#it’s just like. she sent a photo of the picture frames and my stomach dropped

[drivemysoul]

i’m not like. insane for being jealous of my girlfriend’s best friend right

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I.R.L.📷2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: Okay, here’s the second and last part of this short little piece. Thanks for reading and the excitement. I’m sorry if I’m a bit blegh rn.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Andy stared at the chat. He waited and waited but the green dot didn’t pop up. Maybe she was freaked out after meeting him. Or maybe she was over him. Her name hadn’t blipped up in any of his sessions in the last week and he even invited her to an impromptu private show after he got back from the café. He hoped her seeing him might nudge her but it only seemed to scare the fuck out of her.

He recalled how she nearly fell on her face running away from him. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. No preening or smiles, just terror and a quick escape. He didn’t understand. He was a good looking guy and she was obviously lonely. Hell, she was cute too. He was hardly disappointed.

He waited another fifteen minutes, distracting himself with the colour matching game on his phone but her status remained inactive. He scrolled through his bookmarks and clicked on her insta profile. She had commented on some DIY tutorials in the last hour but hadn’t posted. She only ever added pictures of flowers anyway; her last photo of herself was from a year ago. It was her and some guy but he could guess they were no longer together.

He was starting to get upset. She was ignoring him. He wasn’t stupid but what had he done? Their sessions were going well up until this week and he actually looked forward to them. He felt that same thrill he had when he first started his hustle.

He slammed his laptop shut and dropped his phone face down. Fuck it, he had better stuff to do.

He crossed the room and grabbed one of the boxes still stacked against the wall. He hauled it over to the empty bookshelf and flipped it open. He unpacked the books one at a time and the heavy bookend shaped like half a globe. He didn’t know why he brought all these things, he didn’t use them. He wasn’t a lawyer anymore.

He leaned against the side of the sofa and crossed his arms. He boxed up his whole life, or what was left of it, and drove halfway across the country. She couldn’t even give him a hello or her name. She could hardly look at him and she wouldn’t answer his goddamn messages.

He pushed himself straight and stormed over to his laptop. He ripped it open and clicked on the chat. Still, nothing. The invitation was scheduled for less than an hour. Well, if she wasn’t going to open it, he’d have to get it to her another way. He was done waiting on her and he was done playing with her through a screen.

He wanted the real thing and he knew she wanted it too.

📷

You were still slightly addled from your encounter at the café. After you got home and unpacked your groceries, you didn’t find your coffee again until it went cold. You dumped it and replaced it with a glass of wine. You bought the bottle a month ago, expecting to unwind and that time finally came.

You sat with the healthy dose of alcohol, almost to the brim as it darkened the full belly of the glass. You wore only a baggy Winnie the Pooh tee and panties as you lounged and flipped on the tv. 

You rarely used the front room anymore, ever since your boyfriend moved out you spent most of your time in the bedroom, exhausted and lonely. It was easier to just linger there between responsibilities.

Your dainty sips turned to greedy slurps as you turned on an episode of Project Runway and lost yourself in the competition and drama of it all. Your ex hated that show and you hadn’t watched it in years. It was time to get caught up with what would forever be your unfulfilled dream of being a designer.

By the runway, your glass was empty and the television had a soft glare as you were slightly buzzed by the high potency. The dark blend had a percentage in the double digits and you were feeling it, delightfully so. As the designers came up for their feedback from judges, more so a roast, you leaned back and wiggled your hips as you stretched. You yawned and closed your eyes as you listened to a designer give cutting critique of a hem.

You peeked under your lashes as the camera panned in on the fraying stitches. Well, it looked alright from far away. You bent your arm under your head as you turned onto your side and your eyes closed again as you pondered another glass of wine. That might give you a decent night’s sleep.

You inhaled and sat up, intent on another indulgence but you stopped short as you blinked in shock. You hadn’t drank that much. You couldn’t be hallucinating. You pressed yourself to the back of the couch and shook your head as you gaped at the figure stood just beside the tv, eyes calmly watching you.

“What…” you gulped.

“Shhhh,” the man, the one you watched all those nights on your laptop, brought his finger to his lips as he hushed you, “it’s okay, honey.”

“I--” your heart leapt into your throat and you stood as you swiped up your glass, “get out. How did--”

“I sent you an invitation. Several this week. You haven’t answered--”

You hit the glass off the table so it cracked and left a jagged edge. You jabbed it out at him from the other side of the coffee table, your hand shaking as the shock turned to a jolt of adrenaline.

“Go! Get out!” you snapped, too terrified to think on how he found you or if your meeting that day was truly a coincidence. It didn’t seem like it, “you’re crazy, get out of my--”

He marched around the table as you backed up and swung the glass at him. He caught your wrist and twisted it as he wrenched you close to him and pointed the sharp edge at your throat. The scent of him filled your lungs and mingled with the taste of wine as the glass pressed to your skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he warned, “so don’t make me.”

“Please--”

He said your name, calmly, as you drowned in his oceanic eyes. You quivered in his grasp and tensed as you tried to lean away from him, “Andy,” he offered, “that’s my real name.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want--”

“You know exactly what I want,” he hissed as he pulled away the glass and tossed it to shatter against the wall, “the same thing I always wanted… that you want.”

You took a deep breath and he clapped his hand over your mouth and tutted. His brows wrinkled in irritation and your drunken fingers bounced futilely off his shoulder. He turned you and sat you down on the couch and knelt with you, shushing you again as he settled on his knees on the floor.

“Honey, aren’t you tired of this? Of being apart? Of just… watching?” his eyes strayed from yours and he smiled as he eyed the yellow bear on your shirt, “that’s cute.”

You shook your head and murmured against his hand. His lashes flicked up and his jaw squared. His lips thinned as he considered you.

“Thing is, honey, I’d love to talk but you gotta promise not to scream,” he said, “and I mean that because I don’t want to gag you… not yet, anyway.”

Your eyes rounded and you nodded fervently as your breath puffed under his palm. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his hand slightly, moving it just an inch at a time as he watched you. You sniffled as he let his grip fall to your knee.

“Why? How…” you stuttered, “it was a mistake. Just a show--”

“You were always there,” he said as his other hand came up to your other knee and he ran his hands up and down your legs, “it didn’t sound like a mistake.” He pushed his fingers along the top of your thighs, “you enjoyed it.”

“It wasn’t… like that, just…”

He squeezed your thighs painfully and you winced. His fingers crawled up under the hem of your tee to the elastic of your panties and he hooked them beneath the fabric. You grasped his wrists in shock at his sudden movement and he looked you in the face.

“Say whatever you want, make your excuses,” he snarled, “you said you wanted me, you said it a dozen times, and I know you do.”

He tore down the cotton and you flailed out and caught yourself against the back of the couch. He rolled your panties down and untangled them from your ankles as you tried to close your legs. He kept your panties around his wrist as he stopped your knees from meeting and moved between them.

“Honey, now, I think we’ve had enough build up--”

“Hel--” you screamed and he grabbed your chin and snapped your mouth shut so that you bit your tongue.

He growled and shook your panties down over his hand. He brought up the twisted fabric and shoved it into your mouth. You tried to turn away from his grip as he stuffed the panties in with two fingers as deep as they would go and you almost gagged.

“It’s too bad,” he said, “I wanted to try that mouth… next time.”

You batted at his arms and chest and his hand shot to your throat. You stilled as he choked you, just enough for lungs to burn. He kept his hand on your neck until you sat back and he let it trail down the front of your shirt. He groped you through the fabric, rolling his thumb around your nipples as they hardened.

“I know you can be good, honey,” he hummed, “you’re just… nervous. I know what it’s like, trying to get over someone else. Trying to move on from a life you built-- a break-up, right? That lanky guy on your Insta--”

You gave a terrified flutter of your lashes and he smiled, a tight-lipped sympathetic gesture.

“Look, we’re two lonely people,” he kneaded your chest as he spoke and leaned in, “so, it only makes sense, and I promise, honey, the shows are over. It’s all for you now.”

You trembled as he dropped his hands and pulled up your shirt. He tickled your stomach with his knuckles and framed your tits with his hands as he admired them. You squirmed as he flicked them with his thumbs and leaned into you. He took one in his mouth and suckled. You whimpered as you felt a pluck in your core.

He parted with a pop and licked his lips, “I never… it was always hard to think of what you’d look like but I couldn’t picture anyone so perfect.”

Your nails dug into the couch cushions as you tried not to flinch. The glimmer of delight turned to disgust as you watched this stranger fondle you and he sealed his lips around your other nipple. You bit down on the cotton and moaned. You were so pathetic. It was your stupid moments of lonely desperation that brought you to this, that brought him to you.

His large hands spread along your sides and he pressed his fingertips into you sharply as he toyed with your nipples. He grazed his teeth along each bud and pulled back to look at you again. You grasped his shoulders as you begged him with your eyes and shook your head.

“I… always wanted to do this in the bedroom,” he said, “that’s where you usually are, huh? Touching yourself for me all alone in the dark--”

You hung your head in defeat and he pulled you forward on the cushion. He lifted you onto your feet and spun you around in the space between him and the couch. He put one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and walked you around the sofa. He paced slowly behind you as he urged you down the hall and paused to peer through your bedroom door.

“Here we are,” he said as he angled you through the door. You reached up as your jaw ached around the wad of fabric and he caught your hand and yanked it down, “I didn’t say you could do that.”

You dropped your arm and he let you go. He pressed his body to your back as he nudged you closer to the bed and stopped you right before it. He bunched your shirt in his hands and tugged it up until you raised your arms. He swiped it over your head and let it crumple beside your feet.

“Go on, sit nice and pretty for me,” he tapped your ass lightly.

Naked, you shivered as you stepped away from him and got onto the bed. You turned as you bent your legs over the edge and lowered your chin. You hugged yourself as he stood watching you with his hands on his belt.

“Don’t you worry, it’s still a show,” he said as his hands slid over to his buckle. 

He winked and ran his fingers up the front of his jacket and pulled it off. He draped it over the folding stool by your bookshelf and bent each leg to tug off his shoes. His socks followed shortly after and he squared his shoulders before he scooped his shirt up and off. He returned to his buckle and tilted his head at you.

“Look at me, honey,” he said as you stared at the pile of clothing, “we both know you love to watch.”

You raised your eyes to him and clamped your hands around your shoulders, arms crossed over your chest. He grinned and unbuckled his belt, his zipper gliding down smoothly beneath his fingers.

“You got me hard as fuck,” he said, “I didn’t like that earlier, you know? The way you ran from me.”

You just sat and tried to swallow the hopeless acceptance. He pushed down his pants and stepped out of them, his arousal bulging against his boxers. Your fingernails cut into your skin as you curled your fingers.

“You’ve been so good to me, honey,” he continued as he rolled down his boxers, “you know, I only want to return the favour. I came all this way just to get close so that--” he paused as his dick sprang up before him and he kicked away his underwear, “I can take care of you now.”

He gripped himself and stroked his length with a hum. His stomach tensed and the lines of his muscles deepened as he groaned and played with himself as he would before the camera. You were mortified as you watched him helplessly and he got closer and closer.

“Now you get the live show, honey,” he reached out and took your hand, closing it around his dick as he guided it up and down.

He moaned and hung his head back as he used both your hands on his shaft. He shuddered and leaned into your grasp. You listened to his pants as they grew quicker and quicker and he stopped you abruptly. You looked down at the glistening pre-cum as it leaked from his tip and he trailed his thumb through it as he let you go.

You flinched as he moved towards you suddenly and grabbed your hips. He lifted you and dropped you onto your back. He took your ankles and placed them against his shoulders as he stretched your legs up his torso. His cock slid along your cunt and hovered over your folds.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” he bit his lips and looked between your legs as he let go of one leg and reached down to guide himself between your lips, “oh, honey, your so sexy.”

He pushed apart your cunt with two fingers and slid in between his knuckles. He gasped as you stretched around him and you pushed your head back and whined around the fabric in your mouth. You whimpered as he drew back just a little and pushed in deeper. He rocked his hips, getting further each time as your walls strained around him.

He tilted you against him so that he reached his limit and slid his thumb along your bud. He swirled around your clit as he carried a slow motion, gliding in and out of you as you slicked around him. The tingle of his touch crept like tendrils beneath your flesh and made you clench around his dick.

He groaned and sped up, just a little as he played with you, pressing more firmly on your clit until your hand shot down over his. You didn’t move him away, only gripped his wrist as he toyed with you, fucking you deliberately as the sensation melded into a maelstrom. The twisting spring inside of you compressed and released suddenly in a ripple of sheer delight.

You groaned and bent your legs against him, raising your pelvis higher so he dipped even deeper. Your eyes rolled back and you ripped the panties from your mouth in your ecstatic trance. You balled them in your hand and writhed on his dick. 

He grasped your hips and dragged your ass over the edge of the bed and rammed into you. You cried out and he did it again. It was as if he lost all control as his pelvis slapped against you loudly and his voice rumbled through the room. You gulped and gasped as he pressed the heel of his hand to your clit and rubbed harder, his fingers stabbing sharply against your flesh.

His other hand snaked up to pinch your nipple and cup your tit. He braced you as he bent over you and fucked you furiously. He stepped up onto the edge of the bed frame as he curled your body beneath his and brought both his hands up beside your head as he held himself over you.

He plunged down into you over and over and he huffed as he watched the joining of your bodies. He growled and pulled out of you suddenly, bending your legs up as you were contorted further. He grabbed your hand again and trapped it around his dick, moving it quickly as he muttered.

He came in thick ropes onto your chest and down the folds of your stomach as you were in almost a C beneath him, his knees around your thighs. You shook and lifted his chin as he snarled and kept your hand moving, still cumming over you. He tore your grasp from him as he grew over sensitive and hung his head as he quivered.

“Shit,” he swore as he backed off of you and stood, leaning on the bed to steady himself. Your legs fell over the edge and his cum cooled across your skin, “you look good like that, honey.”

He stepped closer and pushed his fingers through the mess. You shivered and stopped his hand as you slowly returned to reality. You lifted yourself on one elbow and batted your lashes in confusion.

“How did you even find me?” you uttered.

“Doesn’t matter how,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit up gruffly, “only that I did.”

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Secret’s Out

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Bruce was looking at his emails when Y/N arrived at the table.

She was breathing heavily and her hair was a bit messy, just further proving she had rushed to get there.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she huffed embarrassingly. “My shoot ran over and every one was moving so slowly.”

Bruce smiled. “Y/N. Relax.”

Then he stood up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

The two of them hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Y/N had been traveling for work constantly. And between the vigilante life and Wayne Enterprises, Bruce was running on 2 hours of sleep on the daily.

“I need a drink,” Y/N finally sighed after she got situated.

As if on cue, their waitress dropped Y/N’s favorite drink in front of her.

Y/N eyed Bruce with surprise.

He just shrugged.

Sometimes Y/N forgot how much her father noticed literally everything.

“Thank you,” she told the waitress.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Bruce said with a disapproving look.

She rolled her eyes. “Really? You’re not one to talk, Bruce.”

“You deserve a vacation. I’ll pay for it. Pick wherever you want. Bring Jason. Or some friends.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Bruce…”

It was a warning.

From the very start of their unconventional father-daughter relationship, Y/N had made it clear that she could not be bought. And Bruce spoiling her made her extremely uncomfortable. Even now, she still tried to at least split restaurant checks with him. Bruce always won those battles though.

“I’ll take a vacation when you do,” she finally countered.

That sure shut him up.

“Hey, I actually brought you something,” Y/N changed the subject as she reached for her bag.

A moment later, she lightly placed a manila folder onto the table.

Bruce’s brow furrowed as he reached for it.

As soon as he opened it, he froze.

“I had to clean out some stuff and put things into storage,” Y/N explained. “I found all my mom’s photos. I figured I could make copies of some childhood photos for you.”

Bruce’s silence made Y/N nervous.

“If you don’t want them, that’s totally fine.” She started to reach for the folder out of Bruce’s grip with awkward embarrassment. “It was stupid–”

But Bruce quickly pulled the folder closer to him and stopped her from taking the photos from him.

“Thank you,” he announced.

It made Y/N quickly sit back in her chair, caught off guard by his sincere reaction and how he’d immediately become protective of the photos.

Bruce awkwardly cleared his throat. “Thank you, Y/N.”

He repeated to make sure she understood how thankful he truly was. And Y/N suspected the throat clearing was to hide his emotions.

Now she watched as Bruce slowly went through every picture. He took in every detail with a soft smile.

These weren’t just photos. These were all of Y/N’s memories that Bruce missed, that he could never get back. And he was savoring all of them.

Then Bruce paused and was fully smiling now.

“What?” Y/N asked.

She didn’t know why all of this made her so nervous.

Bruce didn’t say anything as he lifted a photo and flipped it to show her.

It wasn’t from her childhood.

It was a black and white photo of Jason. A candid from when he had escorted her around the slums of Gotham for her most recent gallery show.

After months of thinking about it, Y/N finally had decided she wanted to frame it and hang it somewhere in her apartment. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped with embarrassment and she ripped it from his hands.

“I was developing some photos at the same time as I was making the copies. Must’ve gotten mixed up in those,” Y/N explained too quickly, unable to meet Bruce’s gaze.

It made Bruce happy to know that Y/N didn’t have the same inability to love someone and let people in like he did. It was a relief that she didn’t isolate herself from it like he had. If her mother was still alive, Bruce would thank her for it. But if Y/N’s mother were alive, he would’ve never known about Y/N in the first place.

Their entire dinner was spent with Bruce looking at the old photos. He had at least two questions for each one. Some of them Y/N didn’t remember being taken. But most of them came with stories or a loving memory.

Y/N talked for most of the meal. But that’s exactly what Bruce wanted.

Furthermore, Bruce had nothing of value to update her on. Batman business had consumed his life as of lately, and he had made a promise to never involve Y/N in any of it. And Jason seemed to be on the same page when it came to his other life as Red Hood. 

Both men seemed determined to keep her safe and away from it all. 

Two hours later, Bruce was paying the check and helping Y/N into her coat.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he muttered as they started walking out.

Y/N had learned by now to give up on those small battles. Jason was the same way when it came to making sure she got home safely.

As they made their way to the exit, Y/N caught a few stares from other patrons who were still eating.

“Do you ever get used to it?” She asked her father in a low voice.

“Get used to what?” He asked, genuinely unaware of what she was getting at.

“People gawking at you.”

Bruce glanced around and unintentionally glared at anyone who was staring at Y/N.

“It’s good that I’m seen in public…for obvious reason,” he hinted in a quiet voice, obviously talking about needing the cover to continue his life as a masked vigilante.

