#so anyways i hope the drugs work. nothing yet but it's supposed to take weeks and weeks so we'll see

[thelonelynindroid]

I would like to thank Brad Bakshi for inadvertently making me get medicated after 18 years of mental illness

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?” 

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. 

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator. 

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys. 

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings. 

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips. 

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided. 

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze. 

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it. 

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself. 

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money. 

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger. 

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over. 

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch. 

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough. 

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers. 

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed. 

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin. 

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided. 

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell. 

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined. 

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips. 

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom. 

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly. 

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls. 

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred. 

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table. 

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him. 

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door. 

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?” 

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe. 

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.” 

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked. 

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door. 

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight. 

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly. 

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow. 

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.” 

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again. 

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table. 

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen. 

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day. 

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t. 

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy. 

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support. 

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve. 

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod. 

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away. 

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one. 

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled. 

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest. 

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house. 

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night. 

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty. 

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink. 

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile. 

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink. 

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door. 

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands. 

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl. 

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa. 

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID. 

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back. 

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you. 

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger. 

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat. 

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

*** 

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side. 

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed. 

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room. 

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed. 

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?” 

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away. 

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay. 

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate. 

“Good girl.”

[fatherforgivethem]

Here is the mini story for Aegon's headcanon done in this post! I really hope you all like this, and I should have this up on Ao3 soon so that you can all keep up with the mini stories for each of them!

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Aegon felt the way that the foggy air began to soak his hair. He supposed that it was rather naive to hope for dry hair in his town. From the ocean to the almost constant rain filled air, Forks was sure to ruin people’s hair and clothes. He should have worn a hat. Be he didn’t. And there he was, standing on the front lawn of some kid who was throwing a party. People filled the yard and the house, and from the open front door, he could see people cheering as one of the other teenagers won a drinking game.

He didn’t want to be there. His muscles were sore from work at the garage, and he was tired from last night. Last night being the same shit, he was doing right then. Selling drugs to stupid teens and burnouts. If they could pay of course; he really hated when they couldn’t pay.

He did a quick check of his pockets, and when he could feel the little plastic bags, he made his way onto the porch, and into the loud, overly warm, house. He didn’t have to look far to see the people that he was selling to that night. He could see the Franken brothers, beers in hand, at the bottom of the grand staircase. It wasn’t long before they noticed Aegon in return. They gave him two matching smirks, their identical faces making a chill go through his spine.

“Ben, Jack.” Aegon said as he approached them. “Aegon.” They both said at the same time. Aegon ignored how creepy his name sounded coming from their mouths. Instead, he jerked his head to the side, and led the twins to more secluded area of the house. There was a bathroom that was thankfully empty, and so Aegon gave a shove to the twins’ backs and closed the door behind himself.

“Always kind HC.” Jack, or was it Ben, said. Aegon rolled his eyes and plucked two bags from his pocket, “And yet you always bye from me. You’re beginning to look a little desperate.” He said, a small grin lacing his lips as he spoke.

This was the only good things about the job, expect for the pay of course. He could be as mean as he wanted to his costumers, and they would always come back for more. They needed him. They got hooked to what he was selling, and they needed more, or they were trying to impress others; whatever it was he didn’t care, because he also needed them. He needed the money that they threw around like it was nothing. They needed each other, it was business, a needy one at that.

When one of the twins went to grab the bags in Aegon’s hand, Aegon pulled them back and shook his head with a click of his tongue, “Money first, Franken.” He told them.

The other twin, Jack, Aegon guessed, handed over four bills. Aegon took them and counted the bills, making sure it was the correct amount, and tossed the bags to the twins. He stuffed the bills into his front pocket and nodded his head at the twins, “Don’t take it all at once.” He told them before leaving the bathroom and walking back into the ever-growing party.

That was how the rest of his night went, sneaking off into corners and handing off bags full of pills in return for cash. He made sure to count each wad of cash before handing over the supply. With each sell he would watch as the pills that he needed were taken by rich kids who only wanted to get high. He could endure a couple of restless nights for the cash he was getting at the party. Next week it would be the medication he had been prescribed when he hurt his shoulder back when he’d played baseball. He had a few of those left that he could use.

He felt a tinge of guilt when he sold a smaller bag to a young girl, maybe two years younger than himself. It was more money than they were worth, but she’d forget all about it the next day anyways. If she didn’t go overboard with the amount he had given her.

With his pockets full and his brain fried from hours of talking to highschoolers, and the jocks and low lives he used to go to school with, he was finally out of bags. When he asked someone for the time, he cursed and made his way out of the house. The diner would stay open all night, but his brothers shift would end in less that fifteen minutes. He needed to get both of them home before curfew was up.

He may have been eighteen, and his brother seventeen, but they were under their parents’ roof. And as his dad liked to say, “This is your mother and I’s house, I don’t care if you’re eighty and walking with a cane, you make curfew”. And then he’d add with a small, sympathetic smile, “for the sake of my aging heart.”

Aegon walked to his truck, and once he closed the door, he stuck the money into a bag and placed it in the glove compartment before speeding down the road, careful not to go too far above the limit. He had no desire to explain to anyone why he had a bag full of so much cash in his car. After several turns, he came to a stop at one of the town’s few intersections. The wet streets glowed with green as he passed the stoplight, and he could see the bookstore flashing with a “closed” sign, and as pulled into the parking lot. Coming to a stop, Aegon spotted the bright red lights of the diner as it flashed from “open” again and again.  

He had just enough time to park before Aemond was walking out of the front door of the diner, his bag hanging off of his shoulder. Aegon leaned over and opened the door, watching as Aemond took his seat in the truck. “Hey. How was work?”, Aegon asked as he put his car in reverse, and pulled back onto the road.

Aemond sighed and leaned his head back on the seat. “Full of people asking dumb questions. You?” he asked, as he crossed his arms, making himself comfortable. Aegon laughed, “Full of people who don’t know how to take care of their cars.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Mhm, very.”

“Did you just get off? I thought that the shop closed up early,” Aemond asked. Aegon shifted in his seat as he turned onto their street, “No, I stayed late and headed to a friend’s house before coming to get you,” Aegon lied.

Aemond nodded his head and looked out of the window for only a moment before turning back to Aegon with a look of hope filling his eyes. Aegon knew exactly what his brother was going to say before the words even left his mouth. “I found a really good program for Automotive Engineering Technology. The community college isn’t too far a drive from here and it’s a really good school. And I found a lot of scholarships for it-”

“Aemond…” Aegon started.

“Just let me show you the website when we get home at least-” Aemond tried.

“Aemond. Please, enough.” Aegon said, turning to look at his brother with a look of pleading. Aemond shook his head in confusion, “Can you…can you at least look at the website? Please?” he said. His tone, the one that he’d always used when they were younger and he had wanted Aegon to play with him, made Aegon sigh and nod his head. Looking at a website couldn’t hurt. He wouldn’t go anyways. The money wasn’t for him. Not anymore.

They pulled into the driveway a minute before their curfew. Aegon made sure that his brother was outside of the car before slipping the cash into his jacket pocket. The two of them raced to the porch, playfully shoving the other to try and get there first. Aegon unlocked the doors with his keys and they both made their way into the dark house. They’re mom, and most of their siblings, were likely asleep. Jace, their cousin, liked to go to sleep early, though Daeron was most likely still up playing a video game.

Aegon could see the light from the kitchen and made his way down the hall. The kitchen was currently covered in flowers from their mom’s plant farm. Since it was so cold, she was keeping the flowering in the several greenhouses that were built there. She liked to bring a lot of them home, and so at the moment, their kitchen looked like a jungle of color.

In the middle of it all, was their dad. He was resting against the counter, coffee in hand, as he watched the football game from the small kitchen TV. Their dad was somehow able to drink coffee at all hours of the day and have no trouble getting to sleep. Aegon guessed that was just how it went, working long hours as the town’s police chief. He turned to look at them and checked his watch. “We were in the house at exactly 11:59,” Aegon said quickly, as he opened a cabinet to get a cup for water for himself, “What’s the score?”

“We should probably stop being Seahawks fans.” Their dad said.

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

Aegon peaked at the score on the screen and winced. It was that bad.

“How was work you two?”, their dad asked as he took a sip from his coffee mug that said “Best Mom” on it.

“Stupid people.” Aegon and Aemond said at the same time. Their dad nodded his head, “Same here. Aem, you should probably get to bed. You’ve got school in the morning.”

Aemond took a glass of water and left the kitchen with a “goodnight” before disappearing down the hall.

“Have you eaten anything, Aeg?” his dad asked. Aegon tried to think about the last time he had eaten that day, but the moment of silence seemed to give his dad the answer he needed, “If you have to think about it, then you should eat. Sit, I’ll get you something.”

Aegon sighed and took a seat at the kitchen table as he watched his dad heat up what they had most likely eaten for dinner that night. Aegon watched the game, the horrible game, and lost track of time until his dad put a plate in front of him and took a seat of his own. Aegon thanked him and began to eat the food. It was his mom’s cooking, and he loved every single bite of it.

She always seemed to make the best food, Helaena coming in a very close second.

