snapped and wrote some yummy yum about him.

summary: It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

warnings: matt murdock x secretary!reader, smut, coworkers to lovers, kissing, office sex, clothed sex, ripping pantyhose, manhandling, oral, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex, alcohol consumption, foggy slutshames matt (as he deserves. he a hoe and we love him for it)

word count: 4144

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“Okay,” Foggy huffed out a long exhale, “I can’t look at this anymore, I’m going all cross-eyed,” he slammed shut the laptop on the conference table before him, “I gotta call it a night,” and as he raised from his seat, your head tilted up from the intimidating stack of paper your nose was buried in, “any of you up for a round at Josie’s?”

“Uhm, actually, I think I might stay here a little longer,” your thumb brushed against the corner of the pile before you, a mountain of perhaps the most boring paperwork you’d ever given your time of day, but the small chance that some tiny nugget hid in there, something that could help the firm on their current case, convinced you to volunteer to take on the job, “see if I can make a bit more of a dent in this.”

“Alright, fair,” your colleague eyed the papers, then shifted his glance to his partner, seated on the stool directly beside where you sat, “Matt? Come on, man. Don’t let your best friend drink alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he shifted slightly in his seat, then uttered in a tone that almost made it sound as if he was just making up his answer to match yours, “but I think I’m gonna keep going as well,” though the hope that he had changed his verdict to sync up with your own was a dream you’d never truly let yourself believe.

It was terrible, you knew full well that he was your boss, but what had started as an innocent little crush the moment that you were hired as a secretary at Nelson and Murdock only grew and flourished the longer that you worked there. It didn’t help matters either that Matthew was a natural flirt, or at least was with you, always making you stumble over your words and blush like a damn schoolgirl. But even though it was the right thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to go on and actually quit, because if you did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to make your heart flutter on a daily basis anymore, bittersweet as it may be.

“Workaholics the both of you!” Foggy groaned light-heartedly, conjuring an airy chuckle to bubble out of you, “well,” he puffed as he bent down to grab his bag and stuff his laptop inside, “then I guess I’ll just see you guys in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Matt flashed his friend a smile as he crossed the threshold of the door to the conference room. 

Catching his eye through the windowed wall as he made his way out towards the exit, you waved, “night!” before he raised his hand to mirror your gesture. 

After silence had consumed the office once more and your eyes returned to their tedious scanning, a yawn soon forced its way out of your lungs. 

As your hand flew up to cup your mouth, Matt’s soaring fingers stilled over the braille on the pages before him and his head tilted up in your direction. 

“You sure you’re not done for the day?” he quietly asked. 

“No,” you uttered before the yawn was through, “I wanna stay.”

“Alright,” he breathed, “how about some coffee then?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can go make some–”

“No, no, stay, I didn’t mean for you to–… I’ll make it.” 

“Oh,” you blinked back at him, perhaps finding the role reversal a bit more staggering than you’d expected as you were usually the one making everyone else beverages, “y-yeah, that would be great,” before your gaze then shadowed him as he got up and crossed the small width of the humble office to the little kitchenette nook. 

You should have probably just returned to your reading as he stood there and waited for the water in the electric kettle to boil, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. 

When he returned with a steaming mug, he held it out for you to grasp, “here you go,” before he returned to his seat beside your own. 

“Thanks,” your fingers enveloped the warm ceramic before you took a small sip, one that was swiftly cut short as soon as the flavour enveloped your tongue, “wow…” 

“What? Is it bad?” 

“No, no, quite the opposite actually,” you glanced down at the coffee in amazement before your gaze flickered up to him, “it’s perfect,” you uttered, unsure if you were more shocked or just plain weak in the knees at the fact that Matt somehow knew how you took your coffee.

The evening however didn’t drag on for too much longer following the very last sip of your caffeinated beverage. You tried to return to your work, you truly did, but no matter how hard you tried to get back into the flow of things and make a proper dent in the colossal workload, you just couldn’t. 

You were too occupied staring at Matt. 

Gazing longingly at his burly forearms, exposed and framed by the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down, at his wide hands as they danced over the papers before him, nearly caressing them in the manner you always fantasised he would touch your goosebump-ridden flesh, and even at the slight furrow line that appeared betwixt his dark brows as his brain absorbed the texts he read, the little crease you so badly wished to soothe with a kiss. 

As your eyes continued to linger and your heart thumped in your chest at the way your mind ran wild, Matt’s right hand then extended in search of one of the items on the cluttered table, though before his fingers located the wanted folder, they first wandered so close to you that they grazed against your forearm resting there on the surface. 

Though the contact sent butterflies soaring throughout your stomach, the spark also managed to snap you out of your daze and jolt you back to your senses, though the realisation bolted through you so severely that in your haphazard and hazy attempt at both hiding any trace of what you’d let yourself do, as well as dive back into what you should have been doing all along, your clumsy ass twisted away in a manner that almost caused you to fall off your chair. 

Almost. 

You would have fallen face first on the cold office floor if a pair of swift hands hadn’t seized your waist. 

“Wow–, I’ve got you.” 

As your head tilted up, gratitude ready to drip off your tongue, it ceased and shrivelled as you realised just how close you now were to Matt. Your noses almost touched as his grasp didn’t move to unfasten their strong hold on you even though you were now completely out of danger. 

“You’ve got–…” you echoed hazily, “I-I–…”

As his breath fanned across your face, your eyes flickered down to his lips. You’d never been this close to him before, but now that you were, impulsivity swiftly seized your soul. 

Pressing your lips against his in a chased kiss, you soon sensed his grip shift as he kissed you back, his fingers gently digging into your sides to claw you even closer.

Though as you felt yourself melt away in the dream you’d always yearned for, a flash of sense sparked within you and caused you to plant your palms on his broad chest and push him back. 