Once they were outside, Alfred was already waiting at the curb with the Rolls-Royce. He greeted Y/N with a hug and a kiss to her cheek before opening the door for her and Bruce.

When they got to Y/N’s apartment building, she said her goodbyes to Alfred. And Bruce walked Y/N all the way up to her door.

Even though Y/N insisted it was overkill and she could get up the stairs on her own just fine, Bruce had seen too many terrible things in this forsaken city. He could think of thousands of things that could happen to Y/N between the car and her front door.

Once Y/N realized that Bruce’s paranoia came from experience, she stopped trying to stop his chivalry and overprotective ways. She finally understood that Bruce had seen things that would prevent her from ever sleeping again. So if walking Y/N to her door gave him a little peace of mind, she wasn’t going to take that away from him.

Y/N turned to Bruce when they reached her door. “Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course. I’m glad we could spend some time together. Thank you again for the photos.”

Y/N didn’t realize that Bruce was about to hang every single one around Wayne Manor. 

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. “Get home safe.”

——————

Y/N woke up wrapped strong arms, her body overheating slightly.

When she had come home from dinner last night, Jason had already left for patrol.

He hadn’t woken her up when he got back home, just proving how exhausted Y/N had been these past few weeks.

But it was the continuous buzzing vibrations of her phone that woke her up. When she brightened the screen, she saw that she had dozens of text messages and three missed called from Bruce.

“What the fuck,” Y/N whispered as she started opening them.

But they were all about the same thing.

Everyone had sent her similar articles from various gossip websites or news outlets.

BRUCE WAYNE’S NEW GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER Y/F/N Y/L/N

BRUCE WAYNE’S FLAVOR OF THE WEEK

IS Y/F/N Y/L/N USING THE PRINCE OF GOTHAM TO FURTHER HER CAREER?

All of the headlines were joined with photos of Bruce and Y/N having dinner last night. Apparently other customers at the restaurant had snuck photos of Bruce greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Y/N could see how it would be misinterpreted as romantic and not familial or platonic. But it still made her sick to see the photos twisted in such a way.

Then there were paparazzi photos of them getting in a car together. Of course there were none of Bruce dropping her off and them going their separate ways. That would be just too convenient for the two of them. 

Y/N’s stomach dropped with panic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she gasped without realizing it.

Jason immediately woke up. “What is it?”

Y/N ignored him and called Bruce.

“I’m handling it,” was how Bruce answered her call.

“Handling it? How exactly?” She challenged. “We can deny the rumors all we want. But everyone is going to keep tabs on us now, and they’re going to see us together again.”

Jason grabbed his own phone.

One of his brothers must’ve sent him a similar article because he rubbed his face in annoyance, finally understanding the situation. 

Nothing like your girlfriend being rumored to have a relationship with her father, who was also your mentor and adoptive father. 

“Y/N, it will blow over. It always does,” Bruce tried to calm her down.

“So what happens when I get photographed with Jason? Huh? They’re going to just say I’m cheating on both of you with each other or some fucked up shit like that.”

Bruce was silent, because they both knew she was right.

Y/N glanced at Jason, who was already waiting for her gaze.

She took in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe we should…Maybe we should just tell the truth.”

“You’ve never wanted that, Y/N.” Bruce tried to argue.

And he was right.

Y/N was terrified of being associated with the Wayne family. People would start believing she secretly built her career off of nepotism that no one was aware of. She also didn’t want that type of attention from the media and the upperclass of Gotham.

“I don’t think we have any other choice,” Y/N finally answered.

Jason reached for thigh and gripped it, trying to offer her some sort of comfort.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked slowly.

“No. Not at all. But I’d rather not have the public think I’m dating my biological father.”

“OK,” Bruce sighed. “I’ll talk to my publicist today.”

“OK.” She bit her lip before adding. “Just…tell them the whole story.”

“Y/N, if you’re worried how it will make me look, don’t.”

“But I am worried about it, Bruce. They’re going to drag you for being an absent father. And none of that is true. They’re not gonna understand.”

“I’ll call you later with an update,” he told her softly before hanging up.

Y/N tossed her phone to the foot of the bed in frustration.

Jason watched as she buried her face in her hands.

“You OK?” He asked as he rubbed her back.

“No,” she answered honestly.

“Come here.” Jason pulled her into his chest.

There was no fight from her as he cuddled her tightly.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” she groaned into his shoulder.

“I know. But maybe it’s for the best,” he tried to reason with her.

“And what happens when they catch wind that I’m dating my father’s adoptive son? Huh?”

“We’re not actually related, Y/N.”

She pulled her face back so she could glare at him. “Yeah! We know that! But you do understand that people are going to see it that way, right? Like we’re gonna look like some fucked up incestual couple to them.”

“I don’t really care,” Jason finally told her.

“You don’t care?” She scoffed.

“No,” his answer and confidence didn’t waver. “I don’t give a fuck what people say about us, Y/N. If exposing the truth means we don’t have to think twice about going to events or even just going out to dinner, then I’m all for it. I’m sick of hiding our relationship.”

Y/N blinked. She never considered that their subtle relationship bothered him in any way. She was always a strangely private person, so it felt normal to her. But clearly Jason had been wanting to be a bit more public with their relationship.

“What if this changes everything?” Y/N whispered, not meeting his eyes.

Jason smirked at that and gripped her chin, lifting it up so she would look at him. “Some paparazzi and trash tabloids aren’t going to change how I feel about you, Y/N.”

Y/N laughed lightly at that.

“Maybe we should leave Gotham for a bit,” she offered. “Bruce won’t shut up about paying for a vacation for us.”

Jason nodded. “I think that sounds like a good idea. You’ve needed a break for awhile now.”

“Well…where do you wanna go?” Y/N asked.

“Doesn’t matter to me. As long as you’re there.”

She rolled her eyes and hit Jason in the face with a pillow. “God, you really are a sap.”

Y/N appreciated Jason always being able to make her feel better and feel supported. 

But even he couldn’t stop her from wondering...

What would life be like as a Wayne?

------------------------------

Father of Mine – Bonus Content

[absoluteindulgence]

Imagine being that couple that breaks the bed during... y'know🥴 pt.2

A/N: Hey Y’all, I’m back at it again with the back at it again lmaooo Part 2 is here and I hope y’all like it.... This one is a little bit more vulgar (Characters are aged up 18+)  Here’s PT. 1 for those who haven’t/or want to read it.  And thank you guys so much for OVER 1K NOTES ON THE FIRST ONE. I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS GONE GO OFF LIKE THAT 🥺. AND I’M GLAD I MADE Y’ALL LAUGH AND FEEL THE SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT LOL

🌋KIRISHIMA🌋

On your way there, you wonder if his honesty is going to be the result of another flustered mess that you can't see your way out of

You get to the store, and immediately everyone greets you; your face is welcoming, but on the inside, your grieving.

Kiri goes up to a clerk focusing on curtains and asks where to find a bed frame.

Willing to help, they show you where to acquire them. Kiri asks about different sets doing his best to seek out more superb quality. The clerk is understanding, looking to please their current customer, informing that they have more in the back.

He's grateful, and playfully the clerk asks why y'all need a new bed frame, and Kiri says,

"She called me “Big Daddy Riot,” and I snapped, and now we're here."

So straight to the point, the clerk blankly stares at you, but you hide your face not to make eye contact.

"A-anyway, whatever sturdy frame you have is fine, no matter the cost," pulling out his wallet, he says, "I'm ready to pay."

Now you should be embarrassed but now... You're kinda turned on. He was so serious about taking care of this that calling him big daddy was totally worth it.

No matter the purchase, he's very thorough with his expectations, the manly way.

And there’s just something so manly about a man pulling out his wallet with that "I'm willing to pay" attitude. Whether it's his tone, the way he grips his wallet, imagining it’s you being gripped like that (again)...🤤

You smile awkwardly to the clerk, “Give us your best, please?”

And so they do, not only with a complimentary warranty that you can renew anytime but with WATERPROOF SHEETS.

Heading back to the car, Kiri packs everything in the trunk and backseat, then comes to your side of the car. You get in saying, “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” 

"Well, don’t speak too soon, Princess. They just gave us some high-quality merchandise, but we don’t know how long it’ll last.” Pulling out of the parking lot, he looks at you with a quick wink, “I mean, not everything can be unbreakable like me, right babe?"

⚡DENKI⚡

This spicy, smart-ass.

It's definitely your fault, and he's gonna remind you all the way there.

Getting in the store, it’s not your first time there, so you already know where to find the frames.

Only you care that it matches the rest of the bedroom’s aesthetic, which could make the process harder.

Denki teases you, saying that it doesn't matter and that you should just choose a bed frame so that y'all can go the fuck home.

A clerk nearby sees y'all having a hard time, offering to help.

You tell them that you need a bed frame that fits your eccentric bedroom. They understand and go through the ones that you've already seen.

You say that you need something more robust than what's been displayed.

They nod, telling you they have the perfect set, disappearing to the back. They come back, and the set is perfect, but Denki is a skeptic.

"Hold on, babe, I'll handle this" He inspects the box looking at the weight of it, leaving no word on the damn box unread. He finishes and says, "Sorry, just had to make sure, wouldn’t want a part 2 of Pew Pew now, would we?"

Your eyes dart to him, the clerk is confused, "What's Pew Pew?"

Imitating a prince-charming tone, he says, "The weakness my true love bestows upon me it is strong and keeps me on edge."

The clerk waits for you to explain, but you say nothing.

Breaking out of character, he says, "Basically, she got on top of me and wanted to spell out my name, resulting in...... yeah."

He shows a photo, and your stomach drops to your ass, "WHEN DID YOU TAKE THOSE?????"

"When your fine ass was taking a shower, you're crazy if you thought I would keep this to myself!"

Y’all get the set, and buy more towels and get complimentary candles. You put Denki on WAP suspension too 😔 , lmao.

📼SERO📼

No offense but y'all a goofy-ass couple lmao

Y'all just be doing anything in the bedroom and now y'all at the store looking GOOFY-HYUCK

"Well, it started with how high could she jump onto me, and it resulted in a WWE match...."

Sero showed pictures of the private handy work that led you two to go shopping for something more sturdy...

Why the fuck does the room look like discount Cirque Du Soleil? His tape is all over the fucking ceiling, on the floor, and most importantly the bed frame because you dizzy, one brain cell together having asses tried taping the bed back together just to keep on fucking

Resulting in the frame FALLING TO SHREDS

The clerk has never seen no chaotic shit like this in their life!

It is so fucking bad they have to use EYE DROPS, just to confirm WTF they're looking at

"I know it looks bad, but at least we're not hurt" He smiles so earnest it’s almost as you weren't sexually destructive beings.

The clerk disappeared, coming back after 10 minutes with 3 other clerks as they carried a set filled with steel, metal chains, and high-quality leather.

The clerk said, "This is a one of a kind set; if you manage to break it, we will personally build you a steel cage so that your wrestling match can continue."

Sero looks at you, excited, "Wow, Babe, let's buy it."

Y’all buy the bed set and get a lifetime coupon of high-quality sex toys sent to your home, and of course, y’all try the shit out without thinking of the aftermath.

Back at square one, and the clerks are scared of y’all now 

😈SHINSOU👿

Already at the store and Shinsou is doing all the talking to the clerk~

"I told her to go to sleep; she defied me, so I had to punish her..." Realizing he said it out loud, he looked at your face.

If only you could Thanos yourself

The clerk looked slightly uncomfortable, "Well, from what you are describing, I don't know how that would result in breaking the bed."

"Well, my Kitten is a little disobedient and needs many forms of... persuasion."

Putting his hand on your shoulder, he showed his wicked smirk.  

I mean, was he wrong? He wouldn't even let you do the talking. If you spoke out, he would turn up the vibrator attached to your clit.

That was the challenge he placed on you before y’all left the house, and you willingly obliged until he told you his condition. Now he had total power to switch the narrative like it wasn’t him waking you up in the middle of the night after coming back from a long day of heroism.

The clerk squinted at you with a worried/ suspicious look... "O-okay, give me a moment."

They come back out with an exclusive set that was just imported overseas. The box images make it look so beautiful and regal; you’re shocked, wanting to tell him how much you love it but don’t wanna say.

Knowing Shinsou, it’s a trap to punish you.

"Wow, that’s beautiful. We’ll take it.”

Sometimes his dominant side pisses you off, but it’s clearly a turn on, you want to mouth off, but you nod instead.

Shinsou pays for the bed frame along with some pillows, and the clerk offers complimentary essential oils that you can come back and get free refills.

Heading to the car, Shinsou sweetly asks, “Now that we have reinforcements, are you ready to go again, Kitten?"

[httpnxtt]

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily! 

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise​ , @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ , and @definitelynotkatesblog​ !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

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

In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in. 

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others. 

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day. 

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation. 

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man. 

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter. 

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files. 

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer. 

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained. 

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more. 

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut. 

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money. 

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away. 

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face. 

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist. 

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree. 

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair. 

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files. 

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again. 

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me. 

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture. 

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand. 

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it. 

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily. 

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant. 

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child. 

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug. 

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me. 

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen. 

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug. 

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat. 

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding. 

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face. 

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further. 

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate. 

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time. 

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth. 

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee. 

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over. 

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile. 

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics. 

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake. 

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order. 

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake. 

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off. 

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him. 

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying. 

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over. 

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image. 

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me. 

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts. 

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk. 

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection. 

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up. 

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way. 

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes, 

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper. 

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

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

Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​  @redbullchick​  @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​   @reidetic​ @gretaamyk​ @sunlight-moonrise​ @prettyricky187​ @rileysann​ @itslatinamagia​ @timey-wimey-lovi​  @pinkdiamond1016​

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - 7

I know we are in full Rowaelin month but I thought to give you part 7 as a present...

There is a small library scene in perfect theme with Day 4. (This is not part of Rowaelin month. Just a coincidence)

The chapters are getting less angsty. As I mentioned in a post a few days ago... i Finished the story and it has 10 parts. That was the original plan and I promise a HEA

-------

Rowan had spent the entire day going through all of their albums. Evalin had offered to look after Freyja, but instead he had kept the girl in his arms while sitting on the carpet and and album in front of him.

He had just finished the one about Thomas and now opened the one dedicated to his daughter. They were both still a working in progress as it looked like Aelin would just record the stages in their lives.

“Look, who is this one?” The little girl pointed at the picture and babbled something.

“This is you.” He told her in a loving tone “the most precious thing in our lives with your brother.”

“You did it, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed the head of an exhausted Aelin, while the doctors were busy cleaning and checking on their daughter.

The nurse walked to them with a bundle in her arms and gave it to Aelin “I think your daughter is ready to meet you.” And placed the baby on Aelin’s chest.

Rowan sat at her side, his arms around her shoulder as he drew closer his two women.

“She is like you, Ro.”

He kissed her forehead “I love you both. Madly.”

In another photo he saw Thomas in the hospital bed near her mother, kissing his sister head and the caption read Thomas is officially a big brother and he finally gets to meet his sister. 

“ ‘Mas” babbled Freyja, pointing at the photo.

“Yes, that is your brother.”

Page by page he followed his daughter life and as it happened for Thomas, some moments became familiar all of a sudden.

Looking at photos had been a great idea but with Aelin’s captions had been even better as it was as if someone was actually telling him the story.

He looked at a couple of more albums but then he felt an headache coming and his vision was getting tired as well, so he grabbed Freyja and went to lie down on the sofa, making sure that she was tucked in safely between him and the back of the sofa. Evalin was busy doing chores around the house. He pulled the little girl to his chest and he started humming a tune while his hand caressed her head.

Not long after they were both asleep.

Evalin appeared back in the living room not long after and when she saw the scene in front of her she almost cried. Then she took her phone and snapped a picture and sent it to Aelin Your husband and your daughter are having some quality time together.

*

“How’s the study session going?” A younger Rowan paused beside a table in a university library.

The blonde woman in front of him groaned in exasperation “med school. Of all the degrees I choose from, I went for the worst one.” Her head collapsed heavily on the books in front of her “I want to be a neurosurgeon, I don’t care about the kidneys. Why am I studying this crap?”

Rowan smiled and placed a cup of coffee on the table “you need caffeine.”

Aelin lifted her head “yes, in IV.” She extended her arm and Rowan chuckled “you are the doctor, you will have to perform that on yourself.” He laughed and patted her head “I can tell you the legal repercussions of me performing such a procedure without a licence.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and drank avidly “smartass.”

“A smartass you love?”

“Keep dreaming, Whitethorn.”

When he woke up again he was not ready for the splitting headache. He tried to sit up but dizziness hit him hard and then a wave of nausea. He jumped off the sofa but crashed on the carpet. Rowan fought to stand up but his body refused to obey “Evalin,” he croaked, grabbing his head in his hands.

A moment later Evalin was at his side “Rowan, are you okay?”

He crashed back down on the carpet and groaned. Evalin slowly helped him to sit back up and she felt panic rise “I should call Aelin.”

“No,” said Rowan in a whisper as he stood shakily and sat at the opposite side of the sofa away from his sleeping daughter. He should not be around the kids. No one should be around him while he was in that state.

And in that instant nausea hit again and he grabbed his stick and slowly dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and emptied the content of his stomach in the toilet.

***

Aelin had just finished surgery when she noticed the worried text from her mother. Rowan was not well.

She changed from the scrubs, paged her second, told him she had a family emergency and that she had to go back home. They all knew her situation and he was understanding. She had finished her surgeries for the day so finishing early was not much of an issue.

She drove home with her heart racing with panic. She knew the complications after a brain injury and she was worried. Her mother had not specified what happened but her tone seemed frantic.

Once in front of the house she parked quickly and once in the house she found it quiet. Her mother was sitting on the sofa reading to Freyja and Thomas was on the carpet playing with his toy cars.

“Where is he?”

Evalin looked up at her “in bed. He was sick, complaining of strong headaches and he said he was tired.”

Aelin dropped her backpack and ran for the bedroom and found him asleep.

She walked to him and sat at his side at the edge on the bed and slowly caressed his head. Her strong, amazing husband looked fragile, tucked in bed and sleeping on his side. The time in the hospital had left his mark and his frame was now thinner. Her hand ran through his hair once again and then deposited a gentle kiss and in that instant his eyes popped open as she chastised herself for it.

“Hi you,”

“Hi,” his voice gruff “you are home.”

“Mum texted me that you were not well.”

He tried to sit up but Aelin kept him down “you need to rest. What are your symptoms?”

Rowan’s head collapsed back on the pillow “headache, dizziness and nausea.”

Aelin’s hand was in his hair again “it’s normal. From one to ten, how bad is the headache?”

“Seven.”