When he was done, he took the plate to the sink and rinsed it off. When he turned and leaned against the sink, he caught the questioning look from his dad. “Yeah?” he asked with a quirk of one of his brows. He watched as his dad, the man who he had known since the age of eight, ran his hand down his face with a sigh. He looked stressed, overworked. But Aegon didn’t say anything about the recent murders going on. He knew it would only upset his dad, who had been working late into the night to solve the cases.

Aegon could feel way in which his bones seemed to tighten. He could feel it in his chest, like he couldn’t breathe, but his heart wouldn’t stop doing anything but pump at a quick rate. He could feel it all. All from the words that slipped from his dad’s mouth.

“Aegon… are you sure that you don’t want to at least apply for a couple of schools? The whole… mechanic thing, you can learn that at school. There are grants that we can get, loans-”

“Dad- just… stop. I don’t want you and mom taking out any loans, not for me.” Aegon said. His dad scrunched his brown in confusion. “Not for you? What does that even mean, kid? I would take out a hundred loans for any of you to go to school. You graduated with good grades, Aeg. You can get into a good school. Look, I didn’t go to college… and I just- I just want my children to have that chance. I want to give you all that chance,” his dad said.

Aegon swallowed the bile that threatened to rise within his throat. “Dad… I don’t even want to go anyways,” he told him. That wasn’t true. He did want to. He wanted to play for a team in his school, he wanted to get his degree and make something of himself, support his family. But that wasn’t going to happen. He was getting money for his siblings, for Aemond and Helaena who would be graduating soon. They were both so smart. They deserved to make something of themselves.

“… You don’t want to go to school?” his dad asked in disbelief.

“Not right now at least.”

A wave silence filled the room. The only sound being the game on the TV, the crowd cheering as the other team scored a winning goal. Aegon pushed off of the sink and placed a hand on his dad’s shoulder, “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

His dad placed a hand over his and nodded his head, but before he was able to say anything back, his phone began to ring. Aegon watched as his dad took the call, furrowed his brows with a sigh, and stood from his chair. “Something’s happened. I’ll be back later tonight. I love you.”

Aegon felt his dad kiss the side of his head before swinging on his coat, getting his keys, and walking out the front door. “Let your mom know, please,” he said as he pulled the door shut behind him. His dad had begun to say those words more often. The murders that were recking their town were taking a toll on him. Aegon rubbed his eyes and walked out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

When he made it to his room, he closed the door, locked it, and walked over to his closet. He lifted a few dirty clothes from the floor of the closet and pulled a box towards himself. He lifted the lid and looked at the jars of cash filling the box to the brim. In his coat he pulled out the bag of money, sorted through it, and placed them in the correct jars.

Everything, the box, the drugs, the secrecy… it was for them. All of it. His siblings deserved to go to school. To be able to cover the costs of everything that they would need. He was the older brother. He needed to get them there.

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edited by @sidraofthewildflowers thank you!

[timeoverload]

I am so worn out and emotional. It wasn't the best day. It seemed like things kept going wrong. I felt like I couldn't breathe all day. I didn't even take my full lunch break because I had a pile of stuff waiting for me in decontam. I just had to eat something because I was so hungry. It was a lot busier than I expected it to be and I didn't have any help. The only person that could have helped me went home sick.

The girl who went home was acting erratically when she got to work at noon. I was coming back from lunch and she was banging on the door to our department because she had left her badge at home and needed someone to let her in. She kept doing it after she saw me which was weird because she knows I could badge her in. I let her in but she was acting very strange the entire time she was at work and it was confusing. I feel like she has been a little more aggressive lately. I am concerned about her but it also seems like she doesn't want to be my friend anymore. She is the same girl that invited me fishing last summer but then uninvited me because I didn't have my own kayak and fishing stuff. She is hard to read and I know she has a lot of mental health issues. I believe she told me she had bpd and I know that can make relationships difficult. It still makes me sad because we get along so well sometimes and I enjoy working with her. She told someone that she was going to go work in the basement if a position opened up down there because she wants to work with people who actually respect her. That hurts my heart because I try so hard to be nice to her. I'm not sure how I could have disrespected her because she doesn't communicate. I just told her that I was proud of her a few weeks ago but she didn't think I meant it. I remember training her and I was so patient even though she said some pretty nasty things to me. She got help since then and I thought she was doing better but I'm pretty sure she's drinking and doing a lot of drugs again. She wants to work in the basement with someone she knows can get her what she wants. It's just sad but there's nothing I can do. I feel bad talking about her on here but it has been bothering me all afternoon. I hope she takes care of herself and I will continue to be nice to her. I know she's a good person.

I am glad there hasn't been a lot of drama otherwise. I am getting along with everyone else for the most part. Social interaction is exhausting for me though.

My car seemed to be working better today so that's good. I didn't have to make any stops so that probably helped too. I suppose if I can make it through the next couple days, I will try to drive to my appointment on Friday. I am still very nervous about it so hopefully I make it. I should probably try to go to the store tomorrow just in case.

I also remembered earlier that I haven't done my taxes yet so I need to do that this weekend. I'm not looking forward to that but I know it shouldn't take that long. I usually try to get them done sooner but I guess I have been worried about other things so I forgot about it. I wish I didn't have so much to do at home.

Anyway I am exhausted and I can't think anymore. I'm not that hungry but I ate a lot earlier. Someone also brought cookies so I had some of those. Normally I don't eat a lot of sweets at work but I have been craving a lot of sugar. I have been drinking more sugar free drinks now so I think my blood sugar is too low sometimes. I'm not sure because I don't have a way to check my blood sugar. I know I'm not diabetic but a lot of people in my family are so I worry about that.

I don't have much else to say. I am going to get ready for bed and relax now. I need to go to sleep early I think. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too. :) 💖💖💖

[besthimbomachine]

I want your commentary on a section of one of your fics, or a whole fic, that you've been DYING to get your thoughts out on. 😊

I hope you've been having a good day, and wanted to get this in before I go to bed glrbfj.

Owwwn thank you sweetheart <3

Btw I got this ask for the Directors Commentary thing AND another one for that too by an anon, nonnie I'm gonna save yours until chapter 4 is done cause I'll for SURE have things to talk about chapter 4 too. I fought through the pure angst of chapters 1 and 2 to get to the other ones which will have more funny, fluffy and horny things which I love writing. Chapter 3 already starts that off with the horny.

Anyways into the commentary proper, I did a bunch of parts of chapter 3 cause I really liked writing it.

I guess first I wanna comment in the fic as a whole. If anyone doesn't know, the title "my love when it counted" comes from the hozier song shrike. If you haven't listened to it, go and look it up, it's great and very much the vibe of this fic.

Anyways, this fic came not from a prompt or situation I found hot as most of mine do but from a feeling. Like, we know Kenny talked about thinking of retiring due to his injuries and we've been getting the vibe, esp after this week's show but also on his feud with Osprey, that he has been feeling the years. That he knows time has started to take it's toll on him. And I myself have been kinda going through my own crisis cause I'm reaching thirty, and as someone who only fell in tune with my own skin after I was 25, the dawning of my youth scares me.

So a heavy theme of this fic is time, how it changes you, in some ways it's bad, in some ways it's good, but it changes you. It has the power to change you so thoroughly that you become a stranger to your past self. So this is a story about the inexorable march of time and the changes it forces on you, and how sometimes you can be the right person at the wrong time. It's also about learning to live with your mistakes and putting in the work to fix things.

Also, every chapter has a working title so I can tell from one look at my Google docs what it's gonna be about, this one was "down memory lane hard".

Chapter parts will be under the read more

That was the box Kenny had dumped any photo with you in, to never be seen again. Shit, he didn’t even know he still had that. He was supposed to have thrown it away, but he never did quite get up the courage to do so. Looking at them now, he could feel the bitter sweet pang of nostalgia, the way it tasted like ashes in his mouth. Swallowing thickly, he stacked the photos together in the box again. That’s when he noticed something else, the black metal previously hidden by the scattered papers shining back at him. (Kenny made the big mistake of giving himself time to doubt instead of just throwing things out right away, big mistake buddy. Nostalgia is a drug, and also a liar, rarely the past is quite as good as it makes you think. Anyways, this is not the last we will hear from the nostalgia box, it still holds something else we haven’t heard about yet.)

For the most part, the camera seemed ok, and it sparked in Kenny a curiosity that he knew he shouldn’t feed. Whatever pictures it held, he knew they would do him no good right now. He knew he should just put it back in the box and leave it be. But he couldn’t resist as his finger pushed the power button, body moving on its own, ignoring all common sense. All he could do was hope the thing just would not turn on. (These three first chapters are just a long stretch of Kenny making bad decisions, some he really thinks would work out - like pretending you are strangers instead of trying to behave normally - and others he really know wouldn’t work out and still he does. At this point he is doing this almost as a type of self flagellation, he knows it will only hurt but it feels better to have the pain than nothing at all)

But of course it did. (hello ominous one liner in italic my old friend)

When Kenny finally made his way to the old photos, the first thing he was greeted with was his own face. Those same baby blues staring back at him, although a good few wrinkles less and many years younger. (references to how he feels about his age are actually important but hey kenny time did you good, you look better now) He had a smile on his face, features framed by the ropes as he sat on the floor of the ring. Behind him, he could see the silhouettes of Matt and Nick facing the vast empty arena, only a few more blurred forms dotted in the background. 