“Oh my goodness…” your shoulders shot up towards your ears, “I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Please don’t fire–”

But no more fretful words managed to leave your lips as Matt then primally grabbed your face and shut you up with a kiss, a taste of hast tingled on his tongue as he let his own desire take over and rush for more instead of other civilised methods one could opt for in such a situation, he didn’t stop to put out the fire, only fanned the wicked flames and kissed you as if it was the last thing he’d ever do. 

It had caught you completely off guard and was only when he slowed his heated lips to smouldering pecks that you got the chance to catch up. 

“Oh my god…” you whispered slowly between kisses, utterly stunned and reeling in the reality. Your tone at first came out a bit timid as you still couldn’t believe what was transpiring, but as soon as his lips began to wander down the side of your neck and your eyes fluttered at the dizzying sensation, you felt yourself melt into the moment and echo, “oh my god…” though now in a completely different manner, one that dripped with the desire that you evidently hadn’t been the only one to keep bottled up for so long. 

As the lawyer soon rose from his seat, he dragged you up with him by the starved hold he had on your face, keeping you close and devouring your lips. 

Your fingers found his dark tie for support, the fabric of which had already previously been loosened slightly by his own fingers when they long ago drifted up to pop open the very top button of his collar. 

When his feet then shuffled and your backside bumped into the table’s edge, Matt’s palms coasted down your frame till they greedily swept over the pencil skirt you wore and cupped your ass, only letting himself cop a feel for a second before a small yelp bubbled out of you as he then lifted you up to sit on the conference table. 

As your fingers then untangled themselves from the silk hanging around his neck and swept up to the sides of his face, your eager touch bumped into his tinted glasses, which you swiftly removed and cascaded to the messy tabletop beside you where you sat. 

“Oh… Matt…” a small whimper rolled off your tongue as he then ducked down to plant sloppy pecks all along your neck, “please don’t stop…” 

His low voice then vibrated against your rapid pulse, “yeah?” 

“Uh-huh,” your head tilted slightly in a nod as your fingers stretched to weave in with his dark hair, “I–… I–…” you tried to fight through the foggy feeling he distilled in you, though ended up only offering him a short and desperate, “please.”

When you glanced down at him, fully expecting the lawyer’s lips to return to your own, you instead watched as they dipped down even lower, straying from your throat and wandering down to the sliver of skin on display in the neckline of your silky blouse. Your breathing was heavy as you watched your chest rise and fall beneath his hot pecks. Mouth agape, you stared intently as his kisses wandered even further south, his nose nuzzling against the soft material of your shirt as he dropped down to his knees. 

Planting your palms on the surface of the table for support as you watched Matt crack open your pantyhose-clad legs, his lips then dipped down to one of them as he plucked it up to rest it upon his broad shoulder, all the while a series of kisses smothered the sheer nylon clinging to your skin. 

Soon he had your skirt pushed up and bunched around your hips, fervently opening you up and peeling back your layers till he reached what he most desired. However when his touch finally did sweep up to graze against your covered centre, it didn’t continue on the journey up towards your waistband as you had assumed, but instead, his fingers pinched the sheer core of your stockings and tugged till a ripping sound rung out through the dark office. 

“Fuck…” he groaned as he finished tearing the hole, nearly making it huge enough for the nylon to just give up completely and split right down the middle, that’s how little he let remain intact before he moved on and reached for the underwear now accessible to him. 

His thumb stayed hooked in the soaked gusset of your underwear as he rushed to dive in for a taste of your divine. One of your hands shot down to gently grasp his hair as his tongue lavishly licked you up, making your whole body quiver from the way he made out with your cunt. 

Scooping a palm up to cup your tit through your clothing, Matt groaned, “shit…” his fervent rumble vibrating against your puffy pearl before he sucked down on it, “you taste so good…”

As you swiftly felt his kisses push you over the edge, your hips began to rock back against his efforts, grinding your pussy against the lower part of his face as he lapped you up, his fingers too raising to dent your thigh, both to keep your leg draped over his shoulder, but also to keep you steady through all of your squirming as you rode out your high. 

“Oh my–, fuck!” you gasped, catching your breath. Blinking down at him, you watched as he slowly rose back up, planting a few pecks in a sporadic pattern up your form till his lips again found your own. The taste of yourself was heavy on his tongue as you drifted a hand up to wipe your slickness from his stubbly chin. 

“Miss Y/l/n,” he smirked as you tilted away from his kisses to clean him better, addressing you with the same formality he only occasionally still withheld for you during your working hours together, “whatever would I do without you?”

Still in your haze, you thought too hard about the flirty comment and instead turned it into some kind of unnecessary riddle, “well, first of all, you properly wouldn’t have the evidence of what you just did all over your face, and second, then I also wouldn’t even clean it up because it wouldn’t be there, because I wouldn’t be here, and–,” but then, he simply cut off your words, frankly, as well as your brain, and pressed his lips to yours. 

“I fucking love how your mind works,” he grinned, a hand floating up to offer a feathery stroke through your hair. 

“Oh, I–,” a shiver ran down your spine as you blinked back at him, “thank you.” 

A gentle chuckle then rumbled in Matt’s chest as his fingers reached up to tug at his tie, “sweetheart, if you’re gonna thank me like that every time I pay you a compliment or talk dirty to you,” he yanked the loosened accessory over his head, “then I don’t know I’ll ever be able to stop,” and tossed the silky material to one of the dark corners of the dim room.

Tangling your arms around his neck, an amazed giggle bubbled out of you as you then settled on simply repeating, “thank you,” softly egging him on as your nose nudged against his own. 

Groaning lowly, “you little minx…” a smile tugged at his lips as he then leaned in to claim your lips once more.