She stood and came back a moment later with a glass of water and a tablet “Just a light dose to help you a bit.”

Rowan took the water and the medicine and once he was done Aelin lay down at his side, snuggling  close to him, her hand on his chest. Rowan’s arms as if on instinct went around her frame but did not hug her tight. He had no energy.

“I dreamt…” he closed his eyes for a second “I dreamt of us in the library. You were complaining about your degree and kidneys,” he told her softly “I brought you coffee.”

Aelin chuckled against his chest. She did remember exactly the day “that was when I started to fall for you.”

“Tell me,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.

“Somehow you had memorised my schedule,” she began her tale “so you would pop up in the library and keep me company studying. You with your laws and me with my crazy med stuff.” She looked up at him and found her husband staring at her “during my anatomy exam you offered to be my skeleton and I revised on you.” She flicked his nose and the gentle flinch of his nose reminded her so much of him, his usual reaction “At the end of a crazy exam you brought me cake and once my session of exams was over you asked me out.”

Rowan gave her a weak smile and she could see the tiredness in his face “you asked me to move in with you on my birthday and my present were the keys to your flat. I moved out of mine the next day and Aedion moved in with Lysandra and took my place.”

“Are we good friends with them?” He asked with interest. So far they had never discussed their friends and he thought it was time to try.

Aelin nodded “Aedion is my cousin. Lys and I were flatmates and she is my best friend.” Her hand brushed his hair once again, the gesture was relaxing and Rowan seemed to enjoy it too, his features much more relaxed “then we have Lorcan and Elide and the six of us kinda form a nice tight group.”

“Do they know about my condition?”

Aelin nodded “I explained to them and the only reason they haven’t visited is because I knew it was going to be too much so I told them to wait.”

“Thank you,” he said softly while his hand brushed her back “I can’t just yet.”

Aelin nodded again and his expression morphed as if he wanted to ask her something but hesitate. His hand moved “can I?” And Aelin knew what he meant. She took his hand and pushed it under her t-shirt and on her tiny baby bump “I don’t know yet if it’s a girl or a boy. I have a check up in two weeks and will see if we can find out the sex.”

His thumb moved gently as if to greet their child with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.

“I should let you rest,” Aelin tried to move but his hand grabbed her writs and pulled her back down against him. He had been enjoying that moment they had shared. His arms went around her frame and pulled her to him. 

“You love to cuddle.”

“Do I?” He told her rising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes when mum takes the kids we do enjoy a lot of naked, adult cuddling.”

Rowan’s heart raced in terror “I am not…” he stopped “I can’t yet.”

“Shh…” said Aelin, placing a gentle finger on his lips “We are not doing anything you do not want to do.” She told him with love.

He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin, and the position felt familiar all of a sudden, her scent enveloping his nostrils. Everything about her felt familiar, the shape of her body against his, her scent, they way she fit perfectly in his arms.

They were in silence for a moment until two small cyclones joined them.

“Dad.” Shouted Thomas quite loudly and Rowan groaned, his head not appreciating the decibels coming from his son.

“Quiet, Tom, dad is not well.”

The little boy zipped his lips and climbed in bed. Freyja padded to her father’s side and extended her arms in a gesture to be picked up. Rowan turned and lifted his daughter in his arms and pushed her under the blankets with Thomas and Aelin joined them a moment later.

“We are keeping company to dad but we need to be quiet. Can we do that?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Freyja kept sucking on her pacifier. The little girl climbed on her father chest and Rowan rolled on his back to help her curl up properly. Thomas was tucked in at his side and Aelin’s arm reached over and enveloped them.

“Sorry, they really missed you.”

Rowan shook his head “this feels really nice and normal.”

Aelin smiled and brushed Thomas’ hair “believe me on a weekend it is, and if I am not working the four of us love a long morning in bed together.”

He chuckled and loved the image “What about the names?”

Aelin grabbed Freyja’s hand in her and kissed it “Thomas was a character in a sci-fi series that we both love. He is an Admiral and quite amazing. He is actually my fictional husband. Freyja, we took it from a mythology book.”

Rowan laughed “so I have competition.”

“Can you be an admiral?”

“I order you to kiss me, soldier.” Rowan felt a smile tug at his lips and Aelin stared at him with fondness. Then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Bleah,” said Thomas in protest. Aelin stamped a big kiss on his cheek “feeling better now?” And the boy grinned and climbed down from the bed “lego.” And he ran away.

Aelin sighed “he has a lot of energy.” And now that her son space had been vacated she scooted closer to Rowan and her hand was on the girl’s back on top of Rowan’s.

“I love the kids. It’s been only a few days but I love them madly already.” He whispered looking down at his sleeping daughter. Then back at Aelin and for a brief moment he saw sadness in her eyes. Loving the kids had been easy. His feelings for her were far more complicated. He felt something but could not put a name on it yet.

“With you is…” he paused, searching for the right words. He had caused enough pain already “complicated. There is something, I can feel it, but I don’t know if it’s just the memories or my actual feelings.” His hand ran through his hair “I don’t know how to explain it clearly.”

Aelin kissed his forehead tenderly. For as much as she wanted her husband back, she was not going to rush him. He would need time and she was willing to wait. She had waited at his bedside for so long to have him awake again that she was happy to take even the small acts of affection he was willing to give her.

“I want you to have your husband back, and I am trying…”

“Shhh…” she said to him, a gentle kiss on his lips “I have him back, and I can see more of him coming back everyday. You don’t realise it but he is there.” She patted his chest “My husband is right here in my arms.”

Rowan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him for a fierce kiss. Aelin melted at the contact. The kiss felt like coming home and for a moment it swept away all her fears.

“Does your husband kiss you like that?” The smirk on his face and his playful tone was him and she pulled back, coming up for air. 

“Seems like you remember this part very well.”

“It does help that my wife is stunning.”

Aelin smiled. He had called her his wife. Had he accepted his life? Had he accepted them?

She looked at him in his pine green eyes looking for an answer.

“Yes.”

[spacedikut]

throwback ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: you see a picture of young spencer and find him way too attractive. 1306 words

a/n: the gif is the spencer im talking abt btw

When you step into the bullpen, after delivering files to Hotch, everything is in a state of chaos. Well, compared to what it usually is.

“Y/N! You need to see this!”

JJ waves you over to Morgan’s desk, where Emily is already giggling as Rossi grins, arms crossed. You instinctively look to Spencer’s desk, and his head is resting on a stack of files. You have no idea what’s happening.

Morgan’s chuckling when you approach and peak to look at what’s showing on his monitor. It’s a series of pictures, ones you’ve never seen before, and you immediately notice that you’re not in any of them. So these were taken before you joined the BAU?

Morgan, still chuckling, moves the mouse to enlarge a picture in the far right. The second it opens and you realise who it is, you gasp.

“Spencer?! Is that you?!”

Spencer groans from his desk. The picture, that you assume was taken by press during a case, is perfect quality, so you see every detail. Spencer’s hair is parted at the side and slicked, giving him side-swooping bangs that you never would’ve thought looked good until you saw it on him. He’s wearing a sweater vest, obviously, which combined with his seemingly too big grey jacket makes him look like he’s wearing his grandfather’s clothes.

The most important part is his glasses.

You’ve seen Spencer in glasses several times. There’s been abrupt early starts that mean he hasn’t had time to shove contact lenses in, and several occasions when you’ve stayed over one another’s place that he’s either gotten irritated with his lenses and swapped them for his glasses in exasperation, or when he’s simply forgotten to wear his lenses.

But the glasses combined with the hair and the pure, almost naïve aura radiating off him from the picture is electrifying.

He looks like a teacher’s assistant. One you’d have the biggest crush on.

You giggle when Spencer doesn’t lift his head and amble your way towards him, “You were awfully cute, Spencer.”

He glances up and his eyes peek up at you. “I looked like a nerd.”

“Some say you still do.” Emily pipes up.

There’s a laugh from everyone at her comment, but you’re still staring at Spencer. He looks a little embarrassed, definitely shy, then you realise he’s still looking at you, too. With rosy cheeks, you raise your eyebrows.

“When was that taken?”

Spencer shrugs, but you know he knows the precise date, “A good few years before you joined the team. It was one of my first cases with the BAU, and my mom printed the picture out to frame it.”

Your jaw drops in excitement at the revelation and Morgan claps once, “She must’ve been so proud! Her baby boy a real agent-“

Spencer’s attention sways to Morgan, “God, where did Garcia even find those pictures?! They’re so old and-“

“I’m sad I never got to see that Spencer in real life.” You say quietly.

That catches Spencer’s attention and, with doe eyes, he asks, “Really?”

“Yeah! I can’t believe I missed that version of you.” You scrunch your nose at the thought, “If only I graduated earlier…”

A new case comes in, then, and as you drop some things off at your desk before heading to the conference room, Spencer can’t help but warmly stare at you, an idea brewing.

***

The case is done and dusted, unsub arrested and few lives taken as possible within record time. This means everyone in the BAU is ecstatic; Hotch got to take a whole day off to spend with Jack, JJ went somewhere cute with Will and Henry, and Emily did whatever Emily does. Everyone was undeniably refreshed and rejuvenated after being given two days off (two!!) and you’re still riding the high of completing a thousand piece puzzle. It’s the little things, okay?

You would’ve spent the time off with Spencer, but he was “otherwise occupied”, which you have no idea what that meant and still don’t. You intend to pester him for details when he gets into work.

You don’t have to wait for his arrival for long.

You’re in the kitchen, gently blowing on the coffee you just poured into the I-heart-Texas mug Spencer once bought you (you’re a sucker for tacky tourist gifts) when you hear shuffling behind you. You turn, lips still puckered to blow air on the steaming liquid, and you choke on your breath.

Are you hallucinating?

Listen, you don’t really want to admit you’ve spent an alarming amount of time thinking about fresh-faced Spencer Reid when he first joined the BAU, but you have. Garcia sent a team-wide email with all of the pictures, and you couldn’t help but take another look (an understatement) – you just… can’t get over how adorable he was. Is. He’s still heart-achingly adorable.

But maybe you should admit to exactly how many times you looked at the photos, cause baby-faced Spencer Reid with his sweater vest, slicked hair and stylish glasses is giving you a tight-lipped smile and small wave from the kitchen entrance.

“Whoa.” Is all you can say.

Spencer, one had in his trousers pocket and the other scratching the back of his head, shyly says, “Surprise?”

The coffee cup makes a distinct thunk as you place it on the kitchen counter due to the deafening silence between you two. You’re looking him up and down, effectively checking him out, and Spencer feels this burn inside of him – it starts from his stomach and ignites outwards, up through his lungs and heart to the tips of his fingers, his ears, and the apples of his cheeks.

You’re checking him out. You’re speechless. Spencer’s glad he spent the entirety of his time off trying to perfectly re-create his early years look just for you.

“You like it?” He glances down at his attire, nudging his glasses up his nose when they slide down.

YES!

“Yeah, I-“ You give an airy laugh at your inability to form sentences, “You haven’t aged a day, huh?”

“Actually, humans start to age as soon as they reach adulthood, which is typically about twenty-five years old. So I’ve been aging for nearly three years now.”

You’re still staring in awe and the burn Spencer feels hasn’t lessened, “It’s a good look for you, Spence. I would’ve totally had a crush on you if you went to my college.”

The words come out nonchalantly but you regret them instantly – you just told him he looks the exact same and then that you’d have a crush on him if he went to your college.. it doesn’t take a genius to pick up what you’re putting down, right?

Spencer bites his lip. With the way you’re looking at him, he gets a rush of adrenaline and boldly asks, “What about now?”

“Huh?”

“Would you have a crush on me now?”

Your eyes widen and Spencer almost feels rejected, but the smile you’re fighting reassures him. “Do you want me to?”

Spencer almost scoffs and says of course, “I-I would like that. Yes.”

“Good,” You nod, “We could… discuss this in more detail tonight? If you’re not busy?”

“I am not busy tonight. Seven o’clock?” He suggests with a shy smile.

Spencer’s almost bouncing off the walls. You’re struggling to contain your own excitement – you need to leave so you can go scream with Garcia.

“Seven is great. Keep the look.” You give him another head-to-toe survey, and it pains you to pick up your coffee and move to leave the kitchen.

All Spencer can do is nod and beam when you walk away. He falls back, stabilising himself on the counter behind him. He has to take a deep breath to ground himself.

Holy hell, he thinks. If you look at him like that one more time, he might faint.

[blueposthings]

Little Informant (pt. 2)

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Words: 2.1k+

---------------------------

You had taken your time in getting back home, the fifteen minute walk turned to two hours when you decided to take a stroll around town. It was late, too late for a frail girl like you to be roaming the streets of New York all by yourself. But you had to clear your mind. Besides, with your self-defense skills along with the trusty butterfly knife you always had with you at all times, you were pretty confident.

However, when you finally arrived back at your apartment, you had noticed several things out of place; the dust on the right side of the door frame, two feet above the floor, had a gap, you were sure you hadn’t touched it; the nail of one of the panels on the creaky floorboard was slanted, someone had tripped on it.

There was an intruder in your house.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your jacket pocket before reaching for your keys, intentionally shaking it in your fingers. You turned your keys and opened the door with your left hand, the knife on your right, ready to fight. When no one ambushed you, you crouched down like you were going to untie your shoes when in fact you reached for the gun you had stored below the shoe cabinet.

You replaced the knife in your hold with the handgun, holding it firmly with both of your hands before peeking out from the corner of your doorway. Sure enough, stood a man about six feet tall dressed in all black in your poor excuse of a kitchen, you noticed he was holding a pistol of his own in one hand and a framed picture of you and your father in the other.

“You do look like him, you know?” He said, acknowledging your presence.

“Who are you?” You had your gun trained on him. Your gaze unwavering, despite your heart trying to beat out of your ribcage.

“You can consider me an old family friend.” The man placed the frame back to the countertop as he turned to you.

“Why are you here?” You stood your ground at the front doorway as he approached you slowly, his gun in hand.

“When you opened that laptop, it sent a signal to us. We thought Rumlow had come back from the dead so I offered to go.” He said, ever so casually. “Then I found these photos and, I gotta say, I’m quite surprised. I never took your father as- well, a father.”

He was only a few feet in front of you now, your gun pointed straight to his chest. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“If you’re anything like Brock, you could be a great asset to us, Y/N-”

“How do you know my name?”

“Perhaps, you might want to consider joining us? Your father would be proud.”

“I’m not an asset,” you gritted out. “And I’m nothing like him.”

This perked your intruder’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Oh?”

You realized then that you might have spilled something you shouldn’t have. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, your hands struggling to keep your weapon steady.

“Do tell me, Y/N. What did you do with the information from that laptop?” His tone was now much sharper, accusing.

You searched your brain to try and find a believable lie, something that wouldn’t put your life in danger. In your moment of silence, the man in front of you grew impatient and furious.

“Where were you just now?”

“None of your business.” You finally said, your voice giving you away with a crack.

“What a shame.” The man sighed, bowing his head to the floor for a second. “I hope Brock’s gonna forgive me for this one.” Then he raised his gun at you, with anger in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow down when you pulled your trigger. However, the man managed to avoid it at the last second, the bullet only hitting his shoulder. The force pushed him back and he let go of his gun, his good hand holding his wound.

“Little shit.” He cursed before charging at you.

You re-aimed your gun, but due to the close distance between the two of you, he successfully pushed it away. He used his whole body weight to knock you back to the wall, resulting in you losing your grip of the pistol in your hand. You grabbed your knife from your pocket, forcing the butt to his head, making him groan as he stumbled ever so slightly. You pushed him back by the injured shoulder, your thumb digging in to the bullet wound. You then kneed him in the stomach, your dominant hand twirling open the knife and stabbing him in the back. You pushed his body off of you with all your might and tried to make a run for it.

You only managed to get a couple of steps away when he grabbed your foot. You tripped and fell face first to the floor. You groaned, your head was spinning and you could feel blood oozing from your nose. The intruder dragged himself up with his good arm while you tried to collect yourself. You still had the knife in your hand so you tried to land another stab to his leg, but he blocked it, grabbing your hand and twisting it so you’d drop the weapon. But what you lack in size and power, you made up with agility -when he yanked your arm up, you used the momentum to help you jump up and straddle his neck with your two legs, your arms holding him in a choke hold. He tried to get you off but between the bullet and the stab wound, he was already losing a lot of blood. He stumbled around, crashing through your coffee table and one of your bookshelves. At one point he went close enough to the TV stand where you had an old glass vase on top. You grabbed the vase and swung it to his face, it broke and he fell unconscious with you below him. You were sure you must have heard a crack, but with the adrenaline numbing your pain you couldn't tell if it was his bone or yours.

------------

When you noticed he wasn’t moving, you took a second to collect your breath. Eventually, you pushed him off and got up, grabbing your knife and both guns before running off.

“And we believe the kid?” Clint crossed his arms. He stared at the back of his teammate’s head, almost seeing the cogs in his skull turning.

“Yes, I know she was telling the truth.” Steve said, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. “I could feel it.”

“No offense, Cap. But when it comes to the sake of the planet’s security, I would rather not go on gut feeling.”

“Have you considered maybe this is just your guilt speaking?” Natasha chimed into the conversation from the other side of the table.

Steve was silent for a moment. “It’s not,” he finally said, although it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“As much as I hate to say this, but I think the oldman’s right,” Tony sat back down on the closest chair to the front of the room. “I don’t think she was lying, at least not about this.”

“I say, it is better to be safe than sorry.” Vision spoke up, his gaze not leaving the files displayed on the holograms.

“He’s got a point. We have this information- the location of everything. Why don’t we go see for ourselves.” Rhodes added.

When no one interjected, the room took it as an agreement. Tony was about to tell FRIDAY to display the closest base that they could locate when the A.I. had another idea.

“Tony, there has been a 911 call from the address you told me to look out for.”

This got the man on his feet. “When?”

“Just a few seconds ago. The neighbors reported hearing gunshots and loud crashes. The police are on their way, they should arrive in eight to ten minutes.”

“We can get there in two.”

----------------

They got to your apartment in exactly eighty four seconds. Tony, along with Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha rushed past some of your curious neighbors and arrived in front of your door. Your keys were still in the door knob when Natasha pushed the door open. Obviously the first thing they noticed was the situation of your living room. And the unconscious man on the floor.

Clint approached the bleeding man, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive, barely.”

Natasha tossed him a pair of handcuffs and the archer gathered the unknown man’s hands before securing him. She then entered a nearby closet in an unsuccessful attempt of finding the apartment’s owner.