Sighing deeply, Kenny moved on to the older photos. Passing through pictures of him, Matt and Nick preparing in the ring, as well as pictures of you getting ready or climbing on the ropes. There was one video from that day that had you and Kenny dancing around the ring, and for the second time now he felt his heart shatter as his memory failed him. He made through the pictures of the four of you, but nothing moved his mind, the memories truly lost to time. (Time and how it changes people is at the core of this fics theme yes and the first thing time goes for in a person is their memories, the human mind is actually very bad at remembering things and sometimes that’s great but other times it’s depressing.)

Biting his lower lip, Kenny laid back against the headboard, finger pressing the button again, but the picture meeting him this time being completely different. The photo had been taken in front of a large mirror outside a building, and standing in the frame were the two of you. He had an umbrella in hand, and you had the camera covering half of your face as you looked through the viewfinder. (Go ahead and imagine the most Wes Anderson looking ass picture, that’s what I was going for, and yes I do deserve to get sent to the content gulag for my hipster crimes)

Sighing again, Kenny flipped through the photos rapidly before stopping when he noticed a change in environment. The picture he’d stopped in was of you, looking away from the camera with your hair tied up, water covering your bare chest all the way above the breasts. He paused, studying the environment, the stone walls and hazy fog circling you were hard to mistake. You two were at an onsen, by the size of it a private one, probably from whichever place you were staying at. (Hello darkness my old friend, like I said, I would have a hard time getting into an onsen cause the japanese still connect tattoos to criminal behavior and I’m covered in tattos but I’ve never commited a crime [Maria has in fact commited multiple minor crimes ranging from drug possession, to showin her tits in public, to having sex in a public-ish place, to stealing from a supermarket to the worst of all,multiple accounts of  piracy])

Kenny’s eyes trailed the exposed skin on the back of your neck, eyes following the curve of your spine as it delved underwater. He felt his chest tighten again, you were so gorgeous, if he closed his eyes he could almost feel your soft skin on his fingertips. The next picture had you laughing, waving one hand at the camera as if trying to shoo him away. Your movement - and the surrounding fog - made the photo blurry, but he could still see your exposed chest. Warm water spilled down the inside of your breasts, kissing your skin in ways he could only have in his dreams now.

Moving on to the next photo, Kenny felt the air hitching in his throat as his eyes met with your own, large and entrancing in a way that he never found again after he lost you. Your beautiful irises stared back at him through the screen, keeping him locked in place for a good moment as he felt himself dragged to the bottom of a lake. And for a second there, he really didn’t want to resurface. (Kenny is longing to the point of self destruction, poor guy, but like I said I like to write my man a little pathetic, take him down a notch, make him suffer for his crimes and have to work to get the girl)

When he finally remembered to breathe, Kenny fully took in the image. You stared straight ahead, deep sultry eyes locked with the lens as his hand touched your face. One of your hands held his own, your lips touching his knuckles and the back of his fingers in a soft kiss. Water droplets ran down the curve of your breasts, with the way you were sitting the water just about touched your chest, not fully reaching your nipples. God, you looked like something out of this world, like a siren ready to drag him underwater, a lure he’d never deny. (If he won’t let you do like a siren and drag him to the bottom of a lake to kill him, does he really love you?)

Blood rushed to Kenny’s face and in a moment his breathing became hard, air evading him for a long second. It was almost like he’d forgotten just how gorgeous you could be. His fragile memory - and his most shameful dreams - not doing justice to a sight he once had so freely that he didn’t fully value. He was young and stupid, and you were too beautiful for him to understand - and fuck, from what he saw in the ring you’d only gotten better. (Gotta make sure to remind yall that we are romanticizing aging in this house, you look better in your early thrities than you did in your early twenties!!!)

It did him no good. (Ominous one liner here again to remind Kenny that he should have just turned off the camera)

Watching the scene in the camera had Kenny groaning, extending his legs out in the bed, free hand coming to rest on top of the bulge now formed in his pants. He watched the image of you continue to tease him on the screen, licking his swollen head as you made eye contact with the lens. Muttering curses, his eyes followed the movements of your tongue, his fingers caressing his large bulge over the fabric of his pants. Just the sight of your lips surrounding the head of his cock being enough to have him fully hard. (One hard thing about this chapter was making it clear what was happening on the screen and what was happenning in current time you know, I wanted to make it clear enough so that things wouldn’t be too confusing. Anyways, love writing handjobs and blowjobs, this short smut gave me both, I should have expanded on it but I was tired already.)

Shit, he knew he shouldn’t be watching this. Let alone taking his pleasure from it.  It felt wrong, but he didn’t really wanna think about that right now. Kenny only barely remembered filming this video, let alone that it still existed somewhere. He brushed against it again by pure chance, it was not like a premeditated thing. 

Fuck, he missed you in more ways than he’d want to admit, and he didn’t want to deny his body’s desire. He didn’t want to deny the way seeing you in the ring had his mind reeling. The way hearing your voice in the backstage halls sent shivers down his spine. He knew it was wrong, but for a single moment he chose to give in to the desire burning deep inside his core. (We get a ‘I know it’s wrong but fuck it’ moment. Was it wrong of him? Yeah, kinda. But as someone who has been friends with people attracted to me and has artistic nudes floating somewhere in the internet, my personal belief is you can jerk off to a picture of me whatever so long as you treat me like a normal human being I don’t care)

Pulling the waistband of his pants down, Kenny released his throbbing cock. Veins popping around the thick shaft and sensitive head, his fingers sliding around it lazily. (thick and veiny is my favorite) He watched as you started slowly moving your head up and down on the screen, each time taking more of his shaft inside your mouth. Groaning, he cursed the lack of audio on the camera, wanting nothing more than to hear the delicious sounds he knew you’d be making. Kenny’s large hand wrapping tight around his length, fingers barely meeting as he pumped himself slowly. (One way I like to give the idea of dick size in smut instead of using the extremely vague and relative ‘it’s huge’ or the waaaay to specific and not sexy at all ‘X inches’ is to compare it to other things, writing blowjobs and handjobs is good for that. I mean, you know how large Kenny’s hands are, if his fingers can barely touch when he warps his hand around his cock, you know it’s BIG)

Kenny took in a sharp breath as he saw your lips getting close to the base of his cock, the camera shaking in his hands as a shiver coursed through his body, setting every nerve alight. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath before looking down again, watching you with darkened eyes. Taking his hand from his cock for a second, Kenny spat on his palm before he went back to fisting his length, fingers now picking up speed. (Spit is not good as lube I know, but it gives a raw sense of desperation that I find sexy for blowjob scenes)

Darkened eyes followed your movements as you bobbed your head a few more times, from tip all the way down, until your lips finally reached the base. The image shook a little before it steadied again. Kenny could almost feel the sensations, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat, the wet warmth of your mouth stretching around his dick. He’d never forget that feeling, sinful and holy, pleasure bordering on pain. (Deep throat! Deep throat! A girl got a well trained gag reflex, kudos. Also, I know it’s cheap using a pleasure/pain comparison but I like it, I do.)

You continued your sucking on screen, and oh, what wouldn’t Kenny give to hear the noises. He groaned, trying to conjure them in his head as he fisted himself faster now, one hand almost not enough to satisfy his full length. Pre cum dripped from his swollen head, onto his fingers and down his veiny cock, making his movements easier and faster. His erection throbbing in his hand, feeling hot and heavy against his rough palm. (I love this whole paragraph, man. It’s cause Kenny has those hug beautiful hands with long thick fingers. Imining that pumping a big fat cock has me way too horny. I’m a sucker for nice hands.)

You locked eyes with the camera once again, and Kenny could see his hips bucking forward in the video. The hand in your hair stuttering in its pace as your tongue slipped out of your mouth and under his cock. Shit, just seeing that had him delirious, spilling praises out of his lips that he knew you’d never hear. (Gotta slip at least a little ‘alas, poor kenny’ moment in the middle of this horny mess) He imagined the feeling of your mouth, the warmth of your tongue all around him. Deft fists pumped up and down at a voracious speed, his cock heavy and slick in his hands, balls feeling full and tight.

In the screen, his hips bucked erratically now, not even caring if he was bringing your head all the way down or not. Your lips looked wet and abused as they stretched around his girth, moving up and down fast. Pulling your head all the way to his tip, Kenny’s hand moved to your lip, pulling your open mouth towards the camera before coming back to his own cock. He fisted himself a couple times, resting the head of his cock on your tongue as his thick length twitched. Rope after rope of his thick white cum spilled past your plump lips, filling your mouth with it. (I regret now not thinkin gof using the word flooding instead of filling, it would be sexier, but also I find the ‘cumming on someones open mouth so you can watch it’ thing very sexy)

Kenny pumped his hand faster and harder, feeling the coil in his gut snap as he watched you close your pretty mouth, swallowing all of his hot cum, tongue darting out to lick some that had slipped down your lip. He felt his orgasm hit like a truck, shutting his eyes as the intensity of the feeling had him seeing stars. With a grunt, his cock spasmed in his hand, shooting his cum like a torrent. Multiple white, thick ropes spilling from his cock, feeling hot as they poured on his exposed thighs and hips, staining his shirt where they fell on the fabric. 