As he kissed you once again, your legs snaked around his form, dragging up against his sides like a cicada in his arms.

And when he soon shifted a bit before you and extended an arm to something on the table, you breathlessly asked as your fingers floated down to undo his belt, “do you have a–,” but then you twisted your neck to see what he conjured from his bag, “oh,” you glanced down at the small foil packet in his hand, “you do,” you let out a relieved exhale, “good, because I didn’t, so here I was scrambling my mind for what other options we had.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, the sudden presence of his hands working at freeing himself caused your own to retreat, “and what did you come up with?”

“Oh, well…” you swallowed, conjuring enough courage to utter, “we could just touch each other…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you hazily nodded, “or I could repay you the favour.”

“Yeah?” his hard length sprang free, “you’d suck my cock?”

Scarcely breathing at all, you stared as he swiftly rolled on the condom, “more than you know…” 

“But none of that’s what you really want right now, is it?” 

As his hand snaked around your hip to scoop you that much closer to the edge, you foggily shook your head, “no…”

“Tell me what it is then,” he uttered as he rubbed the bulbous head of his dick through your folds, making you squirm from the dizzying sensation, “tell me what you want.”

Though the mission of getting words out and offering him an answer seemed more difficult than you anticipated as his tip nudged against your swollen clit and made it near impossible for you to think, “I–… you. I want you,” your arms draped around his neck he inched back in for a kiss, “I-I–, Matt, please just put it in–”

Answering your prayer, he then slid his cock inside, slowly filling your dripping pussy up till his pelves pressed against your puffy pearl and the tip of him kissed a spot so deep inside of you that you felt as if you could scarcely breathe at all. 

“There you go,” his groan rumbled in your ear, “that what you wanted, huh?” though when you tried to respond, only whimpers flowed from your lips, “then be a good girl and thank me again,” he dared to request as he gently began to move, “tell me thank you for giving you exactly what you want,” and you moaned, eyes rolling at the way he dragged his girth out of you, so overwhelmingly slow that your cunt clenched around him so tightly that he had to carve anew when he finally thrust forward and filled you up once more, “come on, you can do it. Your pussy’s already doing it in her own incredible way.”

As his lips lowered to flutter against the side of your neck, you faintly murmured, “t-thank you–” 

Though the cocky lawyer only bucked into you harder, making you tremble in his grasp as he smirked against your goosebump-ridden skin, “what was that?”

“Thank you, M-Matt!” you successfully squeaked.

“Atta girl,” his hand slid up the column of your neck as your head began to lull, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Uh-uh,” you hazily shook your head as you clung to his broad shoulders. 

Lightly enveloping his fingers around your neck, just to keep you close, his other digits then reached down between your bodies to find your clit in a harsh rub as he dared to say, “then say it again…”

The words of gratitude then became like a mantra on your lips, incoherently flowing through your moans as he rocked into you so hard that the conference table rattled beneath you, fucking you till you both tumbled over the edge, though the simple phrase still kept rolling off your tongue even when he offered to walked you home afterwards and too when he pressed a soft peck to your forehead, whispering you goodnight before you disappeared inside your building. 

The cups of coffee you had nervously bought the very next morning were quite the task to balance in your hands. It would have been strange if you didn’t buy one for all of your coworkers, even though the brew truthfully had ulterior motives. 

It wasn’t just the regular kind and thoughtful round of coffee to start the day, but in truth was a thanks for the bang last night, oh, and by the way I am head over heels in love with you, I know I was too scared to tell you last night, but I’m terrified of fucking this up kind of coffee. 

It was a lot of pressure to put on a simple cup of coffee, you recognised that, but what else were you to do? 

Though when you managed to push open the door to the office without dropping or spilling any of the balanced paper mugs, Foggy was the first one to spot you.

“Oh, you bought coffee?” he grabbed one out of your arms, “thanks!” before he called over his shoulder, his voice flooding into the room to the left, “hey Matt! Y/n got a round of coffee!” 

It hadn’t been the suave delivery you’d hoped for, having Foggy force the mood in a purely platonic and professional direction as Matt appeared and casually seized the cup his friend caught from you and extended to him, instead of the fantasy that had tickled your mind all morning of effortlessly slipping into his office and sliding it across his desk with some clever line you hadn’t been able to come up with yet.  

Though Matthew still smiled and said as he raised the cup up to his lips, “thank you, Y/n,” and the mirroring echo of the words he’d made you repeat last night so many times that it lost all its meaning, caused your cheeks to heat up. 

“Uhh,” you blinked back at him, trying to shake the memory off of you, “y-you’re welcome…”

However, before you could part your lips, ask your boss for a private moment and finally make your move, Foggy opened his mouth once more and spoke. 

“Hey, remember how I put out feelers to Karen?” he began to saunter into the conference room.

As Matt began to follow his voice, you too shadowed them, all the while trying your best to keep the butterflies on your belly at bay as you returned to the scene of the crime, most of the papers on the table still in a mess from how little the pair of you had bothered to clean up afterwards. 

“Yeah,” Matt tilted his head, “she got anything?”

“Yup,” Foggy took a sip of coffee, “called me this morning and said she’d pop by later with the stuff she–, hey,” his sentence then took a sharp turn as his gaze found something on the floor that puzzled him enough for his brows to crinkle up. Bending down, he picked up a silky string of fabric and wrapped it around his fingers, “Matt, did you forget your tie here?”

“Uh, what?” the man beside you stiffened up slightly. 

“Your tie, this looks like the one you wore yesterday.”

“Oh, uhm, yeah,” he coughed, fidgeting lightly with the to-go cup in his grasp, “it just bothered me last night, so I took it off, must have forgotten to put it in my bag.”