The rest of them looked around the ransacked apartment trying to get an idea of what happened or who this man was. Steve picked up one of the photographs that was shattered on the floor, the one your intruder was looking at earlier. There was a pit forming in his stomach as he processed what he was seeing. You’d taken the photograph at your middle school father-daughter dance. He was always at work, but that day he had taken a day off to attend the event for you, even took you shopping to get a nice pastel pink dress and a tie for him to match. You grinned in that photo, unintentionally showing off your braces; your father had his hand around your frame, a gentle yet charismatic smile adorning his lips.

Sam went further to the apartment, ending up in your room. He took in the decorations -or rather lack thereof. Your walls contrasted those of the living room, aside from one old poster of a band Sam didn’t recognize, there was only a bed in the centre of the room. He stepped out of the room and entered another. There was more personality, more life, in this room. Ironic really, seeing as it was your late father’s. There were pictures of him and you on his bedside table, among other things. His bed was unmade but dusty. He spotted a glimmer beyond the papers strewn across the floor. Curiosity led him to picking it up; it was a dog tag. He pocketed it before appearing back to the rest, shaking his head.

“Hey kid!” Tony hollered. “It’s Tony! With The Avengers?”

Silence.

Suddenly the front door re-opened with a force. The five heroes immediately got to a fighting stance.

“NYPD! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

The team sighed, half in relief and half disappointment. Upon realizing that the Avengers themselves were in front of them, the police officers lowered their weapon with faces full of questions.

“With all due respect,” one of them spoke nervously, “what are you guys doing here?”

“Our jurisdiction.” Tony snarked with sarcasm before going back to looking around the room.

“That man needs medical help.” Natasha stepped up to the officer, pointing at the body on the ground. “We don’t know who he is yet but we assume he’s bad so keep an eye on him.”

Steve rested his shield on his arm before picking up one of the framed pictures that looked the most recent before giving it to a different officer. “Look for this girl, she might be in danger. And injured.” It was one your father had taken of you only a few months before you last saw him, you had grown a little since then but Steve thought it should do.

“There might be no need for that,” Tony called. “One of the security cams across the street spotted a girl running away from this building, must be her.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” And with that they were off, leaving the police to take care of the crime scene and culprit while they search for you with the guidance of FRIDAY.

----------------------

You finally decided you couldn’t run any further; your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, your back was killing you, and you’re pretty sure the man had sprained your arm. You stopped at an empty alley, a good block away from your building. You let your body slide down the wall to the concrete below you in exhaustion. You lifted your shirt up to see a purple bruise starting to form on your upper stomach. You raised your hand to wipe off the blood staining your face but only ended up spreading the red liquid everywhere before you limped, your muscles giving out. You sighed, turning your brain trying to find out how you were going to get out of this one.

Then you felt a presence to your left. Your instincts kicked in, grabbing the gun you had carried and aiming it to the figure.

“Wow, hey. Put that down.” The figure said, three more people emerging behind him. “It’s me.”

God damn the Avengers. You thought, lowering the gun in your hand. You let your head lull back to the wall behind you.

You heard a metal clink from your other side. “You’ll manage, huh?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to return the attitude.

Tag list: @iamthescarlettwitch @sincerely-kizzy @ineedmorefanfics @moonyinthestars

I know this is very much long overdue, i hope you'll still enjoy it regardless xx

[novelconcepts]

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left. 

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 

She looked real. 

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?” 

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 21

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, abuse, PTSD

A/N: enjoy xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky was an observer. It was something that was written in his bones, something he used to think was good when he functioned as a sniper in the 107th, something HYDRA loved in the assassin they had forced him to be, something he had grown to hate after he had gained some sort of control over his life. But now? Now, Bucky was observing something he could look at for the rest of his life, Y/N. 

She had changed into a black cherry patterned dress covered by an oversized white cardigan which every once in a while would slip, exposing her shoulder. He was standing next to her, listen to her echoing voice as she pointed out several little things for his flat yet not listening at all. He was just so enamoured by her. The way her smile pulled at her cheek, how her nose would scrunch up as she picked vases and frames, showing it to him. 

He could almost see gravity acting upon her, the way her hair bounced up and down. Her teeth bitting onto her lip as she studied the details of the bedding fabric. God, Bucky could just look at her and remain like that for ages. He could just follow her into the unknown as long as she held his hand, the touch of her thumb against his flesh hand, the softness her touch held. There was nothing sweeter, purer than her. He kissed her shoulder, nuzzling against the wool fabric of her cardigan.

Y/N smiling, moving her head slightly to kiss his forehead before returning to look at the choice of plates and other cutlery for his kitchen since it turned out he had none and had been living out of paper plates and plastic cutlery. 

      - Do you like the white ones or the blue ones? - she asked, pointing at the two plates on the shelf. 

      - Which ones do you like?

     - C’mon Bucky, I picked the frames so you have to pick the plates. It’s your house. - she crossed her arms playfully. - Pick one. 

     - Listen, back in my day, we handed our plates from generation to generation. In my defense, I was not expecting to ever have to pick out a plate.

    - You cannot use the “I’m old” excuse for everything. Come on, blue or white?

    - Fine. Blue. - he grabbed the cardboard plate holder, putting a dozen plates in before adding the holder to the rest of the stuff on their trolley. - What’s next, princess?

     - Couch, bed, bedding, dresser and you’re lucky you have a built in wardrobe because I love the wardrobe portion of IKEA. 

     - Don’t tell me I’m stealing one of the greatest pleasures of your life, my sweet princess. - he placed his hands on her waist pulling her in towards him, placing a small kiss to her nose. - Have I told you how lovely you look today?

    - At least five times. - she giggled like a little girl, leaning onto his shoulder for a little while before driving him towards the section were most beds were displayed. Bucky watched with a bit of bored wonder, yet he couldn’t help but not to want to be somewhere else, not when she was around looking excited about picking out something as mundane as a bed. He wondered, he wondered how she would look picking out furniture for her actually home, a home ... a home where she would live with him. Their own home, surrounded by a picket white fence with pink rose bushes and as much IKEA furniture as she could possibly want. 

Their own home where she would paddle around barefoot in the mornings to meet him as he took his coffee, or maybe the house with the wooden floors she would walk in maybe someday pregnant. The perfect life, or at least that of what he had envisioned. At least the perfect life he had envisioned when he was younger, not tainted by his own actions. He wanted that life but the thing is, he no longer deserved it and as his sight got lost in the several beds on display. His mind couldn’t help but rush through wondering what picking furniture for his own house would look like, maybe she would be wearing the same dress, a bit tighter around her swollen stomach, his mum’s ring on her finger. Yet those were only delirious dreams of a man who hadn’t dreamt in more than half a century.

     - Are you alright? - she held his hand in hers, thumb caressing the rough skin it found. - You seem a bit dazed. 

    - Yeah ... just distracted by the large mount of beds. 

    - Are you sure you don’t want to sit down? We can stop if you’re not feeling well. 

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at her worry, leaning down to softly kiss her again, unwrapping her hands from the trolley to hold his. He smirked through the kiss, leaning her down on the closest display bed to them, kissing down from her lips to her collarbones making her giggle. 

   - No, I don’t think this is the bed. You should be moaning, not giggling.

   - That’s not how you pick a bed. - she tried to give him the best authoritarian look which failed as he hauled her to another bed. - You’re gonna get us kicked out. 

   - I’m a senior citizen, they can’t kick me out. - he held her by her waist, moving her to another bed before leaning his head in the space between her neck and shoulder, biting her skin softly. - Hm, I think I like this one better. What do you think, princess?

   - I think we should try another one.

   - If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve said so. - he rolled so she was standing on top of him before moving his head up to kiss her. - I think this is the one. 

   - Okay, we will grab one from the end. 

She moved away from him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hot cheeks as the people who had stopped their shopping to look at them went back to their business leaving the two of them to their own. Bucky laughed at her embarrassment, getting up from the bed before kissing her forehead. The two of them continued to pick furniture until they reached the end aisle with all the packed and ready to go furniture. Bucky was the one to pick it, tossing it onto the trolley as if it weighed nothing. He felt comfortable living in this mundane system, looking at the people waiting in the queue while Y/N commented on furniture she would maybe want in a future house. 

If he were crazy enough he would’ve suggested for her to get that house now, to just drop whatever stopped her from doing what she wanted and go for it yet she was probably still sensitive from this morning’s events. They paid for the furniture and loaded it onto the car driving back to his flat. She was excited, pushing some of his boxes to the middle of the floor to start unpacking them before assembling the bed and the other things they’d bought.

Bucky didn’t have much, it was mostly memorabilia, stuff that his mother had left behind and a hand full of clothing. He was a minimalist yet all his things seemed to hold immense value, specially the stack of photographs that had fallen onto her lap. She looked at him, he was too invested into assembling the couch to notice her, so Y/N started going through his photos.

They were mostly from his youth, a few polaroid shots from the 21st century mixed in but those which she was interested in were the ones where he was in uniform. He was a handsome man and that she already knew but there was this sort of mischievous, joueur de vie spark in his eyes as he posed with several women, Steve always somehow in the back. 

    - What are you looking at? - Bucky sat down on the ground next to her, pulling her to his side before taking one of the photos from the ground. - I haven’t seen this in years. 

    - You haven’t seen your own photographs?

    - The museum sent some over, I didn’t really felt like looking at them. No use crying over the past. 

    - What about the new ones? - she held up one of Steve with a beer in hand laughing at whatever Sam was telling him. - Do you fancy yourself a photographer?

    - I like taking photos of mundane things. - he shrugged, looking through the polaroids scattered around the floor. - Normality amuses me. 

    - I think your photographs are beautiful. - she gave him a soft smile, before sliding another photo into one of the frames. The actress grabbed another one from the pile; it was Steve laying in what looked like a hospital bed alongside Sam and Natasha with silly faces.  - What happened in this one?

Bucky’s throat dried up as she held up a photo up to him, curiosity sketched in her beautiful features but not even her softness could take away from how sunken his heart was at sight of the insignificant photo. It wasn’t his, probably had gotten mixed up but he knew why it was there. Steve had only been in the hospital after serum once and he had been the cause of it. There were scratches and bruises, a lip cut. This was Capitan America rendered hurt by him, the same invincible Capitan America. If Steve Rogers couldn’t be safe from him ... then why would she? 

   - Bucky? - her voice was once again echoey as it was whenever he got lost in his mind. She put her hand on the hardwood floor, pushing herself up, letting the photographs on her lap flow to the ground. Her hand cradled his face, thumb caressing his scrub. - Can you breathe in for me? Please?

   - I’m not a baby, Y/N. 

   - I know but you need to breathe in for me, okay? - her eyes were shimmery, thumb lining his limps. He gave in for her, melting under her touch and allowing air to slowly enter and exit his lungs. - You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I love you. 

Other women had told Bucky they loved him. God, he had heard it perhaps too many times but coming from her, coming from her it seemed like love was her own creation and she had slightly opened her heart just for him. In all honesty, he didn’t care if she would ever say it back but now that she had, he just wanted to hear it again. It was everything and nothing at all at the same time yet the mention of those words only made him more scared. He could only picture her in the same situation and it made him out of breathe again, almost as if someone was pushing him into deep dark waters and all he could do was scream helplessly as the water filled his lungs while no one heard a thing. 

She was however very still in her position, caring as she was and those thoughts that she would be eaten alive by her own passions came back to haunt him. Now both her passions seemed to lie in waiting to take a bite of her neck and leave her to bleed. He couldn’t shake that image out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

    - Hey, why don’t we go through the rest of the furniture and take care of the photos later. - she difused the subject before it could explode. - C’mon.

The rest of day of uneventful, mostly just the two of them making his flat look like a home and not a safety investment. By the time the clock hit 9PM, they had assembled all the furniture and added all the rest of their shopping to their due places. After eating Chinese take-out on his new rug while The Crown played on her laptop, they eventually went back to bed. The air was different, she could feel it, she could sense something off and for the first time since the two had fallen asleep together in the same bed she was the one awake. The white linen was draped over her shirtless chest as she looked at the old chandelier over her, her reflection light by the moonlight as she found sleep couldn’t spell her no matter how much she tried. 

Her eyes were fixed on the cracked glass, watching her reflection shatered in different planes. The sleep didn’t seem to come and she remained wide awake until the sun rays broke through the cloudy morning sky, illuminating both her and him. Her hand hadn’t left him, feeling him toss and turn during the night so once the sun rose, he too awoke. 

Almost like a mechanical move, he turned to check on her, finding her eyes looking back at his. Lazily, he kissed her forehead, pulling her to her chest, tucked under his chin before mumbling a good morning to her. Yet, no matter how much warmth he seemed to provide her, she still felt something off. Her suspicions were confirmed once her phone alerted her of a message. 

She grabbed it from the bedside table, eyes rushing through the text before groaning, pushing the covers away from her legs.

   - Where are you going? - Bucky whined, raising his torso from the comfortable bed. He would never admit it, but it was much nicer to sleep in a framed bed than on the ground.

   - It’s my boss, he’s asking for me.

   - What does he want?

   - I would say probably something related to my flat’s incidence. - she bit onto her lip, grabbing her clothing from the door hook. - I’ll take a taxi, you can stay here. 

   - I’m not gonna let you out my sight when someone broke into your flat, Y/N.

   - Yes but you need to finish unboxing your clothing and it’ll be really boring to wait in the car.

   - Y/N.

   - I’ll be fine. - she grabbed her shoes before going up to kiss him goodbye. Bucky didn’t even have the time to argue with her before she was out the door.

Truth was Y/N did not want him going. She knew whatever she was walking into would not sit well with Bucky and she didn’t want him triggered or disrespected by Mr. Hawthrone. She didn’t want him in his winter soldier thinking space and as such she walked straight into the crossfire the moment she entered the taxi.

She pulled at the skin of her nails as she sat on the office of her agency, watching as new talent came in and out. She bite her own lip at the same time, trying to appear tougher than she was when in reality she felt like shattering into a million pieces and as her name was called by his assistance, things seemed to beat faster.

Following the woman inside his office she found him sitting down in his chair, always the calm, stern man. It was almost as if nothing bothered him, he always had such a poker face no one could tell what he was thinking and Y/N in this moment wanted nothing but to be inside his head. He motioned towards the chair before opening his mouth to start speaking.

  - I’m glad to see you’re okay. - he started. - Although I must say I’m quite disappointed you didn’t call our team when it happened.

  - I thought notifying my bodyguard was the most appropriate thing at the moment, sir. - she replied, eyes downcast to her lap. 

  - I was horrified to know what was written in your mirror. - he opened his draw to pull a white envelope, sliding it up to her. - Yet, I do believe there is some blame on you for this. It seems like the public, not to my shock, isn’t very happy with your current relationship.

  - I don’t think the public has anything to do with my relationship. - she opened the envelope to find paparazzi pictures of her and Bucky in less than professional settings. - Have you been following me?

  - I just bought them from the Sun. Clearly, we need to clean up your image to ensure you’re safe. Luckily for us, it’s mostly rumours, no photographs to confirm your affiliations with Mr. Barnes.

  - I don’t think my image is the problem, sir. 

  - I think we need to clear up this whole Barnes mess. I have spoken with several of my male clients and they are thrilled about the prospect of maybe a PR relationship.

  - But I don’t need a PR relationship, I have a relationship.

  - You have a relationship with a man who half the world deems an assassin and traitor to his own country. That is not the image that we want for you and it’s clearly backfiring.

  - I made it clear when I signed this contract that I wasn’t gonna have a PR relationship. It’s just not who I am and ... and Bucky can defend me from whoever comes my way.

  - It is not up to you who decides what PR stuff is done or not. You are an investment, sweetheart and I will not lose money on you just because you refuse to act like a professional actress. I will have Ms. Olson send you a list of potential candidates and you will have your pick on my desk by tomorrow and that is an order.

  - I don’t ...

  - I think our meeting is done. - he twirled his chair, turning his back to her. She wanted to scream at him, shout that he didn’t own her and that he didn’t get to tell her what she should do in her bed or life. Yet, before she could even fight for an option she was escorted out the office by the same assistant before having a door shut on her face.

She remained in the middle of the waiting room, fists clenching onto the white envelope as she wondered what to do. What could she do? With that thought on her mind, she grabbed her phone from her purse.

  - Chuck? I need a favour. 

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, suicidal thoughts.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself trapped.

Note: So I managed to finish this chapter before work really starts to kick my ass. Just letting y’all know, there will be a part 6 but I have an 11 hour day tomorrow and work straight through to wednesday so I’ll probably be exhausted.

That being said, I appreciate y’all reading and your reactions have been the highlight of writing!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You coughed into the blackness. Your awakening was gradual as you waded through the void and slowly broke the surface of consciousness. Your throat was dry and sore and your head swelled with each breath. You reached to touch the tender flesh along your neck, bruised by the rope which had so violently been strung around it. You only recalled the dread of your suffocation before the world turned dark.

As you moved, bright lights flicked on suddenly and you groaned as your eyes watered. You trembled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. The room was small, just big enough for the large bed and the metal chest secured with a heavy padlock. There was a heavy door with a slot and no handle and another smaller door to your left.

You shimmied to the side of the bed and turned your legs over the edge. You slowly turned as the wall behind the bed stood in contrast to the rest of the sterile white room. Every inch around the low frame, from floor to ceiling, was pasted in images and documents. A startling map of your existence.

Pictures of you in the grocery store, at work, on the train or even in your apartment, spanning years back. There were even a few of your dorm room, long forgotten to the haze of your college years. A transcript of your credits and copies of your resume and even pages of the journal you thought only known to you. The one you’d thought you lost in your move from student to adult. And the drawings; just as you remembered, sickening and horrifying.

You stood, unsteadily, and neared the demented collage. There were other pictures; of women who looked like you; crying, screaming, bleeding. You grabbed one and tore it off the wall. You crumpled it up, unable to look at the woman’s dead eyes.

You flinched as the heavy door jolted suddenly and you turned as it opened. You dropped the picture and pressed yourself to the wall as Bucky entered and the door closed behind him. His blue eyes were predatory and intent on you. His right hand twitched as he cleared his throat.

“Sit,” he said softly.

You gaped at him and shook your head. You quaked as you edged over to the corner as if you could hide there.

“Baby girl…” he warned, “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You grazed your neck with your fingertips and scoffed. The sharp breath scratched your throat and made you wince.

“You made me do that,” he said, “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him. His left hand balled into a fist and he shifted on his feet. Your heart jumped and your lip quivered. Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the wall and neared the bed. You sat sideways against the wall with one leg hanging to the floor. You folded your hands and braced for the unraveling of his wrath.

“Good girl,” he preened. “I just want to talk. That’s all I came for.”

“You’re a murderer,” you rasped, “So just kill me already.”