Kenny rode his orgasm for what felt like forever, ecstasy completely clouding his mind. When he finally came to, eyes opening to see his still hard cock twitching slowly. Pearly white of cum painted his fingers, a string of it coming from the head and connecting to his hips. He swiped his thumb over his still sensitive head, spreading his thick white jizz over the tip. He was breathing hard, and it still took him a moment to fully return from his high. (I have a cum kink, send me to the nasty jail cause I’m gonna write guys who cum a lot and also guys whose cum is thick, you know I’m really horny for a character if I give him both traits, I like the image of a throbbing cock too, just *chefs kiss*, once again, loved writing these two paragraphs. Press F for Kenny’s shirt tho, depending on the fabric this is gonna be hard to clean.)

Looking at the mess he’d made, Kenny felt that pang of guilt back in his chest. Shit, he shouldn’t have done that. Pushing his cock back into his pants, he cleaned his hand in his already stained shirt before sitting straight against the headboard, the full weight of his guilt crashing down. He ran his hand through his hair, lips feeling dry as he swallowed hard.

He really shouldn’t have done that. If Kenny had felt bad after your recent fight, he felt even worse now. Like a sleazy, cowardly excuse of a man. One who was too weak to let go and too harsh to fix things. Worse, he felt like he had slipped back into the self centered asshole you’d left all those years back. Shit, this wasn’t who he wanted to be, and it made him sick to the stomach. He looked back to the camera, the video had already ended, the final image being your smiling face. (like I described this chapter once: Kenny’s very bad no good at all post nut clarity)

With a quick push of the buttons, Kenny deleted the video, erasing it from existence like he had done with the others after your break up. This was the right thing, and if he had known about this camera, known about this video, he’d have done it a long time ago. Now it was done, still he felt like shit. And there wasn’t really any way to erase that taste of guilt from his mouth. (We finish with Kenny doing the correct thing and also showing that he was an asshole but not a completly awful person, he did have the mind to at least do the minimally decent thing of erasing the sex videos he knew he had - he may or may not have jerked off to them before that just as he may or may not have jerked off to videos of reader’s matches - and this one he is erasing now. Like I said he will get the chance to straighten up his act and make some better choices, I don’t wanna end this in angst no happy ending)

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader

As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.

Anyway!

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.

I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.

Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 7816 (!)

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.

Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.

You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.

What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.

So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.

You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.

At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.

You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.

You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.

Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.

You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.

You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.

At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.

When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.

The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.

You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.

You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.

For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.

By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.

"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.

When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.

At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.

However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.

As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.

A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.

You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.

You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.

When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.

You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?

You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.

Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.

“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…

“It was just for sport,” she tried again.

You snorted in annoyance.

“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”

As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.

You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.

“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.

“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.

You walked into the house with Bella.

“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.

“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.

“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.

While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.

“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.

“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.

It was your turn to roll the eyes.

“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”

Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.

Alice took no notice of you.

"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."

You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.

"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.

"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.

You grabbed her hand.

"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.

"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."

You snorted in disbelief.

"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.

“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.

“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.

You looked at Bella expectantly.

“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”

You heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.

After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.

“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.

“But Alice...” protested Bella.

“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.

“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.

“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.

When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?

One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.

⋎⋎⋎

On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.

“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.

Alice let out a sigh.

“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”

If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.

“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.

Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.

“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.

“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.

"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.

Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.

"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”

You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.

⋎⋎⋎

This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?

You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!

“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.

Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:

“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”

He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.

“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.

Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.

“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.

Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.

When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.

You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.

“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.

When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.

“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.

As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.

“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”

You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.

“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.

Aro smiled to Edward.

“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.

“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.

You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.

“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.

“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.

You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.

“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.

“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.

Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.

"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.

"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.

Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.

“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.

“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.

“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.

Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.

"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”

The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.

“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.

You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.

Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.

"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.

Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.

"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.

"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?

“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.

“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.

“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”

“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”

You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.

Aro was smiling continuously.

“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”

You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.

“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.

Aro turned directly to Edward.

“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.

She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.

“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.

“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.

You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.

“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.

Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.

What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.

"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.

"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.

“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.

“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.

You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.

“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”

Bella looked devastated.

“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.

“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.

After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.

They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.

You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.

"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."

You took his arm gratefully.

"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.

Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.

"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.

"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.

Part 2 | Part 3

[mypoisonedvine]

A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

happy birthday @nsfwsebbie​!!

it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though!  I hope the suspense pays off.  

idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right??  the other half of the fun is the obvious thing.  and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday.  and i hope it makes you h word lmao.  ily darling <3

warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.

word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)

Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you.  It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had.  Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.

“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.

“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile.  God, he loved when you called him that.  He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways.  “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones.  I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”

“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.

“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled.  He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it.  That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide.  Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.

“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good.  A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.

“If you say so.”

“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.

“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.

“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed.  “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch.  Is there anything else going on?”

He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it.  “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”

“Nightmares?” you pressed.  “Or general insomnia?”

“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal.  The meds helped.  Just… I still get them sometimes.”

“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked.  But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion.  That was what really made his heart melt.

“Probably 2 or 3.”

“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good.  That’s progress.  But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks.  You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”

He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.

“Bucky!” you scolded playfully.  “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay?  I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it.  Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”

He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all.  But he’d stay on them if it made you happy.

“Anything else?  Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”

He laughed and shook his head.  “No, I think that’s everything.”

“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.”  You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs.  “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”

He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”

He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal.  Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.  

“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.  

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.  

Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore.  Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.

~

The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell.  It didn’t smell like your room.  Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.

You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in.  The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.  

It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost.  There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either.  Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.

You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”

As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right.  He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused.  And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.

“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately.  Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.

You didn’t exactly believe that.  

“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.

“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”

Your heart sank straight through your stomach.  You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.”  You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.

“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine.  I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore.  You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore.  “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough.  Couldn��t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”

You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing.  “This is insane.  This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”

“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”

“See?  That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills.  “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know.  But you couldn’t.  And now you don’t have to.”

You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation.  You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.

You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly.  He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.

“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed.  You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine.  “This all for me?  Do you like being tied up?”

You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.

“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”

It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though.  You nodded.

“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.

“N-no,” you answered.

“Answer honestly,” he specified.

You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”

“That’s it?” he pressed.  “It’s not me being here, is it?  You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”

This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.  It seemed like there was no right answer.

“Didja ever get wet for somebody else?  It was Steve, wasn’t it?”

“No!” you instinctively answered.  “Um, I like Steve.  But just as a friend.”

“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type.  Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend?  I think you were lying then too, doll.  You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced.  “I’m getting irritated.”

You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.

“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts.  “Sass does not.”

You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too.  Soothed the burn a bit, at least.

“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…”  You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes.  “Baby, are you a virgin?”

You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth.  In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.

“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned.  “You really are too good to be true.”

A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.  

“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed.  “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then why did you tie me up?”

“That’s for your safety, baby.  I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.

A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second.  You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy.  His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!

“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted.  You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern.  “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry.  Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

That word made you feel a little sick.  No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.

Then again, it was Bucky Barnes.  He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes.  You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.  

His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much.  You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.

“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged.  “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.  I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”

You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”

Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life.  You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.  

Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.

“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”

“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples.  The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.

“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it.  Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”

“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”

“And now we’re both getting what we want.  I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours.  Doesn’t it feel good baby?  Admit it.  Tell me it feels good.”

You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made.  He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react.  One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.

“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it.  I just need you to say it.”

One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses.  “It feels good!” you exclaimed.  You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked.  “Say it again.”

“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.

He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile.  “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.  

“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore.  My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that.  You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”

You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful.  You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.

“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.

“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”

He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Of course he was big.  It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.

“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly.  He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.  

“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me.  Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”

You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing.  A little of both, perhaps.

He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds.  You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’  This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.

“Ready for me, baby?  Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability.  Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”

“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned.  “This is it, okay?  Us.  Just us.  Nobody else to get in the way.  You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”

“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”

“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled.  “Stop fighting.  You’re mine.  You’re finally where you belong.”

“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”

“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen.  “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again.  If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”

“You need intensive psychiatric care!”

Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.

“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle.  I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”

Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.

“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”

Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed.  You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid.  It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot.  You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.

“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.

“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him.  “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”

But he was long gone.  The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief.  Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.

Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water.  You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.

It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him.  You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.

Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.

He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you.  You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.

“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done.  You were behaving so poorly.  I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.  

When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan.  He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.

“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours.  “Are you going to be good, little girl?”

You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply.  You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was.  You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.  

“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek.  You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you.  He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar.  It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like.  He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes.  “Kiss me back,” he demanded.  This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate.  You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.

You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race.  One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.  

As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.

Physically, it wasn’t painful.  The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit.  And yet, even without pain it was so much.  You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.  

When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were.  But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.  

“Fuck!” you yelped.  You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.  

“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe.  “You promised to be good, remember?”

The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.  

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged.  “It’s okay to come, baby.  I know how bad you wanna come for me.”

You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long.  You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too.  Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.  

“Are you close?  I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you?  Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”

Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”

Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak.  You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.

“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled.  “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”

You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way.  This is what you had wanted, right?  Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?