As Foggy’s eyes scanned Matt’s reaction and too let his gaze wash over your flustered form and spot how the truth virtually poured out of your pores from the way your eyes grew, he simply hummed, “…uh-huh…” not believing his pal for a second. 

Sucking in a breath, Matt tried to extend his hand and asked, “can I have it back?” though his forced casual tone was utterly unconvincing. 

“Oh my god…” Foggy sighed before tossing the tie in his friend’s face, “you have a problem, man.” 

To your surprise, the man beside you caught it, though you were still just one step too far behind him to catch the way a smug smirk tugged at his lips, “what?” as he couldn’t for the life of him hide the pride of the discovery his friend had surely made countless of times throughout their friendship. 

“I leave you two alone for one night, one night!”

“…and to Matt for giving the closing argument of a lifetime and winning us this case!” Foggy raised his drink to the centre of where he, his colleagues and Karen sat around one of the small tables at Josie’s. 

“Oh, come on,” the dark-haired man beside you humbly tilted his head, “you were on fire as well–”

“Matt,” his friend cut him off by briefly planting his palm on his shoulder, “just shut up and take the compliment,” before he tilted his beer bottle back up and roared, “cheers!” 

“Cheers!” Karen, to the left of you, sang before the rest of you echoed, clinking all of your glasses together. 

“Thank you,” Matt gave in and smiled as everyone took a sip, “I couldn’t have done it without you all,” before he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “especially you…”

The sound of his low voice directly in your ear was enough to turn your knees into jelly, but as your eyes fluttered up to gaze at him, the personal space he had now eliminated betwixt you two caused you to positively melt. 

As you breathed out an audible smile, his lips stayed close as his breath once again tickled the shell of your ear, “so now that the trial’s done, I was wondering,” he uttered slowly, making you cling onto each and every syllable that flowed from his lips, “would you let me take you out on a real date?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[moonstruckme]

Different person— but is it overdoing it if I request a bad car accident but with an established relationship EMT marauders 👀

Yes definitely absolutely but I'll allow it (I did have to try and make it a little different though) <3

cw: scary car wreck aftermath, blood, concussion, angst

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

By the time the ambulance arrives, you’re already in hysterics. They only get worse when you see who steps out. 

“I’m sorry.” The words come out on a guttural sob, snot and tears and blood all mixed together on your face. “He was—I distracted him, and—” 

“Shh, shh.” Remus comes to you while Sirius rounds the car. He puts his hands on your jaw. “You’re alright. Don’t move.” 

“I made him look away—” 

“Stop moving, love.” His hands are still, grip firm, eyes moving quickly to scan you over. “I need you to focus.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“What hurts?” 

“But James—” 

“Sweetheart, please. Please.” Remus’ voice scrapes a little, and through your panic you register the wetness of his eyes. He’s terrified. “Sirius is with him, okay? We’re doing all we can, but I need to be sure you’re okay. Please let me do this.” 

Another sob collapses through your ribcage, but you choke out, “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Remus takes a breath. His fingers shift slightly on your cheek; perhaps only adjusting his grip, but it feels like a caress. To your right, you can hear Sirius’ voice but not James’. “Focus on me. What hurts?” 

“Um…my shoulder.” You haven’t given it much notice, honestly, all your worry since the crash only for your boyfriend unconscious at the wheel, but when you take a moment to think it’s obvious. Your arm is screaming. “And my head, but less.” 

Remus nods, all business as he uses one set of fingers to feel the back of your neck, moving down your spine. “Any pain here?” 

“No?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Sorry, I’m sure.” 

“Good. That’s good, sweetheart.” He spares you a brief kiss. The stiff upper lip you’d been attempting to form quivers underneath his gentle touch. “Do you feel sick at all?” 

“Yeah,” you admit, though you think that’s more from anxiety than anything else. 

Remus seems to understand. He pulls a pen light from his pocket, clicking it on. “Look here for me.” 

You have every intention of doing as he says, truly, but it’s at that moment that you hear Sirius say thickly, “There he is. Hi, baby.” 

Later, you might think it’s sort of funny—baby. It’s unlike Sirius to call James that, and unlike James to be called it. But perhaps Sirius is only feeling very overwhelmed by tenderness and relief; that, you could certainly understand. 

You turn in your seat, the pain in your left side temporarily vanishing. You only want to see James with his eyes open, but if you have your choice he’ll be awake and talking, normal, totally unhurt, a miracle. “James?” 

“Y/n,” Remus chides, but there’s relief in his voice, too, his gaze looking past you. 

“Sorry, I—Jamie.” Your voice breaks. You’re sobbing again all at once, reaching for your boyfriend as he blinks slowly, his lovely face all pinched in discomfort. “James.” 

You’re arrested from both ends, Remus catching your wrist and Sirius halting you with a stern look. It softens after a moment, that instinctive protectiveness giving way to something gentler. He almost looks sorry.

“Don’t touch him,” he tells you, firm though not unkind. “We can’t move him until we rule out spinal injury. Listen to Remus, angel, let us do our job.” 

You lower your hand, chastened, but are unable to tear your gaze away from James. He looks confused. There’s the smallest bit of blood collected under his nostrils. 

He seems to find words slowly. “Pads?” 

“Hello, gorgeous boy.” Sirius smiles at him, holding his neck and jaw as Remus had done for you. “Funny seeing you here.” 

Remus says your name again. Only when he cups your cheek, manually turning you towards him, do you finally look away. Your boyfriend is watching you with a tender expression. 

“He’s okay.” He thumbs underneath your eye, collecting blood and tears on the latex of his glove. “We’re okay, yeah?” 

“I distracted him,” you whisper, throat tight. “He swerved too late because he was looking at me.” 

“Well,” Sirius, who has evidently overheard, chimes in with a suave tone, “who among us could be faulted for that, eh?” 