He smiled and chuckled. He took a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He neared the end of the bed and gripped his hips.

“If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” He said. “All you have to do is listen, baby girl. And if you can do that, I will bring you a treat.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you muttered, “You’re disgusting. You’re…” you shook your head as you couldn’t put into words how he made your stomach twist and churn.

He sniffed and took a deep breath.

“Where were you seven years ago? What were you doing?”

“Looks like you already know,” you paused and tried to clear your sore throat. You coughed and pressed your hands to your neck.

“You were just a student, yes?” He shifted on his feet as he spoke, “Innocent, unaware. Running across campus to get to your next class. So clueless you didn’t even notice the man you collided with. Didn’t notice me with that look in my eyes; distant, determined.”

You frowned, confused. You shrugged. You didn’t remember.

“And what did you think when you heard of what happened to the dean?”

Your heart dropped. You remembered that. It was in the headlines for weeks; the mysterious attack on the dean of criminology. It was revealed that he was a former intelligence officer but it could not be linked substantially to the event. He resigned shortly after and as any new cycle, the story washed itself out.

“You--?”

He sighed and his eyes darkened. “What I was… then. What they made me.”

“I don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you and neared the bed until his legs touched the mattress. “I was their weapon; a machine. My job was death but that day, their weapon failed. Their weapon was distracted and for that the weapon was reforged, honed, beaten down until it was once more sharp enough to use.”

You shook your head in confused, Your fingers curled until your nails cut into your palms.

“Even when they wiped my mind, you remained. The girl who smiled at me without thought; who apologized and asked if I was okay… Who gave me directions to the right building… never knowing… because she thought I was good.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t know you…”

He held up a finger and tapped his lips. You went silent and watched him.

“When I was free, when I found Bucky again, I found you.” He breathed. “And you were the same. Flitting around without a care. And you ran into me again and you apologized, as you had before, and not a second thought to the man who watched you run for the train. To the man who held the door for you the next day or returned to you the card you dropped on the sidewalk. Always just a smile.”

You touched your cheeks. You remembered the card, some forgotten coffee rewards counter you never used. It came clearer then. His gloves hand holding the cardstock, his blue eyes. It was just another random interaction in the chaotic city. But it wasn’t.

“No…” you shook your head, “But why--”

“You see, the people who corrupted me, their control has nothing to do with what I am. It is a part of me. The soldier, Bucky… one does not exist without the other. Bucky fell in love with you, Bucky wanted you, but the soldier… he didn’t how to help Bucky. How to get you. So he found the girls and he tried to figure it out.”

“Stop. Please. I can’t--”

“But even the soldier couldn’t hurt you,” he put one knee on the bed. “Bucky won’t let him.”

As he placed his other knee on the mattress, you turned to get off the bed. He caught your ankle before you could and pulled you down the bed. He climbed over you and straddled you beneath him. You struck out at him and he stopped your hands, gripping your wrists tightly.

“I told you, I won’t hurt you.” He said softly.

“You are hurting me,” you tried to pull away from him and wiggled beneath him.

“I am trying to help you,” he pushed your hands beside your head, pinning them to the bed. “I only want to love you.” He bent over you and his hot breath tickled your lips. “To feel you.”

“Please, you can’t-- I never-- I’m scared, Bucky. Please don’t hurt me.” You begged. “Please…”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He glared at you and pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your arms and his hands gripped your head instead.

“Listen. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled. “But I will if you make me.”

You stared at him, paralysed beneath him. He squeezed your head until it pulsed then pushed himself up suddenly. He climbed off of you, jostling the bed, and scanned the wall of photos. He lowered his chin and nodded.

“Take your clothes off.” He said.

You stayed as you were, stunned and scared. He looked at you slowly and his lips curled.

“Do it or I will.” He warned.

You sat up. You were numb as you skirted to the edge of the bed and pulled your tee over your head. He snatched it from you and you stood to unbutton your jeans. You rolled them down and he took them in turn. You struggled to unhook your bra as you trembled and he spun you sharply. He snapped the clasp and the fabric fell away from your chest. He gathered it up and tore your panties just as easily. He even bent to take your socks as they sat balled on the floor.

You tried to cover yourself as you turned back to him. He marched to the door and stopped. He looked back at you and gritted his teeth.

“Good girl,” he smirked and then turned around and looked above the door. 

A small lens sat above the frame and the door unlocked. He opened it with his foot and sent you one last glance before he pulled it shut. You slumped onto the bed and folded your legs against your chest. There was only the sheet stretched across the mattress and a single pillow. You shivered and hung your head.

You felt the eyes of all the dead women behind you. Felt the weight of their souls. And yet you were horribly alone.

👁️

Shortly after he left you, a tray was slid through the slot in the door. You ignored it at first but your stomach began to ache as the hours dripped by. You took the tray and rested it on the foot of the bed as you sat carefully. You took a long gulp from the bottle of water and the muscles of your neck reminded you of your assault.

The sandwich was cut neatly in half; ham and cheese with mustard. You chewed it without tasting and emptied the cup of applesauce. That was all you could manage and you set the tray in the corner.

The other door, the smaller one, opened up to a small booth. A toilet and sink only. You refused to be thankful for anything but were relieved to have at least that.

You hugged the pillow for much of the time. Your only shield against the cold and your nudity. You dozed off for a little, a shallow, distraught slumber.

You were awoken by the door. You sat up dizzily and stared at the figure as it cleared in your vision. The lights were dimmer as Bucky moved around. He went to the metal chest and opened the lock. You pulled the pillow to you as he closed the lid and plopped a roll atop it.

He turned to you and you cowered as he knelt on the bed. Wordlessly, he pulled on your arm until it bent painfully away from the pillow. You fought with him as he dragged it to the top corner.

“What are you doing?” You whined. “Please, don’t--”

You choked on your voice as he pulled up a leather cuff over the mattress. He wrapped it around your wrist despite your struggles and buckles it.

“Bucky, Bucky, please--”

He hushed you and grabbed your other arm. You kicked you as he forced you onto your back and shook the whole bed as he secured your other wrist. You hit his shoulder with your heel before he grabbed your left ankle and tied in down before he did the same to the right. You were stuck, stretched across the bed, writhing and whimpering as he backed away.

“What--”

“Baby girl,” he tapped his fingers atop the metal chest. “I don’t want to gag you… You have such a pretty mouth.”

You grunted and tugged on your binds. It was pointless. Even if you got loose, there was no way out of this room, no escape from this monster. Your eyes drifted to the wall above you and you closed them against the sight of the tortured women. Would he do the same to you?

You heard a clink and your eyes snapped open. You looked over at the knives that lined the fabric roll and you sobbed. You let out a pathetic squeal that slowly built to a scream.

“Please, please, please!” You shouted. “Don’t do this!”

“Baby girl,” he hummed as he dragged his fingers over the blades. “I told you, you’re safe with me.”

He turned and his eyes roved over your body. He let out a thick breath and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and let it heap on the floor. His gaze clung to you as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down. He forced his boots off as he stepped out of his jeans and his socks went with them. He undressed methodically, never looking away from you.

You grunted as you tried desperately to free yourself. This animal, this monster, was coming for you.

He went to the chest and slid a knife from the row. You bounced in frustration on the bed and shook your head. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen. His weight caused the bed to dip as he lowered himself between your legs. He looked up at you as he pressed the cold blade to your thigh. You squeaked and bit down.

“You see, if one doesn’t know what they’re doing then it’s difficult to know what cuts will kill and which won’t,” he slithered. “But if they do, they know how much pressure, what angle,” he pushed the point down and you felt it pierce your skin, “where to cut… just for a taste. That’s all.”

He sliced along your thigh, a shallow but painful cut. You cried out and he did the same to your other leg. Your feet arched as your muscles tensed and you pulled against the cuffs.

The warmth of your blood was met by the heat of his mouth. You gasped as lapped at the flow and smeared it over your skin as he edged closer to your cunt. You grasped at air as your fingers curled and uncurled. You let out pathetic noises as he pressed his thumb to the slice along your other thigh.

He purred as he brushed his tongue along your pussy. He pushed carefully between your folds and you gulped. The tingle it sent through you had your heart hammering. He spread his hand over your thigh and his other gripped your hip as his tongue teased you. 

He sucked on your clit as his hand slipped further up. You pushed your head down into the mattress as you felt a storm of hot and cold fill your core. He needed to stop. He had to stop. You couldn’t feel like this. It was wrong. He trapped you, he cut you, and now he was toying with you.

He traced two fingers along the crease of your thighs and pushed against your entrance. You moaned and he dipped them inside slowly. He stretched you around his vibranium digits until his knuckles were pressed to your cunt. He curled his fingers and moved them in time with his tongue.

You bared your teeth as you tried to resist the instinctual response of your body. The way your core pulsed and buzzed without your consent. You whined as he brought you closer and closer to your peak. Between your mewls, one word was clear; ‘no, no, no.” 

You went rigid as the waves rolled over you and your climax overwhelmed your fear. He urged you through it, his fingers working into you quickly as your sighs turned to sobs. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and wincing against his touch.

He raised his head and drew his fingers from inside you. You looked down at him, his beard and nose stained red. Your stomach flipped and your fear spiked once more. He took the knife from beside your leg and backed off the bed. His cock bobbed with each step as he went to the chest and unsheathed another blade.

He returned to you. This time he moved to straddle you as he turned the knife in his hand. He admired the sheen of the metal and poked your lips with the tip. He trailed over your chin and traced the line of your cheek. His blue eyes sparkled as he teased you.

“You’re beautiful…” he breathed, “I could never ruin that face.”

He brought the blade to your neck and lingered on the still tender flesh. He continued on to your chest and circled your nipples. His hand cupped one tit as the knife played with the other. He moved his hips and grinded against you.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He hovered the knife below your clavicle and turned the tip to your skin. He split the flesh slowly along the centre of your chest, a red line rising between your breast. Again, it was shallow, enough to bleed, enough to make you sick.

He set the knife down on the mattress and his fingers crawled along the incision. Your torn skin stung at his touch and he bent over you. He traced the line with his tongue and lifted his head. He pressed his hot lips to yours and forced his tongue inside. You tasted the metallic taint of your own blood and groaned.

His chest rubbed against your and you felt the warmth as it spread across his skin. His hand felt around as he lifted his pelvis and moved his knee between your legs. He slickened his fingers with your blood and once more began to play with your cunt. You squirmed and tried to turn your head away from him. He bit down on your lip and shoved his fingers inside of you.

“Baby girl,” He drew away, “You’re ready for me.”

“No--” He pulled his fingers out of you and his hand came up to wrap around your neck and he shushed you once more.

His eyes bore into yours as he angled his hips. He shifted as his tip poked along your cunt. He slowly pressed against you until he slipped inside. You grunted and bit down on your lip. You shook your head as his hand grew tighter. He eased into you an inch at a time and your eyes rolled back as he reached his limit.

He sighed as he moved his thighs flush to yours. His heavy breaths filled your ears as he began to rock. He thrust into you carefully, relishing in each long stroke. He hummed as he kept a steady rhythm. You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the burgeoning swell in your core.

He moved fast and pushed himself up, his hand still on your neck, nearly crushing your windpipe. His other hand stretched across the gash on your chest and he slammed into you harder and harder. The clap of his flesh echoed through the room as the blood from your thighs seeped onto his.

The bed quaked beneath your bodies as he pounded into you, his voice rising with each tilt of his hips. Your own breathy moans floated in the air and knotted in your chest.

“Baby girl,” he growled, “Fuck, you feel so good… you taste so good.”

He lifted his hand from your chest and you opened your eyes. He licked your blood from his hand, his left still firmly at your throat.

“You’re gonna look so pretty,” he touched the cut again and played with your blood. His chest was marked with red and it trickled down his muscled stomach as he hammered into you. “This is gonna be a pretty little mark, isn’t it?”

You gnashed your teeth and turned your head. You stared at the blank wall as your thighs tensed against his. You gasped as your orgasm rose violently and your body spasmed.

Bucky let go of your neck and grabbed the knife. Your eyes followed the blade and he pressed it along his chest and cut into his left peck. He stilled as the blood leaked from his flesh and he put the knife aside once more. He coated his fingers in his blood and wiped them across your lips. He forced his way inside your mouth and began to fuck you again.

He lowered himself over you. He slipped his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your chin. He kissed you deeply, tasting the mix of your blood. He pulled away as he began to pant and rutted into you without relent. He snarled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You feel that, baby girl,” he rasped, “Hmm, you’re going to make me cum. You want it inside of you?”

“Please--” you whispered.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby girl. Over and over--” He jerked his hips with each word, “And over-- and over--”

He hissed and thrust into as deep as he could. He spasmed and rolled his hips as his cum spilled into you. He slowed and let his weight down onto you. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest and your own beat loudly in your ears.

“Over and over… baby girl,” he murmured and flinched. He slid his arm up under you and slowly moved his hips. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

👁️

You were in a daze when Bucky finally untied you. He left you limp across the bed as he packed up the knives and locked them away. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed with a wet cloth and began to wipe away the blood from your cuts. You winced but only closed your eyes and waited for it to be over.

Your entire body hurt. You lost count of how many times he’d fucked you. He cut you again on your thighs and under your breasts. You were caked in your own blood and sweat. He washed you gently and you let him. You hoped he would go when he finished.

He stood and you heard the heavy lid of the chest again. He returned to you and wiped each cut; the alcohol tickled your nostrils and burned your skin. The bleeding had mostly stopped but he bandaged each carefully. The crumple of wrappers and the tinny clasp of metal. He rose again and the padlock was snapped shut.

“You have to keep yourself clean, baby girl,” he said. “I’ve left some bandages and wipes out for you. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

You ignored him and rolled onto your side painfully. You shivered and hugged yourself. You’d wait for him to leave before you cried. You listened to him dress. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Your blood was still smeared over his face.

“Good night, baby girl.” He looked at you for a moment. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

You didn’t answer and just stared at the wall.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he cooed as his footsteps neared the door, “It’ll take some time… but we both felt how much you liked it.”

The door opened and clunked behind him. Your eyes pricked and you closed them as the tears began to fall. You grabbed the pillow and hugged it as your entire body was wracked with sobs.

You wished he had cut you deeper. You wished he had just killed you. There was no other way out.

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 8)

Chapter summary: When Aaron gets stuck at work late and Jess has to go help out her dad, Aaron has nobody else to turn to but you to watch Jack. The only problem? Up until now, Aaron has been keeping his home life completely separate from you, and you have no clue how this will effect your already precarious relationship with Aaron.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This was not part of the original plan at all for this story, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.