“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”

“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged.  “Come, princess.  I wantcha to scream for me.”

As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name.  His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind.  He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.  

You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.

“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl.  You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”

You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.

“I’m gonna untie you now, okay?  Promise you won’t kick me or anything?” 

You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied.  “You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle.  The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots.  You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands.  It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous.  ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’  

~

Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week.  Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times.  He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise.  You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it.  Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere.  When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.  

“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained.  “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves.  Nobody for miles.”

“How many miles?”

He chuckled a bit to himself.  “Baby, it’s a really big number.  You’re too little to understand.”

Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up.  Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.

“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet.  I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.

“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.  

“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.

“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils?  Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump.  “Don’t talk back to me.”  

“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”

“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened.  That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet.  “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”

“I’m hungry,” you denied.  “Please, I want to eat.”

“And I want to eat with you.  But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll.  Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”

“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed.  He smiled and sat down across from you.  You were learning.  Slowly, but surely.

Bath time was always a fight, though.  You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.

“I can do it myself!”

“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”

“I want to.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”

“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?” “No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you.  Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart.  He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.

“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him.  “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed.  “I just want to take a shower, alone.”

“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced.  “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”

Your shoulders slumped as you nodded.  He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin.  He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you.  It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.  

He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time.  Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.

He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful.  He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing.  A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.

“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay?  I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.  

“Really?” your face instantly lit up.  Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control.  Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.

“Of course.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.

He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.    

You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.

"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him.  Oh, right.  You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you.  Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it.  After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you.  You just needed clothes to match.

“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.

“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration.  “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”

You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him.  He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.

“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.

Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat.  Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.

He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable.  A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.  

Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.

“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.

“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.

“Do you want the clothes?” 

“Shut up.”

He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.

It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.

~

This fucker was smart, you’d give him that.  Or maybe it was just that you were stupid.  Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation.  Why had you chosen this hill to die on?  You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all.  You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes.  Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.

Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself.  You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before.  You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt.  You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?

“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.

“Hm?”

“I want… I want the c-clothes.”

He smiled a little, in an insulting way.  “Ask nicely, doll.”

“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up.  You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.  

He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them.  He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump.  He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt.  It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows.  You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him.  You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.

You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow.  It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now.  He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.  

“Is this better?  Are you warmer?”

“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.  

“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment.  You felt colder with him gone.  It couldn’t be loneliness, could it?  Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.

He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet.  You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.

“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms.  You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.

You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist.  Then your hip, then your thigh.

Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.

You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.

You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh.  You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.

“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.

“Where, baby?”

“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.

“You need Daddy’s help?”

“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.

In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.

You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop.  It felt so good.  It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.  

He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck.  If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers.  He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.  

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.  

“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered.  You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.

Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.

“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock.  “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded.  He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you.  Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down.  You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.

“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”

“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”

“But--” 

He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.

All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.

“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.

“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered.  “I’ll do anything.  I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”

With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow.  Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.  

“Anything?  You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”

“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged.  Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.

He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite.  “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.”  You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.

“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.

“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”

You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be.  Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.

When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine.  “I know what I want you to do for me.”

You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes.  It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked.  Of course that was what he wanted.  But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him.  He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.  He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.

“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”

“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”

“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face. 

“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you.  Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.

He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little.  When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed.  “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”

“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek.  He wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be.  You’re finally where you belong, with me.”

You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening.  Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long.  You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you.  For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved.  The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before.  As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.

~

He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time.  But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring.  At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming.  And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.

He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not.  It was sort of a win-win either way for him.  He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up.  Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.

“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room.  This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.

One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver.  He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin.  Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.

Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you.  If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you.  Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.

“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.

He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him.  “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.  

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.

“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.

“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you?  It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”

He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you.  He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.

“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not.  “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”

“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.

“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.  

“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted.  A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that.  Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away.  Both of you knew that.  So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat.  What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.

“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.

“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.

He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear.  “Was he fucking you?”

You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on.  He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit.  “Be honest, darling.”

“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”

As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that.  Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.

“Is that what you want, huh?  One cock isn’t good enough for you?  Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”

“‘M not!” you denied.

“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you?  Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you.  That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”

You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there.  You sounded like heaven.  He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion.  You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.  

“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you?  Of course you do.  ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”

“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it.  Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”

“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”

“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”

“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come!  It feels so good, please…”

“Keep going.”

“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”

“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”

He knew you were flustered by that.

“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.

“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned.  “Just how I said it.”

“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”

You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to.  He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.

“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.

Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky.  Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off.  He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.

~

You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails.  But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.

“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse.  It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too.  Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.

They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest.  You admired them a little, as they dried.  It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood.  The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone. 

“What do you say?” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled.  “It looks nice.”

“You’re welcome, angel.  I think so too.  We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”

You swallowed.  You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.

Next was your hair.  Pigtails, the way he always did it.  You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role.  He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about.  In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.

After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly.  You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.

“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently.  “Barely fit around it.”

“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.

“You flatter me,” he grinned.  “Do it some more.”

You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him.  “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”

“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.

“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”

He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.

“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to.  “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”

He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.

“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled.  “Do I need to wash it out with soap?” 

You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much.  His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming.  The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.  

He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead.  “I can tell you’re worked up.  Go ahead, touch yourself.”

You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.   

You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive.  You hadn't realized how turned on you really were.  Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well.  You nodded quickly.  "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one.  Beg me for it."

"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please.  Wanna be covered in it."

"You're not a good liar," he grinned.  "I know you really want me to fuck you."

He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.

"You poor thing," he cooed.  "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."

His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.

"You're getting close, aren't you?  Wait until I'm ready," he ordered.  You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.  

He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably.  You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.

"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face.  "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"

You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes.  Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.  

When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.

"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."

A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.  

"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.

Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.

~

He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter.  Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.  

Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working.  He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold.  You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night.  He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much…  you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could.  However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours.  As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room.  At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you.  His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?

But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs.  You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.

“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.

“I-- I was just--”

He cut you off with a quick slap to the face.  Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.

“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission.  Did you forget?”

“No…” you murmured ashamedly.

“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

“I… I just missed you…”

“Why didn’t you call me for help?  I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”

“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit.  “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself.  Did you come without me?”

You looked away.

“Don’t bother lying.  Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”

“Yes…” 

You were hiding something.  He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.

“Was it more than once?”

You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly.  He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of.  “Answer me.”

“I was thinking about… being fucked…”

“By who?” he asked.  You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off.  “Don’t lie.”

You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper.  “What was that?” he pressed.

“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”

He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.  

“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly.  You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.  

He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little.  He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry.  But he needed to nip this in the bud.

He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered.  Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain.  You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.

“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock.  He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.

As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.  

“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly.  Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips.  He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.

As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again.  He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek.  He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.

“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.

Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well.  He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.

The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that.  It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly.  “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.”  And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.

He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.  

“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat.  You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”

He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”

He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.  

He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey.  He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it.  Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.

When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve.  You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.

He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.

“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged.  “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He wagged his finger disapprovingly.  “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.

“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear.  “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock.  Isn’t that right?”

You nodded with a gasp.

“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you?  Say it," he hissed in demand.

“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.

“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”

You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience.  You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you.  As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.

You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.

“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.

“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”

One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped.  “D-daddy, not there!”

“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.

“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained.  “I know what you can handle, doll.”

“And I can handle this?”

“I never said that.”

And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.

“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.  

“It hurts!” you sobbed.

“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it.  This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”

You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic.  “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize.  Right now you just need to be quiet.  Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”

“Y-yes.”

He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.  

“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.

“You wanna get it over with?  Don’t like it?”

You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.

“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll.  Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”

You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock.  He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.

“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed.  “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”

He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm.  Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust.  Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way.  It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.

“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised.  “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”

Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were.  “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched.  You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice.  He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too.  He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him.  You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.

The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back.  You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.

His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.

But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore.  His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.

“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed.  “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you!  I only want you, I swear!”

“You sure, baby?  You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked.  Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did.  Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.

“I’m sure!  I only want you, please!  Please, please come.”

“Is that what you want, angel?  Want me to come in your tight little ass?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please…?”

“Please, Daddy.”

And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night.  You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.

You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.  

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss.  “You did good, baby.  You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever.  You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”

~

Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:

Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon.  When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.

You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband.  The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it.  The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back.  On the back of the tag was another engraving:

IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES

You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.

Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for.  You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).

He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.

“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.

Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward.  You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.  “This is stupid.  I feel stupid.”

“You are stupid," he smiled.  "But you look great!  Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”

Your eyes went wide.

“You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer.  You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly.  When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass.  It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.

“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised.  “And the ears… you’re a natural.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.

"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed.  You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.

When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was.  Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.

"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.

You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned.  “Just like that, fuck.”

You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue.  You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently.  Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.  

He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.

You shook your head.  

He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond.  “Where do you want it?” 

“In my pussy.”

“Full sentences only, please.”

“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled.  “But I have something else to do first.  Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”

You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again.  As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin.  You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds.  Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.

"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.

"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes.  Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm.  You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.

That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.

He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.

“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him.  The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it.  You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you.  You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away.  You’re gonna take all of me.”