A laugh, soft and half broken, stutters out of Remus. “Very true,” he says. “Can you look here for me now, please?�� 

You let him go through his tests, which eventually find you well enough to be moved from the car. Your boyfriends work as a pair to get first James and then you onto stretchers. By then another ambulance has arrived and, neither Sirius nor Remus wanting to leave you or James and each seemingly having grown slightly jealous of the other, they swap off; Remus hops into the ambulance with James and another paramedic, and Sirius goes with you. 

You see this as your chance to get some real, unfiltered intel. Sirius can always be relied upon to tell things as they are. 

“Is Remus—are we going to the same place?” you ask as he locks your gurney into place inside the ambulance, knocking on the window to let the paramedic driving know once it’s secure. 

“Oh, yeah. Of course, you thought we’d let you end up in different hospitals?” Sirius turns your head gently with his hand, wiping with something cool above your eyebrow. It stings. “We want you both where we can keep an eye on you.” 

Your fear worsens. “Why?”

Sirius glances at your eyes, his expression softening. He brushes a gloved forefinger over your forehead consolingly. “Not because we think anything bad is going to happen to either of you, sweetness. Just for the same reasons as always; because we like to.”  

“How bad is it, though?” 

“Could certainly be worse,” he says. “You have a relatively mild concussion, and your shoulder—”

“With James,” you clarify quickly. 

“Oh.” Sirius blinks. His brows draw together, not condemning but sympathetic. “His concussion is a bit worse than yours,” he says, as frank as you’d been counting on from him. “He’s in and out, rather confused, but mostly unhurt besides that. Honestly, that first blow to his head might have saved him a lot of damage. Sometimes, when people go limp during a crash, they…hey. Hey, baby.” 

You shut your eyes, powerless to stop the silent sobs that shake your middle. Sirius wipes gently underneath your eyes. 

“That’s enough of that,” he murmurs. “We’re fine. We’re all fine.” 

“He’s hurt because I—because he turned—” 

“I heard you before,” Sirius quiets you. “You couldn’t control that, lovely.” 

You can feel your hairline growing damp with tears. Your voice is a scratchy, shamed thing. “I’m just so sorry.” 

“I know.” Your boyfriend presses a piece of gauze to the cut on your forehead, his gaze unflinching. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, though. You really don’t. Anyone can blame themselves, but the truth is you might’ve gotten hit no matter what. There’s no sense in thinking like that.” 

Sirius pauses, looking for understanding in your face. You press your lips together in attempt to stop crying. 

“I need you to focus on getting better,” he says. “Can you do that for me? I can’t hug you properly so long as your shoulder’s dislocated, and I think we could both use a hug right now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you whimper. 

Sirius offers you a small smile, taping the gauze over your cut. “Good. So you’ve got your job, then, yeah?”

“I’ll try.” 

“You’re going to be so great at it, sweetness. I have absolute faith in you.” 

[forever-rogue]

Trouble

AN | Hello, I'm here to fix it. It never happened. Joel is back in Jackson. Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Canon typical injury

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were covered in dirt, blood, and gunk but none of that mattered in the moment. What mattered was that no matter how bruised and worn down you felt, you were alive. You had survived, Jackson had survived…everything would be okay.

Dragging yourself up off the ground, you spotted Tommy and Maria up ahead. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slowly made your way towards them, helping any stragglers along your way. It was going to take a while to recover from this disaster, but at least you knew things would get better. And, if anything, you now had more knowledge on the enemy and their…abilities for lack of a better word.

Brushing some blood and dirt off your face, you spotted Ellie getting off her horse just up ahead. Thank fuck.

They were all okay. Everything was fine. Ellie, Jesse, Dina, and Joel were back. 

You ran as fast as you could which, given the state you were in wasn't very fast, ready to make your way to them. It was more of a limping skip as you made your way over.

“Tommy! Ellie!” You shouted over the wind, waving your arm to get their attention. When they heard you and finally turned around, you were met with a sea of grim faces. Your stomach dropped; they should be happy. If not happy, at least not so grim. Right? When you finally got to them, you realized that you didn’t see Joel. You immediately knew something was very wrong, “where's Joel?”

Ellie opened and closed her mouth a few times, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Where's Joel?” you asked again, swallowing the lump in your throat. You turned to Tommy and saw that the look on his face mirrored the one on Ellie's. In fact, no one looked happy, “Tommy. Where's Joel?”

“Listen-” 

“Where is he!?” You demand again, tears welling up in your own eyes. Tommy put his hand on your shoulder and held onto it firmly, “T-Tommy. Where is he?”

“He's at Kat's,” he finally said, his own voice shaking as he tried to keep it together, “he's…he's not doing well.”

You choked out a sob before turning on your heel and running towards Kat's house. Your own body was screaming in pain but none of that mattered in the moment. All you could think about was getting to Joel. That was the only thing that mattered. 

You burst through the front door of the house, lungs on fire as you headed towards the stairs. You took a moment to catch your breath, clutching the stitch in your side, “Kat? Kat!”

You started up the stairs, Kat meeting you at the top with a grim expression on her face. She was a kind, older woman that always had a way of making you feel better no matter the circumstances. She was a good doctor.

She took your face in her hands before sighing softly and pulling you in for a hug. You clutched onto her tightly, fearful for what she was going to say to you. When you pulled apart, she brushed some dirt off your clothes, “I'm going to have a look at you next.”

“There's other people that need your help more than I do,” you insisted, “where's Joel? I-I need to see him. Please.”

“Look,” she gave your hand a squeeze, “he's lucky to be alive. I hate to say that, I do. But he's lucky Ellie and Jesse found him when they did.”

“What happened?” You were reeling from her words; the idea of losing Joel was unbearable, “tell me. Please.”