masterlist || read on ao3

In between What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine Love is so confusing, there's no peace of mind If I fear I'm losing you it's just no good You teasing like you do - Blondie, “Heart of Glass”

~~~~~~~ 

You were on your couch doing homework when you got the call from Aaron, and you frowned in confusion when you saw his name flash across your cell phone screen. Aaron never called you while he was working, and you especially didn’t expect a call from him today. He was doing a custodial interview with an inmate sentenced to death somewhere in Virginia, and you figured prison didn’t have the greatest cell service.

 “Hey there, jailbird,” you greeted. “Are you inviting me to the dance?”

“Very cute, Elvis,” Aaron joked, but it was half hearted. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I need to ask you for a favor, and I want you to know that I wouldn’t be asking you if I had any other options.”

“Mhm, I love being the last choice,” you mused sarcastically. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Aaron.”

  Aaron elected to ignore your last comment. “The prison just went on lockdown, so I’m going to be stuck here for at least a few more hours,” he explained, and there was an unnatural nervousness to his voice. “And Jessica has to go deal with an emergency with her father.”

You frowned to yourself, unsure of where Aaron was going with his explanation, and even more unsure of who this Jessica person was. A pang of jealousy shot through you, but you quickly bottled that feeling. 

 Aaron took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Would you be willing to watch Jack for a few hours? I know it’s not ideal, but it would just be for a little while until either I get out of here or somebody else from the BAU gets off of work. I would even be willing to compensate you for your time.”

Oh.

OH.

Silence crackled through the phone as you took in his request, and you could practically feel Aaron’s nervousness. It shouldn’t have been as big of a deal as it was. It had been two months since you’ve been with Aaron, you slept over at his house enough, and you worked in the same building as him. It was pretty inevitable that of course you were going to meet Jack at some point, but you always figured it would be with Aaron there to mediate. You had pictured that it would probably be accidental, maybe Jack would wake up early and would catch you sneaking out of Aaron’s house. Or you would be invited to one of Rossi’s famous dinners and the kids would be there and then there would be no questions asked. You definitely didn’t expect to babysit.

“Yeah, of course, I can watch him,” you said finally, and you heard Aaron let out a sigh of relief. “And you don’t have to pay me… or worry about finding a replacement. He can hang out with me for as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Aaron told you, still sounding completely drained. “I will send your address to Jessica, and she will drop Jack off at your place in about half an hour. I really owe you, Y/N. I have to go talk to the warden now, but please call me if you need anything, okay? Bye.” Before you could even answer, Aaron hung up.

You took a deep breath as dread settled in the pit of your stomach. How hard would babysitting be, really? You’ve babysat before - Aly had a little brother who basically became your little brother. However, a weird part of you was nervous that Jack wouldn’t like you, which was ridiculous. It didn’t matter whether or not Jack liked you.

Right?

Deciding that you couldn’t just sit there and panic, you chose to use the time to tidy up your apartment, just to make it extra presentable. The organized mess that was your homework space was quickly arranged so that all of your notebooks and papers were in a neat pile. You took down the half empty tequila bottle from forever ago that was sitting on the top of your fridge and shoved it into a cabinet somewhere. The throw blanket that you had been wrapped up in was refolded and placed on the arm of your couch. You wanted to at least give the illusion that you were prepared to babysit Aaron’s son, and not completely freaking out inside.

Right on schedule, knocking came from your door, and you rushed to open it. You were greeted by a blonde woman, probably a few years younger than Aaron, who you assumed to be Jessica. Next to her was the elusive Jack, with his blonde hair and missing front tooth. You had seen a few photos of Jack in passing, hanging up around Aaron’s house and whatnot, but you never got a good look at the photos.

“Y/N?” Jessica asked cautiously, and you nodded slowly. “Hi, I’m Jessica, Jack’s aunt.”

Jack’s aunt. A million emotions hit you at once. Oh god, she was Haley’s sister. Your stomach started to feel queasy, and it took you a second to realize that it was guilt, although you weren’t quite sure what you felt guilty about. 

Logically, you knew Aaron had a life outside of you. Hell, you had slowly become part of that outside life now that you were friends with his coworkers, but you really tried to avoid thinking about Aaron’s home life. When he wasn’t with you, it was out of sight, out of mind. He was his own individual entity.

Now you were face-to-face with just how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of Aaron’s life. The fact was that you were probably no more than a side storyline in his life, a character created just for Aaron’s own development. He had a life and a family that you barely knew about. There was evidence of his home life everywhere - the bins of toys at his house, drawings on his fridge, family photos in matching frames in the hallway, even a small jewelry box on his dresser that looked like it had been collecting dust for a few years - but you had gotten good at averting your eyes.

“Hi, yes, that’s me,” you replied, shaking Jessica’s hand. Then you bent down so you were closer to Jack’s height. “Hey dude, I’m Y/N,” you introduced, giving him a small wave.

Jessica took the backpack she was carrying and helped Jack slip it onto his shoulders. “Thank you again for doing this on such short notice. Aaron should have sent over my phone number if you need anything, but Jack’s a good kid. He just has some homework that he needs to get done,” she explained.

“It’s no problem,” you told her, giving her your best reassuring smile. “He’s in good hands here.”

Jessica smiled gratefully at you before kneeling down to say goodbye to Jack. You stood in the doorway awkwardly as you watched the interaction curiously. It was as normal as it could get, Jessica telling Jack to behave and that she loves him, but it also fascinated you, like you were watching a movie and all of the characters had popped out of the screen.

Jack gave his aunt a hug before she left, and the two of you stepped into your apartment. That same nervousness came back in full force. What kind of games did he like to play? You didn’t have any toys for him. What if you couldn’t help him with his homework? Do kids his age learn fractions yet, because you did not remember fractions. What if-

“Woah!” came Jack’s voice, breaking you out of your spiraling. “Can I please sit on the bean bag chair?”

Well, Jack certainly wasn’t nervous, which offered you more relief than you thought it would. “Yeah, of course, you can. It’s my favorite place to do my homework.” 

Jack flopped onto the bean bag chair, his tiny frame almost completely consumed by it. You could see the confusion growing on Jack’s face. “You have to do homework?” Jack asked.

“Yup,” you told him. “And I know you do, too, so we can do homework together.”

Jack jutted out his bottom lip in a pout. “Will I have to still do homework when I’m old?”

At that, you let out a genuine laugh, even if you were a little shocked. The kid had personality, you had to admit. “I’m not that old,” you halfheartedly protested, “And maybe. It depends on what you want to be when you grow up.”

“I want to be a superhero,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “Like Spiderman.”

You nodded, the movement playfully exaggerated. “Oh, well Spiderman is really smart. I’m sure he does a lot of homework, so you better get to work. Let me know if you need any help, okay?” You chuckled again at Jack’s increased pout, obviously disappointed in the fact that even superheroes had to focus on school. 

Jack reached into his backpack and pulled out a pencil and a brightly colored folder with papers sticking out of it every which way. He started on his worksheets, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, and it hit you just how much he looked like Aaron. The blonde hair threw you off, but you had seen that exact look on Aaron’s face many times, eyebrows together and lips pursed ever so slightly. Like father, like son. You had to resist the urge to audibly coo at the sight. You were only human, after all.

You tore your eyes away from the boy and glanced over at your laptop, which was sitting open on your coffee table, the cursor blinking back at you teasingly, reminding you that you also had to get to work. You had essays to write and practice contracts to draft up. The two of you did your work in comfortable silence for a while, Jack occasionally asking you to help him read the instructions of his worksheet.

“Done!” Jack exclaimed proudly after a while, holding his packet of papers high in the air.

Just in time, too, because if you had to do any more criminal tax litigation work, you were going to pull out your hair from boredom. There was only so much corporate fraud you could read about in one sitting.

“With all of your homework?” you clarified, and he nodded so fast that he looked like a full-on bobblehead. “Good job, dude!”

“Did you finish your homework so that we can play?” he asked you.

“Yup, I’m all done,” you lied. Your paper wasn’t due for another week, anyway. “So what do you want to play?”

Jack tapped his finger on his chin as he thought about it. You were aware that you didn’t have much in the way of kid’s toys, but you had stuff to color or paint or play board games, and you were confident enough in your imagination to come up with a game if it came down to that. Jack looked around and suddenly his eyes got wide and he pointed to your Switch.

“Do you have Mario Kart?” he asked hopefully. “Can we play that?”

“That sounds like fun, let’s do that,” you told him, making your way to set up the console. “I’ll even let you be player one.”

  Jack was practically bouncing up and down in his seat now. “I’m really good at this game. I can even beat my uncle Dave!”

You laughed as the two of you picked your characters. Jack chose Yoshi, a solid choice, and you went with Toad. “You can beat your Uncle Dave? Wow, that’s impressive. I have to warn you, though, I’m also very good at this game. Do you think you can beat me?” you teased.

“Definitely,” Jack challenged, and the game began.

The two of you played for a little while, and Jack’s mind was blown when you told him about the shortcuts on each track. After about three cups and you telling him where every shortcut you knew was, the 7-year-old was starting to get antsy just sitting, so you decided to switch gears.

You brought out some leftover paints and canvases you had from a paint night with your friends, and you and Jack laid on the floor and did some painting, although you were not prepared for how messy it would get. Somehow, Jack ended up with his fingertips covered in blue paint, and you had a streak of green on your cheek from where you mindlessly brushed hair from out of your face. As you placed the artwork to the side to dry, Jack had already decided on the next game - the floor is lava.

Before you even realized it, three hours had passed and it was time to make dinner. Jack chose pizza, which you luckily already had in your freezer. The game was still going, but you and Jack agreed that the kitchen was the only safe place without lava, considering there were too many dangerous things in that vicinity.

Babysitting Jack was easier than you expected, and much more fun. Even in his more playful moments, Aaron was always a little bit guarded and on edge, so you had a hard time imagining what his child would be like. A weird part of you almost imagined a mini adult in a child-sized suit and a briefcase full of fruit snacks and crackers, as ridiculous as it sounded. But Jack was just like any other 7-year-old - goofy, a little loud, and excited about the world.

You wondered if Aaron was like that as a kid, or if that part of Jack’s personality came from his mom. Maybe Jack was a mini version of his mom. Now that you had gotten the tiniest taste of Aaron’s home life, you found yourself craving to know more, to see Aaron in dad-mode.

Selfishly, you also wanted Aaron to watch you interact with Jack, just to see his reaction. It was a gamble and you realized it. Best case scenario, Aaron would be able to breathe a little bit easier. There wouldn’t be that half second of awkward silence between the two of you every time he mentioned Jack’s name. That stupid guilt you felt so often would dissipate because, hey, you met Jack and now that was out of the way.

On the other hand, everything could come crashing down. Aaron could walk in, see you with Jack, and immediately regret his decision and regret you. It would solidify in both of your minds that you were no more than somebody he could call and fuck when he felt himself on the verge of breaking down. Any self-imposed importance you had placed on yourself in Aaron’s life, no matter how small it was (and it was pretty small), would be a lie. He had a shorter temper now than before, and maybe this would be the exact thing that would set him off.

You didn’t want that, of course, but you really did want to know what would happen, to see where you stood with him. Call it morbid curiosity.

You were pulling the pizza out of the oven when you heard the knock on the door. “Coming!” you called.

“Don’t touch the lava!” Jack reminded you from his spot on the coffee table, just as you were about to leave the kitchen. Your method of movement to and from the kitchen was the rolling chair from your desk and a broom so that you could push yourself where you needed to go, which you had to justify to Jack as being a lava boat.

You “rowed” yourself over the door and looked in the peephole. Aaron was on the other side, nervously rubbing his thumb over the rest of his fingers. It took some work, but you were able to open the door without falling off the chair.

“Hey, I know you,” you greeted Aaron, but your smile fell when you took in his appearance. His whole body was tensed up, like a rubberband about to snap. He didn’t have his tie or blazer on, and the cuffs of his shirt were undone. 

“Dad!” Jack shouted, waving excitedly.

“Hi, buddy.” Aaron smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was scanning the room, studying the scene in front of him. Aaron’s expression slowly shifted to confusion as Jack bounded across your furniture to get closer to his dad. “Jack, what are you doing on the table?” Aaron’s eyes shifted to where you were, noticing for the first time that you were kneeling on a rolling chair, holding onto the broom like a trident. “And why do you two have paint on you?”

“The floor is lava,” you explained nonchalantly.

“And you’re going to get burned!” Jack pointed out.

You chuckled and swiveled your chair so that you could get a better look at Jack. “How about we give your dad a minute to find a spot, okay dude?” You turned back to Aaron, lowering your voice. “The kitchen is a safe zone, if you don’t want to have to crawl around on furniture.”

Aaron frowned, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain. “No, I should take Jack home anyways,” he finally said. “You’ve helped enough today and I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” you insisted. “Besides, we just made a pizza that I’m not going to be able to eat by myself. Come in, have dinner. You look like you need it.”

He really did. You were certain that he hadn’t eaten anything the entire time he was at the jail. He looked exhausted, too, and it was taking every bit of his energy to keep his usual stoic and stony composure.

Aaron wanted to argue, but instead, let out a resigned sigh. “Thank you. You, uh, said that the kitchen was a safe zone?”

“Mhm, and you might want to hurry because Jack is in it to win. Already tried to sabotage my chair boat.”

While Aaron’s face remained emotionless, his gaze softened as he stepped into your apartment. “Jack, did you have fun with Y/N?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

Jack hopped from the coffee table to the couch and onto a trail of pillows he had made. “Yeah! She taught me how to cheat in Mario Kart!” 

You rolled your way back to the kitchen, chuckling sheepishly. “Shortcuts aren’t cheating, it’s playing smart,” you defended. 

Jack just giggled and continued to animatedly tell Aaron about his day at school as you each started to dig into dinner. Well, Jack and you dug into the pizza, while Aaron took all off two bites and pushed his plate to the side. You had originally thought that it was the interview that caused Aaron’s tenseness, but you realized with a start that Aaron was completely focused on you. He was watching you curiously, like you had subtly changed your appearance and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different.

He was just intrigued by your interaction with Jack as you had been with Jack and Jessica’s interactions. You had thought that he was going to make a snap judgment and decide if he was ever going to want to see you again the second he saw you with Jack, but he was taking his time. He was profiling you.

“Hey Jack,” you interjected once he finished eating. “Your dad and I are going to do dishes, but I need you to do me a big favor. I can’t win Bowser’s Castle no matter how hard I try. Do you think you could do that race for me while we clean up?”

Aaron looked at you in confusion, but you kept your eyes on Jack, who was all too happy to have an excuse to get out of cleaning and go back to playing video games. He practically bounced back into the living room, leaving you and Aaron alone.

“Do you want something to drink?” you offered. Aaron was watching your every movement, studying you carefully. “I have tea, coffee… Irish coffee, if it’s that kind of night.” You added the last part as an afterthought, only partially joking.

The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched upwards so subtly that if you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have even noticed. “No thank you,” he answered formally.

You mindlessly traced circles on the tabletop with your finger, keeping your eyes downcast. You knew you couldn’t just outright ask what was on his mind, he’d never answer truthfully. “Do I want to know what that creep did to be put on death row?” you asked, keeping your voice as indifferent as possible..

Aaron shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell you even if you did,” he admitted and the two of you fell into silence again. It was the answer you had pretty much come to expect from him.

Despite the fact that, as a lawyer, you’d have to hear about all these awful things and see the evidence, Aaron tried to shield you from his work. He didn’t talk about cases, didn’t glamorize the work he did the way some younger agents would. In all the time you’ve known him, you could count the number of criminals you knew he took down on your fingers, and some of those were only because you learned about them in class. 

That was fine. You didn’t want Aaron to have to bring that to your bed, not when you were supposed to be his distraction from all that mess. And what a fun distraction you were.

Aaron looked at his watch, effectively ending the conversation. “We should go, it’s getting late. Thank you for watching Jack. And for dinner.”

You paused, debating your next move. “It’s no problem,” you said sincerely. “And if you need anything else from me… I’ll be awake for a while.” You let your offer hang in the air for a few moments, watching as Aaron seemed to be weighing options in his head, you just didn’t know what those options were.

You were just about to rescind your offer when he opened his mouth to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want any compensation?”

You waved off his offer. “I’m positive.”

Aaron shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Then let me buy you dinner sometime this week. It’s the least I can do.”

You paused, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible. Aaron had never made an offer like this before, never took steps towards anything that could push this into something even remotely considered a relationship. It was easy to explain the constant sex. You could even justify the lingering morning-afters or the nights spent hunched over your textbooks while Aaron wordlessly refilled your coffee cup without you having to even ask by claiming that it all happened organically. It’s not like the two of you planned to stay up and debate the lost history of the term “beyond a reasonable doubt”. It just sort of happened, and who were you to turn down free coffee?

Anything more would complicate the carefully curated system, and neither of you had the time or energy for complicated.

Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to walk away and leave while you were ahead, you couldn’t help the soft “Yeah, I’d really like that,” that slipped past your lips.

You could have sworn Aaron smiled at your answer, but he didn’t say anything more.

The two of you walked back to your living room in silence. “Alright buddy,” Aaron called, ruffling Jack’s hair. “It’s time for us to head home. Say thank you to Y/N.”

Jack pouted as he exited the game. “Can Y/N watch me again soon? Please? It was fun!”

“We’ll have to see, she might be busy,” Aaron mused, looking at you so that he could gauge your reaction. It was enough of an answer to not crush Jack’s hopes, but vague enough that it gave you room to deny the offer. He was letting you choose how much you wanted to be around Jack, if you wanted to be around him at all.

You grinned down at Jack and held out your hand for a high five, which he took as an invitation to try and slap your hand as hard as he could. How could you say no to him? “Of course I can watch you again. I’ll even have Legos next time.”

For the first time that night, Aaron gave you a real smile, one that you could actually see. It was small, but it was genuine. “Thank you again. Goodnight, Y/N,” he told you and Jack echoed the sentiment, waving at you as they walked out the door. 

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: Hello guys! For those who want to get tagged, please just message me in my ask. Without further ado, here is Part 5. Hope you’re all ready :D 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

“Come on, pick up pick up,” Y/N said into the phone as she called Bucky. She looked at Lizzie who whimpered in her sleep, her fevered skin flushed. Immediately after her argument with him, she stormed to their room and locked the door. She didn’t care where he slept anymore. Whether he stayed on the couch, or went back to his mistress, that was all up to him. She wasn’t going to tolerate this, she couldn’t even if she wanted to. The fact that he couldn’t even face her, couldn’t even look her in the eye and tell her the truth was the tipping point. She married a coward. She thought they could fix this, but how could it be fixed when no one wanted to face the truth? She’s had enough. Her love wasn’t enough to fix this marriage and she would choose herself and her daughter before he drowned them both. She had finally decided, come tomorrow morning, she’d take Lizzie with her and figure out how they would go from there. She promised herself tomorrow she would be strong but tonight, tonight’s my time to grieve.

She couldn’t help her nagging suspicion to check downstairs to see if he had actually stayed. It wouldn’t have mattered either way but she wanted to know. Her padded footsteps across the dark, empty living room floor solidified her suspicion.