“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.

“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained.  “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”

You nodded and he eased up his grip.  You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again.  You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time.  You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.

You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.

"Oh kitty, are you too weak?  Too wimpy and small to ride my cock?  Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted.  "I'm just tired…"

"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay?  I know you can do it.  I know you can be a good girl."

You hoped he was right.  You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.

Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you.  Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck.  When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.

“Only bad kittens bite, doll.  I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”

“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby.  Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come.  That what you want?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”

He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls.  Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you. 

As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly.  "You really are perfect, pet."

"C-can I take off the ears now?  And the tail?"

"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."

~

He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in here!" he ordered you.  "Wait for me at the dining table."

"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall.  He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.

"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained.  "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.

Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.

He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction.  Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.   "Um, I made it myself.  Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"

"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed.  "What's the occasion?"

"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well.  The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant.  He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.

"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.

"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."

The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.

"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."

He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise.  And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.

So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch.  He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.

God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.

"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly.  He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.

"Are you horny, babygirl?  Because you're acting like a whore."

You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.

"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.

"Yes, please!" you begged.

He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.

“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.

“Want me to knock you up, doll?  Right now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face  “I don’t want it to be like the other times.  None of the crazy shit, nothing rough.  If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”

“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.

He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow.  “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.  

“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.

He was gentle, and thorough, and patient.  It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him.  He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.

My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.

You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.  

The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds.  The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him.  The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.

“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”

He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close.  You feel so good.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.

“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.

He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.

“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”

“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”

“Not until you come one more time,” he responded.  You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible.  “I know you can, just gimme one more.”

His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone.  Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall.  He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.

“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close.  Just let go.  I’ve got you.”

Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence.  He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.  

"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before.  Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense.  Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day.  But now?  Now it was the beginning of something.  His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby.  He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.  

He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.

He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children.  He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.

You were well worth the wait.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Stay pt. 2

Summary: An unknown killer has been abducting local girls but somehow you managed to escape but you are still scarred to be alone. You are now safe in Easttown where you meet Colin Zabel a detective who is helping Mare with your case. When he finds out you have no where to stay he offers to let you stay with him. Little does he know where this offer will lead, and in the end you both end up finding comfort in one another.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, restraint, angst, there us fluff sprinkled throughout it

Word Count: 2879

“What if she stays with me?” Mare whipped her head up to look at him and Harriet did the same. He looked at them, his head tilted slightly to the side. “What?” 

Mare gave him a hard look as if willing him to understand what about what he had said was wrong. 

“What?” He asked again.

 “Really? You think she should stay with you?”

“Yea.” 

“Are you stupid?” At this point Harriet was glaring at him as well. 

He gave a shrug, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I mean I know I’m not the ideal person to take her in, Harriet is the best candidate. “She nodded her head at this. “But I'm a detective and I have training, I can protect her.

“Zabel.” Mare said slowly as if willing him to understand. “You want the girl who was abducted and assaulted by a male killer to stay with you, a man.”

 Colin’s eyes widened at the realization. “Oh okay I get why you guys were so concerned. But no I’m not offering her to stay with me alone I’m offering for her too. Wait.” He said taking a deep breath trying to clear the awkwardness but only making it worse. He took a deep breath and started again.” Look, I live with my mom.” Mare raised an eyebrow at this but she was in no position to judge him. “She could come stay with me and my mom. There would be a woman present at all times and an older woman at that. She might provide some motherly comfort to (y/n). My mom is also retired so she’ll be able to look after her like all day while I’m at work. And I’ll be there too and can prove protection if it comes to that.” Colin let out a breath of relief after fully explaining his intentions. 

Mare and Harriet glanced at one another. “That’s actually a good idea Zabel.” He smiled at Mare’s compliment. “If she doesn't want to stay alone at her apartment she can stay with you if she feels comfortable with it.” 

Mare stood up making her way to the door. “I’ll go and explain everything to her and let you know what she says.” Mare excused herself from their office and made her way towards you. She nodded at you as she sat down on the bench, making sure to keep her distance. “Hey so we know you have your apartment and if you want we are more than willing to drive you there, and we’ll have eyes on the surveillance to make sure no one bothers you.” You nodded your head at her proposal, a seed of dread still sitting in your stomach. You really didn't want to go back and be all alone. “Is there any way I can stay with you or Harriet?” You asked meekly. 

Mare gave you a tight smile and shook her head with a no. “Sorry.”

You sighed. “That's okay.”

“There is another option.” Your head whipped up, you were ready to accept whatever it would be if it meant you wouldn't be alone. “If you want you can stay with Detective Zabel.” You felt yourself heat up at the offer, that was the last thing you had expected Mare to say. 

You leaned to the side and looked past Mare towards Colin. He was working on something but when he saw you looking he gave you a wave and a smile. “You can stay with him and his mother.” You looked at her with wide eyes not believing her offer. 

“I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“You won’t be. And honestly we would feel much better if you were staying with someone we know.” 

You bit your lips weighing your options. On one hand you really didn't want to be alone right now. But you also didn't want to inconvenience Colin. You looked up at him again, he looked like he would be able to protect you if anything happened, he was the most obvious choice. You were still a little hesitant about staying with him because a part of you wanted to do it for a more selfish reason. He was so nice to you and the way he talked to you brought you a comfort you hadn't felt in a long while. And he was cute, you chided yourself for thinking it but it burned in the back of your mind. You sighed already knowing which option you were going to pick.“Okay.” 

Mare gave you a soft smile. “Okay I’ll tell him.” 

Mare got up to leave but she stopped herself glancing around the room. It seemed Harriet had left to go back to her department floor. Mare knew that she had told her that they should wait to interview you till later but she really needed to talk with you and see what you knew. Sh turne dback to face you and you gave her a curious look. “Hey, would you mind answering a couple questions.”

“About the case?” 

“It’s okay if you-”

“Yeah of course.” Mare was a little taken aback at your response. She was expecting you to try and push it back but there was this hardness in your eyes. You hated that man more than anything in the world, you wanted to do anything you could to get justice for the girls he had killed. You got up and followed Mare into the interrogation room, she called Colin to come in and he sat beside her on the other side of the table. You avoided their piercing gazes and stared down at your lap, playing with your hands. Mare’s voice made you look back up.

“So you were only missing for about two weeks, correct.” 

“Yes but it felt like longer.” You watched Colin as he scribbled down your answer to what Mare had asked you. “He um he approached me late at night. I was walking home from work, my car was being repaired. It was a Tuesday I think.” You furrowed your brows as you tried to recall the exact details of what had happened on the night of your abduction. 

Colin looked at the way your face scrunched up and set his pen down. “We can do this later if you’d like.”

“No, I want to do this now.” You said with a harsh tone. “Sorry, it’s just I want to help you guys anyway I can.” Colin nodded and picked his pen back up. “It was tuesday and I had to work late so I didn't walk home with my friends like I usually do. I was walking home and this guy jumped me near the alley.”

“Do you remember anything about him?” Mare asked.

“Yeah, he had a scar across his palm on his right hand. He was big, but he had a stomach. I never saw his face though. I was new so all he really did with me was tie me up and drug me. So my memory of the house is really hazy. The girl that was there took care of me, she was supposed to teach me how to act around him.” 

“If you were tied up, how did you escape?” 

“He only tied us back with rope, and for the most part during the day and night we were allowed to just be in the room unrestrained because it was locked.” You rubbed your wrists, remember the way the rope burned your skin and how raw it made it. “But one day when he came in to get the girl I was with, she was pregnant and he didn't like that. He pulled her out in a haste and when he locked the door behind him he didn't do it right.” You were crying at this point, remember the screams of the girl as she is pulled away. She had looked out for you when you got there and you knew there was no hope of ever seeing her again.You knew they would find her eventually but it wouldn't be alive. “So when he went to bed I was able to slam against the door and after a couple hits it opened.”

“He didn't hear you?”

“No, we were kept in this storm cellar near the house. It was raining that night, I waited for the cracks of thunder and then hit the door, that way it would mask the sound. I don’t remember the house or where it was as soon as I broke out I ran. It was really secluded, I could hear his car chasing me but I guess I lost him once I hit the woods.” You sniffled, your heart rate picking up at just remembering the events. You had tripped so many times out of fear alone, at one point you believed that there really was no escape. You had collapsed at the edge of the woods from exhaustion, at the time you didn't have any idea that you had actually made it out. 

Colin watched the tears stream down your face. He hated that they had to make you relieve your trauma, but anything you remembered could be critical in catching the guy. Mare reached out and consoled you, telling you that there were only a couple more questions they needed to ask you. You nodded and answered them the best you could. 

“Thank you (y/n). You gave us a lot of good leads to look up on.” She stood up and you did the same. “Detective Zabel will take you to your apartment so you can get some of your belongings and then to his house and help you settle in.” 

You weren't prepared for how out of place you would feel in your own apartment. You hadn't even been gone that long and yet everything seemed so foreign to you. You told Colin he would make himself comfortable as you got a bag together. You walked through your apartment looking at all of your possessions. Nothing seemed real, or brought any comfort. In your mind you were still trapped in that small space, sharing a twin mattress with a girl who was long gone. You had loved your apartment and now it just seemed constraining. Willing you to continue with your life and go back to normal. Something you weren't quite ready for yet. You rifled through your clothes, pulling random out of the drawers, not even bothering to see what it was. All you wanted to do was get out of your apartment. 