“Seems like some people he made enemies of a long time back found him,” she sighed, “and they had some sort of vendetta against him.”

You couldn't wait any longer and gently pushed past her and into the room where you knew he'd be. As soon as you opened the door, you stopped in your tracks when you found him on the bed. You let out a shaky breath as you dropped to your knees by his side, “oh my god. Joel.”

“He can't hear you,” Kat followed in after you, grim look on her face, “he's out. He's gonna be out for a while.”

“What did they do to him?” His face was bruised and there were remnants of dried blood all over him. He looked so pale that it made your stomach drop. It took you a moment of notice that his leg was completely bandaged up.

“Shot in the side, his leg was broken badly. Ellie said…there was a girl beating him with a golf club before resorting to using her fists. He's got some broken ribs and lost a lot of blood. He's going to be a while before he's up and able to get, let alone get around.”

“But he'll-”

“There's no swelling in his brain and his lungs sound clear. He's past the absolute worst but he's not out of the woods just yet,” you hated that she wouldn't just confirm that he'd make it, “but its Joel. You know he's not going to give up fighting.”

“What can I do?” You asked, voice cracking as tears blurred your vision, “anything. Whatever it takes.”

“There's not much you can do right now. Its just going to take time,” she whispered, “take care of yourself. And the others. Things will be alright.”

“Will they?” You plopped onto the ground and reached for his hand; it was cold and stiff, “I can't…I can't lose him. I just can't.”

“We'll do everything we can do,” she promised, “we just have to be patient.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Here,” Tommy's voice pulled you of your stupor as he walked in and held a hot cup of tea out to you, “our mama used to say that there wasn't anything a cup of tea couldn't fix.”

“Thanks,” you clutched the warm mug in your cold, tired hands as you stared at the golden liquid. You stretched, your body tired and aching from the stiff wooden chair that had basically become your second home. You'd been camped out by his side, refusing to move unless absolutely necessary. You’d cleaned him up as best as you could but he still looked so…fragile. Broken.

“You can leave you know,” he said as you looked at him incredulously, “you can rest and take time for yourself. You ain't going to be helping anyone by not making sure you're okay.”

“I don't want to leave him,” you sighed, looking Joel over. It had been almost two weeks, and while he seemed to be healing, he still wasn't up and conscious, “what if he wakes up and I'm not here? O-or something happens?”

Tommy let out a low sigh as he looked forlornly at his older brother, “I keep thinking the same thing. But you know if anything happens, someone will get you right away.”

“Yeah,” you sipped the warm liquid and closed your eyes for a moment. You knew this was just hard for him and Ellie, “what happened to her? The girl?”

“She got away,” he gritted his teeth, “for now. We'll find her.”

“I keep thinking I want to go out there and kill her myself,” you whispered, reaching over and gently brushing a rogue lock of hair out of Joel's face, “that I want her to suffer as much as he did, or worse.”

“But…”

“Nothing excuses what she did,” you whispered, “but I can't imagine doing that to another living being. It makes us no better than them. But at the time I don't know if I care about that.”

“Its hard,” he agreed.

“It is,” you took his hand in yours, “I don't know what to do. For now, I just want him to be okay.”

“He's a stubborn old fool. He's not going to leave us that easily.”

“Promise?” Your voice was quiet and you weren't even sure you'd intended for him to hear it. Tommy nodded as offered him a small smile in return, “you better hurry up and get better soon, old man. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss your grumpy old face.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Time seemed slower than it ever did before as you remained by Joel's side. A few more days had passed and as much as you wanted to remain hopeful, you had to admit it was hard to. While his pallor returned and the dark bruising faded to green and yellow, he hadn't woken up. You never thought you could miss someone so much when they were right next to you. 

“You know,” you had moved onto the bed, laying on the edge to be close to him without hurting him further, “I remember when we first met after I got here. It was kind of like this then too, except I wasn't hurt as bad. One of the first things you said to me was that you knew I was going to be a pain in your ass. Turns out you were right, but I could say the same about you.”

The room was silent, filled only with the combined sounds of your soft breathing. You tentatively reached out a hand and traced your fingertips along his side, barely a ghost of a touch.

“I miss you, you know,” you continued, “I always miss you when you're gone, even if its only a few hours, but this is so much worse. Its like you're right here but a million miles away. I want you to come back to me soon. We're all waiting for you. Ellie misses you so much too. She saved you, you know. She never hated you, which I think you know deep down. She loves you, you'll always be her Joel. I love you. So much.”

You laid there until you fell asleep, only moonlight filtering in. You weren't sure how much long your heart could handle this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was going on three weeks and you were still a wreck as much as the first day. You were growing impatient and tired and angry, and a million other emotions.

“You know I hate to ask you to leave but can you give Maria a hand with some stuff at the stables?” You looked at Tommy and glanced at Joel before nodding. He hadn't woken up yet, and at this you weren't sure when he would. It was probably fine to be gone for a few hours.

“Of course,” you stood up, giving Joel one last look before heading out. You'd be back soon enough.

It was a few hours of some back breaking labor that you were finally able to take a moment to breathe. There was still so much left to do to rebuild Jackson, and as reluctant as you had been to leave Joel, you were happy for the work that had taken all of your attention.

You heard your name being shouted from the distance and looked over to Benji running towards you with Tommy running after him. You exchanged a look with Maria and bent down to scoop him up in your arms.

“Hey kiddo, what's got you so excited?” 

“Uncle Joel,” he started simply, a big gap toothed smile on his face. Your heart stopped for a moment as you looked over to Tommy, who had managed to catch up.

“Tommy?” You tried to keep the excitement out of your face, “is he…?”

“He's awake,” he confirmed, “just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” you gently set him down and ran off without another word. You figured they'd understand.