She married a coward.

She picked up their wedding photo on the table by the couch, hardly recognizing the two people madly in love staring back at her. Since when had they become strangers? She didn’t even know how long she’d been standing there, staring at the picture frame in her hands. All her dreams of a happy family with him crushed and all for what? She hoped it was worth it for him. She took a step back, leaving the frame facing down, not having the courage to look at it any longer and headed to the kitchen. How else would she grieve anyway without the help of her favorite bottle of wine?

At some point way past midnight, after consuming more than half the bottle while she tortured herself scrolling through their old pictures on her phone, she knew she had to call it a night. Everything looked better in the morning, she reminded herself as she dragged her feet up the stairs to check on Lizzie. She hoped to God it was true, how else would she survive?

The sight of Lizzie stopped her in her tracks. What the hell happened? Her skin was flushed as she shivered in her sleep, curling her body into a ball with her tiny hands clutched at the blanket. Y/N ran the few steps to her and immediately dropped the back of her hand on her forehead, feeling herself sober up as quickly as Lizzie’s heated skin shocked her. This was bad. This was really bad.  She had a full blown fever in a span of a few hours. Was that even possible? She seemed fine, she said she was only tired, How could they have missed this? Her panicked mind moved before she even registered what she was doing, “Come on, pick up, pick up,” she begged into the phone before his voice sent her straight to voicemail. Damn it! She paced the room, calling Bucky again.

“Mommy? I don’t feel so good,” Lizzie croaked from her bed. Y/N rushed back to her, immediately tucking her phone back in her pocket as Lizzie vomited right where she was.

“Sorry,” she rasped, laying her head back on her pillow.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Mommy’s gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Y/N tried not to let her alarm show, her hands shaking when she changed her out of her soiled clothes.

“Baby, mommy’s gonna be right back, she’ll just get you medicine okay?”

When Lizzie just nodded, she quickly ran to their medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer and Children’s Tylenol. She added some washcloths too and a basin full of water, hoping she was doing the right thing. When the normally fussy Lizzie didn’t even complain about the taste of the medicine, she knew just how bad she felt. Worry and panic gnawed at her as she tried to remember how her mother used to treat her when she was sick. Wiping the tepid washcloth over Lizzie’s skin, she tried to think of her options. She should call Nat despite the late hour. Bruce should know what to do even though he always says he wasn’t that kind of doctor. Those PhDs had to count for something right? After placing the cloth on Lizzie’s forehead, she measured her temperature. Please don’t let it be too high, please don’t let it be too high. 102 °F. Shit.

She paced the room again and wrung her free hand as she waited for her best friend to answer her call but to no avail, she got redirected to voicemail. Shit, shit, shit. This time she called Bruce, not caring anymore that she’d be waking them up. When no one answered, Lizzie whimpered again.

“Mommy, I’m dizzy,”

Y/N took that as a bad sign and put her soothing hand on her child’s forehead. “I know, sweetheart. Does anything else hurt?”

She just shook her head and raised her blanket higher.

“Alright, baby. Rest first okay? Mommy will take care of you, I promise,”

She picked her phone up again, giving a quick text to Bucky to call her as soon as he could before calling Steve, somehow knowing he’d know what to do. She needed his calming authoritative nature while her mind had gone haywire. He has always been the one in their group to call for emergencies, it just came with his hero complex.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Steve!” He heard her frantic reply on the line, making him sit up on his bed. “I can’t contact Bucky, he isn’t home and Lizzie, she’s sick.  She has a fever, she’s thrown up already and I--”

“Hold on, hold on, Y/N, calm down. Have you given her anything?”  

“I just gave her Tylenol but she’s still burning up and I think she’s nauseous, I don’t know what to do. Nat hasn’t picked up so I couldn’t ask Bruce what else I could give her, I should bring her to the hospital right? What am I saying? I’m bringing her now,” Steve could hear her panicked footsteps while she gathered everything she needed.

“Y/N wait, where the hell is Bucky? Should I try looking for him now?” He asked, already putting his shoes on. Y/N barely heard him, checking her driver’s license in her purse and grabbing her car keys before remembering...

“Shit!”

“What?” Steve asked, his heart in his throat. What now?

“Steve, I’ve been drinking! I need to call you back, I have to book an Uber,”

“No. Stay where you are. I’ll come get you,” his calm voice ordered, belying the anger he felt inside. If Bucky wasn’t already dead, he’d be sure to kill the jerk himself.  

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky woke up with a splitting headache as he stretched his sore muscles from the odd angle he fell asleep in. His bent legs burning from squeezing himself into the small couch of his office. He sat up, groaning, while he massaged the tense muscles of his neck. He had been so mad after receiving that text from Celeste. It had been almost a week since he ended it with her, the day that Lizzie with her big and generous heart, proudly smiled at him when she thought she had solved his problem by making her uncle Steve go for her career day instead of him, her actual father. He still remembered it like a blow to the stomach, knocking the air right out of him. His daughter, so giving and thoughtful and he’d inadvertently pushed her away, pushed them away. It still sent chills to his spine to think of just how close he is of losing them. So instead of facing his wife last night, instead of admitting his mistake, he let his demons get the best of him and ran. Ran to drink himself into oblivion but her face was all he could see. The disappointment she felt for him etched in her features. She had lost hope and he knew it. What was he going to do? Drinking definitely wasn’t it. The more sensible part of his brain told him. But his whole life, that’s all he’s ever known. Rumlow’s laughing voice echoing in his head, “You’ll always get your answers at the end of a bottle,” Bucky cursed himself. He thought he’d buried that part of himself when he met Y/N, when she gave him her smile and her heart without a care of his past and he was selfish enough to take it. He should’ve known he’d fall back in, it’s just who you are. Just when he thought his night couldn’t get any worse, his phone vibrated from his pocket, a text from Celeste. Right, just what he needed. Of course, it was going to get worse.

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So there he was almost at midnight, knocking at her apartment door, hoping he’d get this over and done with fast enough. He really wasn’t in the mood for any of her theatrics, he just wanted it to be over. She opened her door slightly and flashed her seductive smile before revealing herself in her new form-fitting red lingerie. Bucky rolled his eyes and groaned. Why couldn’t she take the hint? It turned out she didn’t at all. She took his groan as a good sign and wrapped her arms around him.

“Missed you Bucky,” she pouted before she rose on her tiptoes to try and kiss his neck. Bucky immediately pushed her by the arms away from him.

“Stop, Celeste. That’s enough!” he barked at her.

“What the hell, Bucky!” she screamed back at him, indignant.

“We’re over. I already told you, so please just stop with your messages and your calls. You knew this wasn’t gonna last,” That was true. The moment she saw the ring on his finger and still pursued him, he made sure to let her understand that their relationship was never going to get any further from being physical, that was their arrangement.

“What we have is good, Bucky! How could you let this go?” She pleaded, launching herself at him again to change his mind, hoping that he’d remember just how much he loved her body and how she could make him forget.

“Stop!” Bucky said, grabbing her arms again to push her away. He didn’t know what the hell he saw in her now. He always thought they were on the same page, she thrived on the thrill and he needed an escape.

“So what’s your plan now? Go back to your boring wife and play house with your family?” She scoffed while Bucky stiffened, feeling his jaw tic.

“You’re a broken man, Bucky. You need me, I can help you.” She let her fingers trail his chest. Bucky’s eerily calm demeanor disguised the storm he felt brewing inside. He grabbed her hand in a bruising grip, his voice menacingly low as he told her,

“Don’t you dare talk about my family like that. If you want to continue destroying your life, then go ahead, chase another married man for all I care. I am out.” He walked away from her, striding out the door while he felt his blood pump in his veins.

“I hate you, Bucky Barnes!” She screamed from the open doorway.

You and me both, he thought to himself.  You and me both.

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He let out a sigh as he leaned back on the couch and massaged his temples, his dry throat working while the events of the night played on a loop in his head. What a fucking mess I made. His head pounded as shame filled him. He couldn’t go home and face Y/N right away, not while he was drunk and desperate for forgiveness. She didn’t deserve him drunkenly begging his apologies. He was fully planning on begging and groveling however way she wanted him to but not while his mind was muddled with alcohol. What was it she said again? Drinking and evading were what he was good at. It had hurt but she was right. Thankfully, he had just enough sense to crash in his office. He was a mess, but he was willing to do anything, anything to have his wife back and make her happy if she’d let him. He didn’t deserve her, he knew that too, but he was a selfish man. He needed her, she was the only woman he ever loved, the only one who made him feel right. Suddenly, his phone lit up from the coffee table in front of him, his brows furrowing when he saw Y/N and Steve’s missed calls. Dread formed at the pit of his stomach as his blood ran cold making him run as fast as he could out of his office.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Where is she?” Bucky’s voice boomed around the emergency waiting room while he ran straight to Steve. Steve’s jaw muscles clenched as he watched his friend run a hand through his disheveled hair, his skin pale, and his sweat and breath reeking of alcohol.

“Where the hell were you, Bucky?” Steve squared his shoulders, standing up. “Your daughter is sick! And your wife has been looking for you! What the hell has gotten into you lately?” he asked  accusingly, his voice rising. Several heads in the room turned to them but Steve couldn’t care less. His friend was going to have a piece of his mind.

“I know, I know. I fell asleep at my office,” Bucky replied knowing how pathetic he sounded even to his own ears.

“Bullshit! Do you really expect anyone to believe that? God damn it, Bucky! Look at you!” Steve’s nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The normally restrained Steve with his easy smiles gone, in his place was a man on the brink of losing control. He thought of Bucky as a brother but the overwhelming urge to punch him was so strong he was considering it. If they were anywhere but at the hospital for Lizzie, he was sure to have done it already. Lizzie, the sweet little girl he loved as his niece, was sick while her dad looked like he just came from someone else’s bed. Steve had his doubts at first but looking at him now, he was sure.

“How could you do this to your family? You, of all people, should know better than this!” He jammed his index finger into Bucky’s chest making him stumble back but he remained silent and accepted everything his best friend said knowing he deserved it.

“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t answered my phone? Y/N almost drove Lizzie in her state of panic, even though she’d been drinking. Did you know that?” Steve’s gruff voice made Bucky’s eyes flash with alarm before he looked down, gritting his teeth. He could feel Steve crowd in on him, taunting him and he wished he’d just punch him, hurt him. He deserved it. He deserved worse.

“Steve,” Y/N’s quiet, assertive voice interrupted them. She laid her hand on Steve’s back to calm him down, making him step away from Bucky and let go of the huge breath he’d been holding.

“Lizzie’s asleep. She’s feeling better now. The results of the tests shouldn’t take long,” she informed both of them, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s.

“Steve, you should head home. I’m sorry I woke you up, I’m not even sure if this was even an emergency. I think I might’ve just panicked,” she tried to keep her voice light but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, her back remaining rigid.

“Hey, no. You did the right thing,” Steve reassured her, nodding. She gave him a small smile before hugging him.

“Thank you Steve, really. What would we have done without you?” Y/N spoke to his neck. He rubbed his hand along her back, willing her the strength and comfort she needed to face her husband.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything would be fine. Are you sure you want me to go?” He asked her gently.

“You’ve done enough. You should rest. I promise to text you how it goes,” she said encouragingly at him. He nodded at her before turning to look coldly at Bucky. He strode away from them not bothering to say goodbye to him but Bucky reached his hand out, grabbing his arm.

“Thank you Steve, for being here. I mean it.” His voice was raw with sincerity, trying to convey just how grateful he was to have a brother in him. Steve’s jaw tensed before he nodded once and pulled his arm out of Bucky’s grasp, leaving him and Y/N alone together.

“Y/N…” Bucky said as he faced her, guilt and shame written all over his face. She turned to face him finally, her expression blank, as she asked him in a calm and steady voice,

“Do you love her?”

Her resolve not at all betraying the riot inside her mind and heart, ignoring the pain that lodged itself deep in her chest. At last, she had the courage to ask what she wanted to know all long, what kept her awake at night when she thought of him and where he was, what he was doing with her. Did she know him the way she did? Did she run her fingers down his spine the way he liked? Did she kiss that soft spot behind his ear that made him shiver? Did she love him? Did he love her? It seemed all her questions ended and revolved around that. Funny how only three words were all it took to change their lives forever.

Bucky’s breath caught in his chest as he swallowed a lump in his throat. This was it, he thought, she was going to leave him.

“Y/N, please. I wasn’t—”

“Answer the question, Bucky. Stop treating me like I’m stupid. I deserve to know,” she cut him off in her eerily resolved voice, and raised her chin. She looked so brave and so regal and he was so so stupid to have taken her for granted, to have neglected her. He could never forgive himself.

“No, Y/N, no. God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleaded frantically as he grabbed her hands in his, only to have her flinch and pull herself away harshly from him as if his touch burned her.

“Y/N please—” he tried again.

“No, no, don’t touch me,” she said, emotion finally seeping into her voice, her eyes brimming with tears that she would not let fall down. Not for him, never for him anymore.

“I don’t love her, Y/N. I love you. You’re the only one, please listen,” he tried again, his voice sounding pathetic to his own ears.

“Stop, Bucky. It doesn’t matter!” She said, her nostrils flaring, eyebrows drawn together. She huffed, regaining her control as she drew in long breaths, and shook her head, “It doesn’t matter,”

Bucky felt his world spin, fear pulsing in his veins as he stood frozen, while his wife told him there was nothing he could say or do that would matter anymore. He had made his choice, he had to lie in it. Still, while his mind understood and knew what she was saying, the heart was a treacherous thing, and his hoped and fought against all odds to have her listen, to get her back.

“Y/N, please. I love you. Let me explain, I’m begging—”

“Bucky, Stop. I can’t,” she shook her head, unable to finish, not knowing what to say as she took several steps back.

“I can’t even look at you right now. I just, I can’t,” she continued to shake her head, her thoughts and feelings stuck in her throat. She was disgusted with him, she couldn’t even stand him. And he just stood there, watching her longingly, his hands clenching at his sides when she started to walk away.

“Y/N wait… I don’t mean… Just, can I stay for Lizzie? Bring you guys home?”

Y/N had never heard him sound so small and unsure. She let out a breath she’d been holding, he was Lizzie’s father after all, no matter how he treated her, that wasn’t ever going to change. She nodded her head, knowing how much it would break her heart to have him still here but she couldn’t just think of herself, she had to think of her daughter, and she’d do anything for her.

“Thank you,” she heard his defeated voice say above the din as she put one step in front of the other, not once daring to look back at him while the sea of chatter and activity in the emergency room droned on, leaving a sorrowful man standing in the middle of the waiting room watching the one thing in his life he did right walk away. Her voice a constant echo in his mind, “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,”

Part 6

_____________________________________________________________________

A/N: Sorry to have misled you in the ending of Part 4! Hope you enjoyed this one and let me know what you think! 

Tags: @wannabedaphne​ @pinkisokay​ @jgiiy​ @scarletnerd05​ @93generation​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ @ilovesupersoldiers​ @joannie95​ @xapham​ @hazel0clouds​ @foreveralone19588​ @angstytoddd​ @nsfwsebbie​ @thisishowdynastiesareborn​ @learisa​ @bucky-fanfiction​ @guns-and-angels​ @mylife-love-and-other-things​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @tinystudentfirepurse @captainamerica-is-bae​ @cloudyskylines​ @chipilerendi​ @yesfanficsaremylife​ @mcueveryday​ @visiblethirdspace @afterlaughter27​ @mr-robot-x​ @captainchrisstan​ @agusdoti​ @mrsfox79​ @cha-lyn​ @xoxabs88xox​ @rinkashirikitateku @racing-against-the-sunset  @thefridgeismybestie @inactivewhore @doyleme1103 @rynabarnesrogers @remilupin22 @winterboobear11 @marvelousbarnes @groovyhumantrashherring  @sarcastic-and-cool@enchantedcruelsummer @princesskhy @unlikelygalaxygiver @atomicsoulcollecto@fandomsfallnomore @ritzintherabbithole @too-many-lanes @jxtr610

[oikadori]

Happy Birthday Oikawa

Oikawa x f!Reader 

Summary: It's been more than 6 months since the last time you and Oikawa had been in each other’s arms, he has been in Argentina training while you went to the United States to study. But now his birthday is coming

WC: 1,5K

Genre:  angst,fluff, a little suggestive,swearing

“I miss you so much, (Y/N),” your heart clenched at the sound of his voice lowering  “God I wish I could be there with you.” a small smile appears on your lips while you handle your bag to the airport assistant. “I know, Tooru, I miss you too.” 

“It’s just so frustrating!! I want to hold you, to kiss you but I can’t…And I just-” his voice raises and he starts to speak faster, you reach the boarding wait room knowing you’ll soon have to end the call.

“Babe, I have-” 

“You know what??” he sounded desperate and kept talking.

“Babe, I know it is hard but I really have to-” you tried to add but Oikawa’s voice didn't let you “Fuck it!! I’m taking the next flight to Boston, that’s it” you stiffened,a large sigh coming out of your lips,  you were 120% done with his complains. You shake your head thinking about your exasperated boyfriend, and how he’ll react when he sees you.

“HEY TRASHYKAWA! Listen to me, I have to go. I was supposed to work on... a group project.” the woman behind you looks at you frowning, how couldn’t she,  with that scream of yours.

“Sorry babe, I got a little carried away...wait, what?” he blinks a couple of times,  looking down at his watch, 11:20 pm.

 “But you were supposed to be the first one to say Happy Birthday to me…” even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture his mouth pouting. 

 “I know Tooru, I’m really sorry. I have to go,” Oikawa bites his lip “Okay…” his voice is barely a whisper, you take a deep breath,  not knowing how much can you keep this going. All you want to do is to tell him that, after the next 5 hours you will be hugging him tightly  “I’ll call you first time in the morning, don’t do anything stupid ‘till then, okay?” a little smile adorns his lips 

“(Y/N), what can I possibly do in the next 6 hours, plus, I do have a sleeping schedule to follow” you let out a ringing laugh, Oikawa squeals at the sound of it, seeing that gorgeous smile of yours again will be the best birthday gift he could ever ask. When was the last time he actually saw that pretty smile? Thought you never liked your laugh, he never stops telling you how cute it is.

“Who knows? You always manage to surprise me” the line of boarding moved, making you the next to show your ticket, an endearing chuckle came from the other side of the call, making it almost impossible for you to finish the conversation with him,  “I really have to go...I love you Tooru, bye.” You quickly place your phone on your handbag and turn to the counter lady. 

“I love you too” his back drops on the bed a little shocked about how quickly you finished the call. “Fuck” his forearms are crossed over his face, his mind wandering over the last time you shared dinner together, held hands , slept on the same bed to wake up next to each other.

But most painful was that he couldn’t stop thinking about how your lips tasted and how your skin felt under his touch. Oikawa wasn’t able to restrain a small sob from his lips. 

12:00 pm and not even a text from you, were you that busy to not even text him? No, you were actually updating Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun about the plan the three of you were pulling out.

  A little sore made its way to his chest, This week you barely talked with each other. He didn’t know that you were busy organizing your trip to Argentina just to be with him. 

Worry written over his features, his eyelids became heavier and his breathing slowed, fatigue making its way in his bod, after all, he just has made its way back from training. He turned to the side hugging a pillow pretending he is holding you and closed his eyes longing for you to be there with him.

///

You stand in front of a door in the middle of the hall, your eyes checked the address in your phone and looked at photo Oikawa sent you a few months ago when he moved in. Yeah, this is the place, a big smile appears on your face and you knock the door expectantly. Nothing. It’s almost 5:30 am, he’s likely to be sleeping, knowing his schedule you realize today is his day off. Of course, he is sleeping.

 A few minutes after, you’re calling your boyfriend. 

“(Y/N)-chan?” Oikawa’s voice rings from the other side, hoarse and slumberous. 

“ Happy birthday Tooru!! Sorry for not telling you sooner, I- The guys stayed until just now and…” 

“Awww, Thanks (Y/N)!! Don’t worry babe, I understand... you sound tired” a huge yawn coming out from his lips, you giggle at his words, if you knew Tooru. Your heart beats faster at his soft words, hearing him always made your heart skip a bit. “Babe? Everything ok?” his words still are drowsy and another yawn makes it through his lips. Oikawa won’t tell you that his eyes are closing with each passing second because he only wants to hears your voice as long as he possibly can. And you know this. Your heartbeats speed up and your cheeks heating up.  