Colin was looking at the pictures that were hanging on your wall. He smiled to himself at seeing you through the years, from your awkward teen years to now. He liked this one picture in particular, you were on the beach standing about ankle deep in the water. Your hair was blowing around your face and you had the happiest smile on your face. He blushed looking at it, you  looked very pretty in the picture. Of course he had thought you looked very pretty the first time he had laid eyes on you. As soon as he thought about it he shook his head trying to clear it from his mind. It wasn't right of him to think things like that, he had just met you and you had gone through something horrible. The last thing you needed was the man you were staying with thinking about you in that way. 

You watched as Colin looked over your pictures with a smile on his face. You blushed at the way he stared at our pictures. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you. You lifted up your bag. “I’m ready to go now.” 

The ride to his house was awkward and quiet. Colin glanced over at you. “I wasn't sure if I was supposed to have the radio on or not.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he continued on. “You know how they always say in serious situations you should not have your radio on cause it seems insensitive.” He started to ramble and you watched him with an amused look. He was so considerate but in the most awkward way possible. He sighed and glanced at you again. “That didn't make any sense did it?”

“Not at all.” He laughed and you did as well. It surprised you, you didn't expect to be able to laugh like that anymore. You took a quick glance at Colin, there was something about him that you couldn't quite place, something about him that made you feel safe and almost normal. Being around him reminded you of who you used to be. Colin saw you looking at him and smiled, you looked away with a smile of your own taking hold. Colin flipped on the radio, ABBA started playing. He hummed along to the tune mumbling the words to the song under his breath. After a while you joined him, your shoulders moving away from your ears as you relaxed. “Afraid of a love affair, but I think you know, that I can’t let go….” 

Your first thought was that Colin’s house felt like a home. The minute you stepped through the door this wave of comfort settled over you. The dated furniture and childhood pictures really tied it all together. His mom tried to ambush you at the door with questions and hugs as Colin did his best to fend her off. He told her she could talk to you after you got settled in. 

 Colin rubbed the nape of his neck giving you an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry about her. She means well.” 

“I think she’s nice.” You gave him a gentle smile.

He led you down the hall and stopped at the door closest to the living room. “This is the guest room.” He opened the door. The room was filled with boxes and crafting supplies, they were scattered over the bed and tossed into various corners. Colin cursed and scrambled to quickly empty the room. You giggled as you watched him apologize for the mess. He shook the blanket out, coughing at the dust that erupted from the fabric. He placed the blanket back down and placed his hands on his hips. “I didn't think the room was this bad.”

“It’s okay, it’ll be interesting to stay here.” You joked. 

“No, it’s not, um let’s see.” Colin thought for a moment before it hit him. He grabbed your bag and opened the door across from the room. “You can stay in my room.” He smiled widely at you and you just gaped at him.

“What, no-

“Yes, you can stay here and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Mr. Zabel-”

“Colin.” He smiled shyly at you. ‘Please call me Colin.”

You returned it and started again. “Colin, I can sleep on the couch. I mean you’re already letting me stay here. I can’t take your room either.” 

“Please, take the room.” His tone was firm. You sighed and nodded. “Great, so you can get settled here while I go back to the station.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“I have to get back to help Mare, but my mom will be here if you need anything. And if you need me you can call me. Okay?”

“Okay.” He moved towards you and kissed your cheek, you flinched and he reeled back. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” He practically jumped to the other side of the room. “Force of habit I usually kiss my mom on the cheek before I leave. I-” he sputtered out, his face flushed red. I’m just going to go now, I’ll see you later.” He rushed out before leaving you standing alone in the center of his room. 

You lifted your hand up to your cheek to feel the spot where he had kissed you. It was wildly inappropriate that he had done so, but it was even worse that you enjoyed it. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of him kissing you again, but this time moved slightly over. 

You set your bag down on his bed and made your way to the kitchen. His mom was sitting at the dining room table and got up when she saw you coming. 

“It’s okay ma’am, you don’t need to get up. I just came to get a drink of water.” 

‘Let me get it.” She didn't even give you room to protest, she sprang out of her chair and rushed back with a glass of water. You thanked her.

“You have a really nice home Ms. Zabel.”

 “Thank you dear.” She smiled warmly at you and hesitantly reached her hand out towards you. Resting it on your forearm, you looked at where her hand rested. You hated how such a simple act of comfort made you tear up, it was nice to feel such a loving touch. Her voice made you look back up at her. “You know, this is your home now too.” 

You smiled at her, nodding at her statement. Little did you know how right she was. And little did you know that pretty soon Detective Colin Zabel’s house would become more of a home to you than any place before.

Taglist: @anonymushhy @chiswritingandreadingcorner @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @kaismessiahbb

[unbreathable]

ride home  / S. Rogers

Summary : As a girl you were always told to never accept a ride from unknown men. You knew what could happen, you knew the dangers and heck, you`ve seen how it ruined some girls. But hey, he`s your teacher, nothing could happen. Right?

Pairing : Dark(soft)!teacher Steve Rogers x female Reader

Before you read, please understand that this is intended to be a dark fic. There will be noncon elements, rape, violence, manipulation and so much more. If you find any of these disturbing, please click away. 18+ only.

Warnings for this one shot : manipulation, noncon elements, rape, use of drugs, lost of virginity. This is some kind of au and Steve might be out of character a little.

Word count : 3.319

Credit : for the gif I used, the credit goes to its rightful creator.

Note : Don’t expect this to be any good. I came up with this over the course of a few hours and I’m still learning how to write one shots, as I find it much easier to write a series. Also I still suck at writing “smut”. I’m trying to perfect it, tho. Promise. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one shot till my mind would be satisfied with the way the next chapter of “The Magpie” turned out and would let me post it. :)) Also, please excuse any mistakes I made. Have a great day you guys!

                   Also, to all the writers from this platform : thank you !

Girl found wondering around without any memory of the last few days, claims she had been abducted and raped...

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the case which has been all over the news for the past week. It was quite predictable, really. Young girl, too drunk for her own good woke up by herself in the middle of nowhere. You sighed. In a city as big as New York, cases like this happened almost every other day, but there was always something left behind. Fight marks, blood, hair. Anything that could help the police find the person who did it. This time though, there was nothing.

The poor girl. You couldn`t help but pity her. She must be terrified. All alone against a world that knows nothing better than to judge. You pinched your nose in exasperation.

Cases like this, it`s what made you choose to study law. You wanted to be able to help other women. To offer them a chance at justice. No one deserved to be told that it was their own fault for wondering alone at night or for wearing something more showing. No girl should feel like the law protects only the male population...

“ And what`s your opinion on this matter, miss I`m too busy scrolling on my phone to pay attention to class?”

You cursed in your head, as you put your phone away and lifted your eyes to meet your teacher.

Steve Rogers. America`s hero, savior of the world and an actual pain in your ass, was looking at you expectantly. You held his gaze as you forced your lips to form some kind of smile. Something about him always put you on edge and the way his eyes darkened as he stared at you, didn`t exactly help ease the feeling.

“I`m sorry, I was distracted.” you murmured, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he caught you unprepared. ”If you would be so kind...”

You looked at him as you raised one eyebrow. It was always like this. No matter what you did he`d always find something to pick at you. At first you took it as a form of banter between a teacher and his students, but with time it became clearly that he had a problem with you. Your grades didn`t reflect the hard work you always put in. Your extra work wouldn`t be considered. Every time you would as much as look at your watch he`d find something to jab at you. He would also have something to say about every paper you handed him. It was a miracle you even made the grade for his class.

You cringed as you remembered the comments he would make about your life outside his class. You seemed to bump into him on a daily. There was also something, in the way he watched your every move, that it made the hair at the back of your neck stay high on alert. You really couldn`t understand what you`ve done that America`s sweetheart despised you that much.

”The women rights...” he smirked down at you.

“Oh, yes. I strongly believe that women should have got their rights the same time men did.” you smiled when you realized that he wanted to add something else. “I mean we know that every society of this world was built around androcentrism, but if we`re real the women were the ones that kept everything from falling apart.” you drew in a short breath. “Oh, and I believe that 1920 was a bit late for our women to get their rights, since women all around the world fought for it since the 18th century.”

You smirked, as for once in your life the bell rang exactly when you needed it. Forcing a smile his way, you stood up gathering your notebooks. You were quite proud of yourself, not because your answer was the desired one, but because you got on professor Rogers nerves. While he didn`t seem to have a problem with women and feminists in general, he sure had a problem with the way you choose to speak on the matter. From the corner of your eye you saw his jaw twitch.

At first you were afraid to even say your opinion lest you would upset him, but now you enjoyed to see that vein on his forehead nearly pop. You held back a giggle. Oh well, at least you won`t have to see him for the next few weeks.

“Professor!” you rolled your eyes when you herd your bestfriend use her sweet voice. “I was wondering if you`d like to come to our party tonight.”

You stood straight, narrowing your eyes at the one that has been your friend since the first day you came to the city. What the hell was happening. You knew she had a crush on him, everyone did, but she wasn`t the one to just go and ask someone out, especially not him. You watched her in confusion as professor Rogers made his way to the front of the class.