You burst into the house and ran upstairs and into his room, chest heaving from the exertion. Kat raised an eyebrow at you but there was a smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, “just in time.”

“Joel?” Kat stepped out of the way and slipped out of the room to give the two of you some privacy.

And there he was; still looking worse for the wear but sat up in the bed and fully conscious. It might have been the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“Hey trouble,” his voice was dry and raspy but hearing him immediately brought tears to your eyes.

“Joel,” you took a few tentative steps towards him, part of you refusing to believe this was real. He moved his hand to reach out for you, “you're…you're…I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily,” his laugh turned into a cough and you handed him the glass of water that was by his bedside.

“Take it easy old man,” you joked through your tears, finally happy ones, as you sat next to him on the bed, “don't need you to hurt yourself now.”

He smiled at you, putting his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “you were here. The whole time.”

“Where else would I be?” You sniffled as he reached up and wiped your tears away. You put your hand on top of his and held it gently against your cheek.

“Preferably out living life,” he stroked his thumb over your skin, “not worrying about me.”

You studied him, taking in the brown eyes you'd missed so much. He was definitely far from recovered but he was here and he was alive. That was enough for now.

You gently took his hand off your face and took his face in your hands. You frowned at the bruising that was lingering but you knew it'd be gone soon enough. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, kissing him as softly and tenderly as possible. With a relieved sigh, you touched your forehead against his, “I don't think I could ever stay away.”

“You know I'm never going to leave you,” he whispered as you nodded.

“I love you,” you promised, “even if you are a stubborn grump.”

“I love you too, trouble,” he shifted over gently before patting the same next to him, “c'mere.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” he scoffed and you kicked off your boots before getting into the bed next to him, slowly to make sure you didn't cause him any pain. You laid down and rested your head on his good leg, letting out a slow, deep breath. Joel started gently playing your hair, causing tingles to shoot through your entire body. You hadn't realized how much you missed his touch, “you should lie down too. You need the rest.”

“So do you,” he insisted, grinning as you yawned, “you've been here the whole time watching me, let me take care of you.”

“Only if you lie down with me and we both stay here for a while,” you insisted, turning your face to look up at him.

“I suppose,” he shifted with a grimace but was able to get himself comfortable next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, “you alright?”

“Better than I have been in weeks,” you turned so you were facing him, “I was scared that we'd never get to do this again. That I'd never see you again. That you would be gone…”

“Oh trouble,” he whispered, “that's never going to happen. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, “I'm going to hold you to that, Miller.”

“I'd expect nothing less, trouble.”

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

sweet nothings

summary: you own a bakery down the street from PTMH, and Dr. Robby is one of your favorite customers. The night of The Pitt Fest shooting, you stress bake and deliver the results to the park near the hospital when you have a gut feeling everyone could use something to lift their spirits wc:  1.8 k+ a/n: this is my first time writing for The Pitt but I really enjoyed it, looking forward to more!! Please feel free to send any requests my way! Yes I stole the title from the Taylor Swift song, some things never change. warnings: two idiots who haven't gotten their shit together and admitted their feelings, general fluff

You’d been elbow deep in flour and cocoa powder the moment that you saw the first message concerning the shooting at Pitt Fest. You whisked and folded, hoping that the familiar movements would quiet the nausea churning in your stomach. You knew that it was going to be a long night for your chosen family, which meant that it was going to be a long night for you. Three batches of brownies, a few dozen cookies and a special batch of gluten free hand pies for Princess later, and you could catch your breath. By the time that you had them all packed up and loaded into your travel tote, the tightness in your stomach had subsided. 

It was a cool night, a gentle breeze blowing the loose strands of hair around your face and tickling your cheek as you walked the familiar path to the park in front of the hospital. You’d forgone packing things into your car, unsure if the traffic would still be busy near the hospital. You hadn’t texted ahead, deviating from your typical routine. You knew that they were likely too busy to check their phones, if service was even working again after the barrage of worried calls and texts had tanked it earlier in the evening. 

The benches were empty, but it hardly phased you, you’d beaten them there plenty of times. And worse case scenario, most of the security knew you well enough to let you sneak into the Pitt through the back and dump your offerings in the break room before trucking home. You unpacked your bag, setting out the tupperware along with some small plates and napkins. You’d left drinks behind, knowing that someone was likely already making a run for a pack of beers. You tucked the strands of hair behind your ear, settling in for a bit. 

It didn’t take long, fifteen minutes or so before Donnie and Princess arrived, rolling the cooler behind them. They waved in greeting, planting themselves on the bench across from you and digging out two beers. You smiled softly, before grabbing a brownie and one of the pies and walking them over. 

“You sure you’re not an angel?” Donnie asked, grinning. 

“Laying it on thick today?” you laughed. 

“It’s the only way I know how,” he hit you with a charming smile that lacked any real commitment. You held back your instinct to ask after his wellbeing, knowing full well that he is not doing well after the day you imagined he had. 

You and Princess gossiped about the latest episode of the reality show you were both shamelessly addicted to, and you did your best not to dodge their compliments on the baked goods, knowing they would report back to Michael. Or rather, Dr. Robby. 

You’d met him only once before getting properly acquainted after an accident at the bakery had required you to hurry to the nearest hospital. But, he’d given you his first name when placing the order for his latte, so Michael he remained. 

You did you best not to ask about the shift knowing that it had to have been a nightmare. Instead, you contented yourself to sitting and listening to them chatter, the time passing surprisingly quickly. 

Just as you were starting to feel silly, playing with the edge of the wax paper lining the tupperware with the brownies and chastising yourself for getting your hopes up, a set of footsteps broke through the mess of worry in your brain. Michael had clearly had a hard shift, his shoulders dropping, head hung low and his eyes were dark. You’d been right to come. Jack seemed to be in somewhat better spirits beside him, but he was battle weary even to your untrained eyes. 