“Yeah, it’s gonna be more than ok” you whispered “I’ll let you sleep now, I know you need to have a good sleep to keep that pretty face”  you tease, as sleepy as he is Oikawa lets out a warm laugh and grins at the phone. Before he can fully answer, you silence your phone and knock the door with powerful thumps.

“Of course, to wake up this handsome I- What the fuck? Sorry babe, some idiot it’s knocking on my door, wait for me a minute please” 

The door opens and Oikawa’s eyes widen, his tiredness disappearing instantly. You blush at the view in front, his phone con hand, his messy brown locks framing his features, and his bare torso exposed to your eyes. 

“Guess I’m the idiot, uh? “ you smile sweetly at him “Surprise T-” before you can say anything else, Oikawa is already all over you. He kisses every inch of your face while holding you tightly, his lips brush your neck and make you let out a vociferous laugh. 

You gently push him a little, feeling his skin under your touch is hard to regain your composure “Happy Birthday Tooru” You cup his cheeks and kiss his lips, his hands move to your waist and pulls you closer. Sharing a passionate kiss that was longed for too much. 

“I still can’t believe you are here, how?” His forehead rest on yours and your fingers strike his locks and caress his neck. 

“Well, It turns out your girlfriend is amazing soo..” His laugh fills the hall and sends warmth to your stomach. 

 “This is the best birthday gift I could possibly get, you know?” he lifts your chin up, stroking your cheek, his eyes filled with tenderness “I love you so much...Fuck, I missed you” Small tears appear on both of you, a smile set on your lips.

“You are the best thing it could possibly happen to me, Tooru” his eyes dazzle while wiping your tears with the back of his hand. Both of you restrain yourselves from becoming a crying mess, slowing down your breathing. 

“Well... are you gonna invite me in? Or are we staying here the rest of the night?” you cock your eyebrows making Oikawa smirk playfully at you. He observes you, but his gaze looks ...darker.

“So many things we could do here, tho” he leans , pressing your body against the wall, trapping you between his arms. You feel his chest against yours and notice how bulkier his forearms look now. You manage to collect all your self-control and keep a playful mood. 

“Tooru” you whisper bowing closer to his ear “Iwaizumi, Makki and Mattsun are coming here in about 2 hours,” 

“Are those 3 coming too?... You guys are awesome” his face displays a big smile and shiny eyes. Is he really that shocked that his friends are coming to see him?  “In that case, love,  we should make most of the time we have left” His husky voice promises so many things, sending shivers through your body. You are genuinely surprised how easy he shifts his moods. 

“I like the idea. Maybe, after you  help me unpacking, hmm?” 

“That won’t take long, isn't it?”Oikawa hums in your neck  

“Well I’m making a whole semester here, I think I brought plenty of stuff” you coo, Oikawa steps back and his eyes glisten in delight. He takes a look at your suitcases noticing for the first time how big they are and hurries to take them in his apartment. 

“That’s just the best news I’ve heard so far. You’re making this day better and better (Y/N)” Oikawa’s hand holds yours tightly as he closes the door. “You make me so happy, babe, I’m really lucky...thank you...for ev-” One of your fingers presses his lips, you  lean on your feet to reach his cheek, planting a gentle kiss

 “ Anything for you, I love you Tooru. Happy birthday”

It is  almost a week late but I had to do something for his birthday. 

Here are some other things I made about Oikawa (⊃‿⊂) .  Ahhhhhh I’m still new to this

↳ ∴ Master List ∴

[owl-with-a-pen]

Hola querida! We need a story where brainy says something along the lines of “touch her and I’ll kill you” or “don’t you dare touch her..” we don’t see many instances of protective boyfriend brainy.

- I was trying to think of a scenario for this for a while, but 6x03 gave me an intriguing idea. Thanks for the prompt! x

Brainy had expected this task to be easy.

After all, compared to every other thought track currently running simultaneously through his mind, gathering a box of belongings from Lena’s old workplace hardly needed space for consideration.

Brainy understood why Lena didn’t want to face Luthor Corp again, certainly not to collect the meagre selection of knick-knacks that one of her old assistants had no doubt scooped into a piece of cardboard for her to carry out with her tail between her legs. It was a cruelty, plain and simple, and Brainy was beginning to learn how much such cruelties stung.

So, when Lena had mentioned with offhanded distaste what she needed to do that day, Brainy was more than happy to volunteer to go in her steed. It worked in his favour, after all. Alex had been pushing him to get out of the lab for some fresh air for nearly eighteen hours - now he could fulfil her request. 

With one thought track focused on reformatting Nia’s training simulation, and another remotely accessing the Phantom Zone data map for any new leads, Brainy found he had far too much of his mind left wide open - places where far more dangerous thoughts were now encouraged to grow more often than not.

Perhaps a distraction was exactly what he required.

The office should have been empty. That’s what Lena had said, that’s what Luthor Corp’s security feed had suggested. Brainy hadn’t considered any alternative outcomes, and so the moment he’d spied Lena’s belongings sat on the table by the sofa, he’d headed there immediately.

“Not even a week without her assets and I see my sister’s already wrangled someone into doing the heavy lifting for her.”

The sound of that voice sent every nerve in Brainy’s body on edge.

He’d been doing better. Over the last few days since his talk with Lena, he’d been doing better. Giving himself an emotional outlet, allowing them to flow from him instead of being boxed inside, turning to toxic waste in his gut. He’d even found it easier to switch his attention from the television when Lex’s face predictably appeared for one of his seemingly never-ending publicity stunts.

But, that was television. That was circuits and screens, separating them from one another.

Now, Lex was stood there in the room with him, Lena’s desk acting as their only partition.

Brainy could feel Lex’s eyes on him, shark-like and hungry, waiting for his response. And so, Brainy kept his jaw locked tight, focusing his line of sight on the box and nothing else. Of picture frames and other keepsakes.

A photo of Lena and Kara stared up at him, their smiles so pure and genuine it nearly stung.

The acid in Brainy’s lungs swelled.

Aggravatingly, his lack of response only made Lex that much more talkative.

“It was an impressive hack, by the way,” Lex continued casually. “I assumed you were the mastermind behind it. Reminds me why I wanted you on Team Lex to begin with.”

Brainy stiffened. “I was never on your team.”

He shouldn’t have spoken. Shouldn’t have given in. But suddenly, all that he had done to free himself of his emotional backlog hardly seemed enough. It surged from the very depths of his uninhibited mind, hissing and spitting like vitriolic acid.

Which only seemed to make Lex’s confidence grow.

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Lex asked. “Does it help you sleep at night?”

Brainy bared his teeth.

“Oh no,” Lex said, fake sympathy dripping from his voice. “Something tells me it’s not working.”

Brainy pursed his lips, instead reaching once more for the box. His arms trembled with wasted potential, but he ignored their protests. He had a task to do. Unexpected interruptions aside, Lena was counting on him to carry it out. And he would not fail.

“Maybe it isn’t for you at all then,” Lex wondered aloud. “Maybe you sell that story for your girlfriend’s benefit.”

An ugly flash of red tinted Brainy’s vision.

“Nia, isn’t it?” Lex asked innocently. “I hear she works for CatCo, quite the up-and-coming journalist. Although, CatCo is such a troublesome place of work, isn’t it? Always getting destroyed in the crosshairs of city-wide threats. Just how long can that place go without another casualty?”

Brainy could hear the barely disguised threat behind Lex’s words.

Fresh rage bubbled inside his chest, inching closer and closer towards his heart. The box blurred from his line of focus and, in the next instant, Brainy found that he was staring directly at Lex, his fingers clenched so tightly he felt the sharp prick of his own nails digging against his flesh.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Brainy said, his voice so low he barely recognised it as his own. But it was his voice, and he realised all too soon that his threat was very real.

After all, he could do it. He knew exactly how to do it. Multiple ways, in fact, flashing through his mind with startling precision, each one more elaborate and gruesome than the last. Watching the light extinguish from Lex Luthor’s eyes… nothing would make him happier.

His ancestors would revel in it. They already were, louder than ever before, melding with the rage that was corroding his lungs with every breath he took.

Some quiet part of Brainy’s mind startled at such inclinations, such a desire to be one like the bloodline he had fought so hard to renounce.

But what was one whisper against a hoard of enticing cheers?

Lex only stared at him, with that smile that never quite reached his eyes, urging him to the very edge of his emotional barriers. “Empty threats, Brainiac-5.”

That was all it took.

Brainy didn’t remember clearing the room, only that when he was fully aware of himself again, he was stood in front of Lex, his right hand gripped firmly around his throat. Every implant inside of him was fired up, ready to snap his neck at the slightest provocation. 

When a gleeful laugh tumbled from Lex’s lips, the red staining Brainy’s vision only grew stronger. He growled out, slamming Lex’s body against the reinforced windows with enough force that they shuddered inside their fixtures.

All he needed to do was activate his implants to their highest capacity, activate his ring, and he could take Lex high into the sky. He could watch the oxygen drain from his lungs. Watch his eyes bulge and swell.

Or… or he could simply drop him. Drop him down into the city he nearly destroyed, allowing him to fall with such velocity that the only thing that might remain of him on the sidewalk would be a smear of blood and bone. Like he had never been a person at all.

He had never been a person at all.

Brainy bared his teeth, looking his enemy in the eyes.

Which was when he saw it.

There was no fear there. In fact, if anything, Lex only looked deeply satisfied with what he’d done. What emotions he’d brought to the surface.

Brainy’s eyes flickered back and forth uselessly over that expression, trying desperately to make sense of it. But it… it didn’t make sense. He was threatening Lex’s life and… and he didn’t care.

No. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He was enjoying this. This game. This…

The red film washed from Brainy’s eyes all at once.

He let go of Lex’s throat, stumbling back a pace, gripping uselessly at Lena’s old desk, squeezing it numbly.

Brainy’s chest heaved.

This wasn’t him. He’d spent months now hiding from his truest self, allowing the rage of everything Lex had put him through to fester into a corrosive bile inside his chest and stomach.

But, he was not a killer. He would not turn to the darkest version of himself. He had fought far too long and hard to prove that he was not his kin. That he would never follow the path of his clan.

Lena had let Lex go. And now… now Brainy knew he must do the same.

Lex had crumpled when Brainy had removed his hand, holding tight to his throat between dramatic gasps of air. Still, he was smiling, something crazed shining in that expression. Something... desperate.

Ah. Now, Brainy believed he understood. 

Lex needed this… this sick form of attention. Without his sister, without Supergirl, he had run out of enemies to aggravate.

Perhaps it had not been happenstance that this office had been inhabited when Brainy had arrived, after all.

“You aren’t worth my attention,” Brainy said through his teeth, trying to draw in from the emotionless façade he had pulled in the past. It was far more of a struggle than it had ever been before, but it was enough to keep his voice steady.  Brainy took a step forward, watching Lex quizzically, as though he were nothing but an animal inside a cage. “My friends,” Brainy continued levelly, “my loved ones, we protect each other, but who would protect you?”

Lex blinked, the smallest furrow creasing his brow, a murmur of confusion.

Brainy’s lips twitched. “If I were to kill you, who would even care if you were gone?” He smirked. “No one.”

Brainy turned away from him then, ignoring the angry red handprint that still painted Lex’s throat, ignoring his enemy’s attempts to goad him even as he headed out the door.

Instead, he took Lena’s box.

And he walked away.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 26

 --------

Back at Castle McLeod, I was unpacking my bags once again. I hadn’t really planned on staying more than a couple months but knowing Beacon Hills... It could be a while. A soft knock made me look back towards the door. Lachlan was leaving against the thick wooden door, arms crossed over his chest. 

“You’re back early.” He said, walking into the room. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged, closing the top drawer of the dresser, “Scott talked me into coming back to keep me and little tyke safe.” I patted my stomach. 

“So... How’s Derek?” 

“Alive and well. Unfortunately, Derek was put under a spell. It seems like that woman really wanted to keep him distracted.” I put my hands on my hips, “Speaking of, why were you so supportive of me pulling a ‘Michael’?”

“I can hear you!” Michael shouted from the next room over. 

Lachlan chuckled, “I supported you because you have to at least have someone supporting you. And I knew you wouldn’t kill him. You love him too much.” 

“Why didn’t you try to stop me if you knew I wouldn’t?” 

“Because you need to make your own decisions. Your own choices.” He picked up the family photo album that I placed on the bed, smiling down at the crest that decorated the front, “Our parents made a choice for us, we need to make our own.” He made a good point. I guess it was easier to talk with Lachlan about my situation because he had been through the same thing. He lost a part of his life, he lost his partner. 

He set down the photo album, “I came because the other members have gathered in the main room to discuss their hunter situations. We were hoping, well, I was hoping that you would come in and share your tale.” 

Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck, “I... I don’t know.” 

“There’s no judgement here.” Lachlan said, “I’ll be by your side every step of the way.” His eyes were kind and genuine. He seemed so wise but he was still so young. One could only imagine what he had been through. 

“Okay.” I nodded, “Let’s go.” 

-

After getting a little more gussied up, Lachlan led me down to what could have been a movie set for the knights of the round table since there was a large, wooden round table with chairs around it. Each chair had a tapestry draped over the back with what I was assuming were the crests from the different clans since the tapestry on the chair Lachlan pulled out for me was my family’s. They were at least five other werewolf clans there. They all started their story the same way, everything was fine. There were working well with the hunters in their area, a mishap here or there that was resolved. When it got to me though, that was the interesting part. 

“And finally, our last member (Y/N) of the (Y/L/N) clan.” Lachlan motioned to me to the whole group. Everyone was staring so intently. 

“Uh, hi.” I said awkwardly, “I’m (Y/N). And uh the hunter situation hasn’t been great.” I stood up, “You all knew my father’s deal with Chris Argent, weapons in exchange for safety. He became a friend to our family. But he was the only one who wanted that. After abusing my partner as a child, his sister, Kate, succeeded in murdering the majority of the Hale pack which prompted my parents to conduct the Wolf Eclipse spell on me. She didn’t stop there. Laura Hale had figured out who helped her start the fire. Unfortunately, Peter Hale then killed her and took matters into his own hands and started killing off her list. This scared Kate, so she returned to Beacon Hills to finish what she started. She tortured my partner and I, and led her niece down the same path as herself. A path where cruelty and death were right. After Kate’s death, their father Gerard came into the picture. That’s where I learned how bad Kate could be. Gerard is dead. Chris’ wife is dead after being bitten, and his daughter is on the brink of becoming just like her aunt. So... The situation isn’t great.” I sat back down, “I’m sure Chris will be fine working with us, but to say that things are fine is wrong.” There was silence. It almost seemed like the rest of the clans were uncomfortable with my statement. I’m glad they got to have  The meeting adjourned soon after. 

-

SIX MONTHS LATER

MICHAEL

“What do you mean you have no idea what you’re doing?!” (Y/N) roared, her eyes bright red. Michael had accompanied her to the mainland to do some shopping for last minute baby things when she had started to feel cramping. They had gotten a hotel room on the mainland since the ferry didn’t run this late. So now it was just Michael and (Y/N) in a hotel room and he probably wasn’t going to get his security deposit back. (Y/N) was leaning back against the bed, holding her large baby bump. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve been in this situation?! Zero! Zero times!” Michael tugged at his hair, trying to stay calm in this very not-calm situation. Michael really didn’t have too much training from the Lunar Circle as a bodyguard. He had been dead for a couple months so it was safe to say he missed the werewolf delivery class. He was screwed. 

“Well, you better do something before I rip your HEAD OFF!” Her roar was cut off by her whining in pain.

“Let’s just calm down, alright?! I’m doing the best I can!” Michael pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling into Lachlan’s office. 

 “Praetor McLeod speaking.” 

“Praetor, it’s Keaton, I have a bit of a situation here-” A loud crash made him look back at his guard. (Y/N) had thrown a lamp at the wall. Yeah, definitely not getting that deposit back. 

“What was that?”

“That’s the situation, sir. (Y/N)’s gone into labor.”

“What?!” He shouted, “How far apart are her contractions?”

“I don’t know...”

“Well, ask her!”    

Michael looked back at (Y/N), “Hey (Y/N/N)? How far apart are your contractions?” (Y/N) had fully shifted, her fangs looked ready to bite down into me. She roared loudly in response. 

“I’d say pretty close.” Michael squeaked out. 

Lachlan groaned in frustration, “Dammit! Looks like you’re going to have to deliver the baby.” There was shuffling around, “I’m gonna get on the next flight to the mainland.” 

“Wait-wait-wait, what? I can’t deliver a baby!”

“I’ll be there soon.” Lachlan hung up. Michael turned around slowly, dropping his phone on the ground. (Y/N) was on her hands and knees on the ground, screaming through her teeth. 

“Okay... I can do this.” Michael said confidently. The look in her red eyes made the confidence fly out of him like a bat out of hell. 

“I can’t do this.” 

-

They made it back to the castle in the early morning. Lachlan and Michael stood outside of the infirmary, waiting to get inside. 

“So how’d it go?” Lachlan asked, hands behind his back. He honestly looked stressed. When he had run into the hotel room, he looked disheveled with new parent panic, which was interesting. 

“Uh...” Michael looked down at his arm in a sling. During a contraction, (Y/N) had pulled and dislocated his shoulder, “All things considered?” He looked back at Praetor McLeod, “Pretty well.” The door in front of them opened, a nurse waved them inside. 

(Y/N) was on the bed, holding a tiny baby in her arms. She didn’t look at them when they walked in, refusing to take her eyes from the infant. She was smiling so bright, a twinkle in her tired eyes. The child was sleeping peacefully.

“Well, look at you.” Lachlan grinned, “Tiny little thing.” He went to her side, looking down at the baby with such adoration. 

It had been a while since Michael had seen a baby, and the feeling that overcame him when the baby was born... He could only compare it to being a father. 

Michael stepped forward, looking down at the little boy, “Look at all that hair.” He said in awe. Even as a newborn, his head was covered in thick dark hair. 

“Have you seen Derek?” She chuckled, sweeping some hair from the little boy’s forehead gently with her fingertips. 

“Excuse me, Miss (Y/L/N).” All of their heads were brought to look at the home nurse that had come from the local hospital, “We have all the paperwork ready for you to look at.” (Y/N) looked up at the nurse. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” 

The nurse clicked the pen, “Alright, what’s the wee lad’s name?” 

“Nicholas Noah Hale.” She said. Hale? She was really giving him his last name. After everything?

“Is it safe to give him Derek’s last name?” He asked, tapping his foot. She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion. 

“It’s fine.” She shook off his concern.

“And the father’s name?” The nurse asked. 

“Derek S. Hale.” Even hearing his name made his blood boil. 

-

(Y/N) 

The infirmary - mostly Lachlan- wanted me to stay in the infirmary overnight for observation. I guess being a werewolf certainly helped with the pain management. After calling Uncle Noah and Stiles, it was time to call Nicholas’ father. Although I’m sure he felt the pain I went through already. I had sent him a message that I was going to video call him, I just hoped that he was in a place where he could. 

I had the laptop set up on the table that was attached to the medical bed. I pressed his name then hit video call. I watched as the virtual call ang, praying that he could answer. Finally, it connected. The video feed opened, showing Derek. He was in the office of the depot, Peter was in the background, looking over his nephew’s shoulder. 

“Ugh.” My smile fell, “Why’s he here?” 

“It’s his laptop, I didn’t have a choice.” Derek grumbled. 

“Come on, show me my little great-nephew.” Peter whined, leaning in closer. 

Shaking my head, I bent the screen down to show Derek and Peter the sleeping baby in my arms. 

“Wow...” Derek said, grinning brightly, “I wish I could be there to-...” He blinked a few times, “I should be there.” 

“I wish you were here too.” I smiled sadly, “He looks just like you.” 

“Poor kid.” Peter mumbled. Derek looked over his shoulder. 

“Go.” Derek growled, “Now.”

“But-” 

“Now!” Peter quickly moved out of frame and out of the office. Derek looked back at me, shaking his head a little. 

Little cries brought attention to the little boy, “Somebody’s hungry.” I started to unclasp my hospital gown. I had breast fed him previously but it was still a weird feeling. 

“I’m in love.” Derek said softly, “I love you... So much. I love him so much.” He looked determined, “I’m gonna make Beacon Hills safe again. Safe for both of you.” 

“I know you will.” I said softly, stroking Nicholas’ cheek softly, “But please be careful.” 

“I’m always careful.” My glare changed his smug expression, “Okay, maybe I’m not. But I promise to be extra careful.” 

----------- 

Read part 27 here!

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