Michael’s eyes bet yours, his eyebrows creeping up towards his hairline, head tilting in question. “I saw…” you hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “What happened today. Figured you could use a pick me up.” You’d already added a few of the brown butter chocolate chip cookies to a plate, handing them to Michael wordlessly. He took a seat on your side unlittered with tupperware, and you did your best to control your rapidly beating heart. “Jack?” you questioned, motioning to the assorted baked goods on your left. 

“Well if you insist,” he laughed, working his pant leg up to free himself of his prosthetic. “Can’t turn you down.” You smiled, adding a bit of everything to a little plate and walking it over to him. 

You sat back down next to Michael, insisting to yourself that the heat radiating off his arm stretched across the back of the bench was in no way related to the flip in your stomach. The others chatted amongst themselves, making light of the day. You chanced a glance his way, holding in a giggle when you noticed the couple of crumbs clinging to the side of his mouth. Your fingers twitched to brush them away, but he managed to beat you to it. “Tough day?” he asked, surveying the plethora of baked goods taking up the rest of the bench. 

“Just worried.” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Hate feeling like I can’t do anything worthwhile to help.” The ‘not like you can’ was unspoken. 

Michael cast his glance across the clearing, where his coworkers were smiling and making a considerable dent in your sweets. He didn’t argue with you, knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference, especially on a day like today. “You had one of these yet?” he asked, holding up one of the cookies. You shook your head. “You should, they’re working miracles.” 

You blinked at him, your heart picking up speed. You searched his eyes, trying to figure out if he did that on purpose, when a few more people joined your circle. “Samira!” you jumped up, reaching for her. She gripped you tight, sinking against you for the duration of the hug. Samira stopped by the bakery frequently on her way to work, taking advantage of the early hours you kept with the morning shift at the hospital in mind. “If I’d known you were going to be here, I would have made a couple batches of those muffins you like.”

She laughed, head tilted back and eyes light in a way you wouldn’t have imagined was possible after the shift she just finished. “You didn’t have to bring anything, I’m glad you’re here.” she paused for a moment, her gaze shifting behind you for a moment. You craned your neck to find Michael watching the two of your carefully, something different in his expression. “This is Victoria, today was her first day,” Samira gestured behind her to the girl who was standing with her hands clasped in front of her, looking shy. 

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” You gave her a warm smile, squeezing her arm gently before turning and placing a few things on a plate for her and another for Matteo. “Here, to soothe your soul.” She took the plate gratefully, Matteo as well. 

“Thank you that’s really-” she was cut off by loud, full laughter from behind. Your head whipped around, finding Michael with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said through his laughter. “I just realized this was your first day.” Everyone quickly burst into various degrees of laughter. Victoria met your eyes, assessing your reaction. You did your best to shrug in a way that said ‘I’m used to this by now’ and you realized that was the truth. You had known Michael for a little over a year, and had slowly integrated into the culture of the ED. You weren’t one of them, but you belonged. These were your people. 

“That’s trial by fire, baby” Jack said, raising his can in Victoria’s direction. 

“I can almost guarantee the next one will be easier.” Michael said, and you were reminded that he was not just a kind man who stopped in on his way to work most days. He was a mentor, a teacher and someone that changed lives. 

“I really fucking hope so.” Victoria looked weary, but not defeated. You felt she would be back. 

Donnie was saying something to her, but you didn’t hear. “It’s late.” Michael said, leaning close enough for his shoulder to bump yours. You nod, leaning in as well. “You ready to go?” you nodded again, fighting back a yawn that was bubbling to the surface. He nodded, shouldering his backpack and standing up. 

“Last call!” You announced, grabbing a couple of containers and offering second helpings around. A smile took over when everyone accepted the extras. You deposited the container of pies in Princess’s lap, laughing when she promised she would get the container back to you. “You don’t have to lie to me of all people, you know.” 

“I don’t even know why I try.” she laughed, squeezing your hand. 

“It’s nice that you do,” you insisted. You packed as many empty containers as you could into your tote, and Michael grabbed the few remaining. You gave everyone a gentle wave before turning on your heel and starting towards the bakery. You could hear Michael saying his goodbyes but you continued on, confident that he would fall into step beside you. 

After a few moment, you felt him reach for the tote bag you had slung over your shoulder. “Keep dreaming, Robinavitch. I don’t let you carry my stuff on a good day.” 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

“You underestimate me,” you say, assessing him now that you’re alone. He is still clearly exhausted, weighed down by the reality of his day. But he looks okay. Definitely better than when he’d trudged into the park across from the hospital. 

“Never.” and you knew he was right. You looped your arm through his, pulling him tight against your side. The two of you made your way back to the bakery in relative silence, taking comfort in the fact that the other is okay. He waited for you to unlock to door before pulling it open for you. You slipped inside, Michael following you to the kitchen. You moved in sync, putting things into the dishwasher, the few bits of leftover brownies into one of the fridges. 

Once things were put away, you leaned against the counter, giving him a once over. “You’re not subtle.” he mutters.

You laugh, folding in half with the force. “I don’t know what you mean.” But you do know what he means. You were worried, you showed up with baked goods to mask the fact you were checking on him. it wasn't the first time and it won't be the last.

“I’m okay. Today was rough, but I’m…” he paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m better now. Jack helped, you helped.” 

You took a step towards him, hesitating, waiting for him to turn away or cross his arms or any other sign that he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want you. It doesn’t come. Another step, another pause. And then you can’t take it anymore and you are pressed against him, his hands tight around your back. 

Your breaths even out, sync up and the rest of the day feels distant. You’re safe, he’s safe and the rest can wait until tomorrow.