“You know, with everything happening right now, the uni council would let us hold the party only if there was someone that could take care of us.”

“Oh!” you supposed that made sense, but even so why did it have to be him.

“Of course professor Barnes already said that he`ll be there, but we`d be thankful if you came too. Please!” your friend bated her eyelashes at him as you rolled your eyes.

Professor Rogers had a pleased smile as he moved his eyes from her to you. You held his gaze, even going as far as raising one eyebrow at him. He blinked, before turning his head towards the rest of the class.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he said after a short moment dismissively. ”`I`ll be there.”

There was something sinister in his eyes. Something that you failed to see as you made your way out of the lecture class.

“I can`t believe you invited him!” you playfully jabbed your friend in the shoulder as she walked next to you.

“Oh, come on! It’s just tonight, and I bet he won’t be able to stay up that late since he’s like... the same age as history?” she bit back a laugh, as she took your hand. “It will be fun, you`ll see.”

You hoped she was right since you were never a big fan of parties of any kind.

                                       _ _ _

This wasn`t fun. Not at all.

You knew you should have stayed home, yet you still wanted to enjoy the last night with your class mates before break. But this wasn`t it. The music was too loud and you couldn`t even hear what some people were saying. Also you`ve never really been a techno fan. The food was crap and you were sure everyone came just because there were free drinks.

It was well past midnight and you have been there since the beginning, but you were already dreading it. You smiled as your only joy came from watching drunk freshmen being rejected by some of your friends. The girls were ruthless and that made you proud.

“Hey girl!” your bestfriend came by your side, holding two glasses in her hands as her body danced along the rhythm of the music. “Look at was professor Rogers sent us.”

Her words were slurred and you could see that she drank already too much. That`s why at first you thought you didn`t hear her right. While it wasn`t unusual for men to send women drinks, getting a drink from your teacher was something you never thought could happen. It was wrong in a way.

“What?” your eyes widened as soon as the word left your mouth.

You eyed the glass she handed you. It seemed to be one of your favorites, and after the sour taste the beer left in your mouth, that would have been like a desert. Still something made you suspicious.

“Come on, take it!”  your friend pressed as she smiled broadly. “He must have realized that he’s been an ass all year and wants to make amends.”

She was giggling as her glossy eyes drifted around the room. She didn`t seem to be able to focus on anything, but somehow her shaky hands found yours and brought the glass you were holding closer to your mouth. You weren`t exactly sure what came over you, but you opened your mouth and let the liquid go down your throat. Involuntarily, your eyes wondered around till you saw the back of your least favorite teacher. He didn`t even seem to care about anything around him as he was engaged into a discussion with professor Barnes. That alone made you feel safe, even though the drink left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You were too quick to judge, you resonated. This was probably his way of saying: “Sorry I tormented you that much.” You suddenly giggled. It was shortly followed by your friend`s laughter. She threw the glass to the side and took your hand leading you to the dancefloor.

You weren`t that much of a dancer. You knew just some basics moves and that was it, but now you didn`t seem to care. You let your body move, and only chuckled when your legs started to feel like jelly. It was a strange feeling. You suddenly felt like were floating.

You furrowed your brows as you started to feel that your body didn`t exactly respond to your impulses. Everything around you happened in slow motion.

You cursed. Just how much did you drink? Moving one hand to your head, you tried to get your senses back, but you found it too hard to do. Your head buzzed. For a second you looked around trying to spot your friend among the sweaty bodies on the dancefloor, but it was like you couldn`t recognize anybody.

Fuck this. You had enough of this party already, and the way you felt made you decide that it was time to go home. You moved between the sea of bodies as fast as you could. Your coat and purse were the only thing you spent more than five minutes looking for, but as you found them you practically run out of there.

The bus stop wasn`t that far, but just the thought that you`ll have to go home by bus, made you want to throw up. You didn`t feel well and there was  dizziness that started to overcome you. As you watched the empty street, you cursed again. Of course you`ll have to wait till the next bus came. Damn it! You should really get your license.

The sound of a engine from behind you, made you turn your head. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the Range Rover slow down and actually stop right next to you. You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the tinted glass, but as a wave of nausea hit you, you moved your head to the side. You didn`t exactly pay attention when one of the windows went down. You didn`t really care. You felt sick, and all you wanted, was to get home.

“ I saw you left the party early.” the deep voice said. “Are you all right kitten?”

You hissed when you heard the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. What was he even doing here? Your heart skipped a beat as another wave hit. You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. Just ignore him and he`ll go away. You didn`t exactly knew why you choose to act like that but there was something in your head that told you it was for the best.

“Come on girl, I have to make sure everyone is safe and sound.” you heard his voice. “If you don`t feel fine, I can take you home.”

The idea of getting home sooner and in a nice car was looking really good right now. But still, you didn`t feel like it was the best for you. You choose to keep quiet for reasons not even you knew. You glossy eyes scanned the schedule of the bus that was right in front of you. Thirty minutes and you`ll go home.

You heard professor Rogers sigh.

“And here I thought you never shut your mouth.” there was a deep chuckle, fallowed by the sound of the engine coming to life. “Look kitten I can either get you home or I`ll go my merry way and let you here all alone... well not quite. But I`m not sure you`d want that kind of company.”

Confusion filled your mind. The sudden move you made to look at him, made you dizzy. You tried to focus your eyes, in time to see him pointing to somewhere behind you. You slowly turned.

A group of guys were eyeing you like a wolf would his prey. Your mouth fell open as they did obscene gestures at you. Your whole body freeze as fear took over you. You knew what could happen. Suddenly you were more sober that ever and as you heard the car start moving, you nearly threw yourself in front of it. On shaky legs you moved towards the door.

“Wait” you find it hard to speak. “Professor, I`m sorry I... please!”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and didn`t even register the way he smirked as you got into the car. Everything was a haze. You only felt like you could breath when the car started to gain speed. You didn`t even remembered to give him your address or anything, but as the car rolled down various streets you were only thankful you were far away from them.

“It such a crazy world out there” professor Rogers voice made you move your head towards him, but as the fear was gone, you started to feel the dizziness again.

With unfocused eyes you watched him. America`s hero was giving you a ride home for free and you were acting like he was your biggest enemy. What was wrong with you?

“I have to say I`m impressed.” he suddenly said as the car started to slow down. “That was one of the strongest drugs that you drank, and you still have some of your conscious left. The other ones were down after a few minutes.”

You looked at him and simply blinked. You wondered if your mind was playing games with you. Surely, he hadn`t said what you think you heard. You must have imagined everything.

“E... excuse me?” you asked dully.

You drew in a shaky breath as your trembling hand went to the door. He chuckled darkly at your attempts to open it. You wanted to scream but as your movement became slower and slower you found that fear wasn`t enough to fuel your limp body.

The car came to a sudden stop. You closed your eyes as you felt hands pulling you back.

“Now, now honey.” you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Don`t waste your energy, you`ll need it.”

You turned your head and watched him through your eyelashes. Something in your head was screaming at you to fight, to run, to get away. You wanted to punch, scratch, hurt him in any way. But your body didn`t listen.

It happened too fast. In a matter of second your dress was ripped to shreds. And your found yourself pressed to the door. He was over you in an instant. Turning your head to the side so that he could stare into your eyes. He had a hungry look on his face. You`ve seen it many times but it never terrified you as much as now.

“Just as pretty as I imagined.” he said in a husky voice.

You squeezed your legs as you felt his hand moving around along your body. He tugged at your bra till the clasps snapped. Your nipples stood erect, you didn`t know if it was from the cold of the car or the heat that was inside you. One of his hands came forward at pinched at your nipples. You made to move, but as sensing your intention he tugged your head back by your hair.

“Don`t you even dare!” he growled as his thumb played with one of your nipples. “I waited a long time for this”.

He leaned forward kissing down your stretched neck. His mouth was hot against your skin. You gasped when you felt his tongue leaving wet traces along your collarbone. He tugged at your hair one more time before his hand went down.

“Always dressing like this world is your own runaway, always thinking that you know it all.” he let out a moan as he squeezed your ass. “Do you know what a face as pretty as yours and an attitude like that do to a man?”

You whimpered. You never meant to catch his attention in that way, you just wanted to feel good about yourself. You wanted to tell him that. To tell him that you were sorry, but your brain didn`t work anymore. There was no reaction even as he spanked you. You felt like you could pass out every second.

“Don`t even think about it!”

You closed your eyes when your panties were soon the same as your other clothes. Slick was going down your legs. Despite everything, you were aroused.

“So fucking wet already. Good girl!” he praised.

You felt his hand descend down to your very core, proding around. You bit your lips as tears filled your eyes.

“How many have been here before?” he gave a low chuckle the same time his fingers pinched your button.

“One?” he mocked as one of his long fingers entered you.

You held back a gasp. Non, no, no. This wasn`t happening. Nobody touched you like that before. Nobody even came close to it. That`s not how you wanted it not how you dreamt it would happen. You wanted dinner, roses, a man you loved... not him.

“Two?” he continued as another finger stretched you.

You felt your walls clench around his fingers, as he moved them in and out ou you, everything while his thumb circled your most sensitive part.

“Fuck... you`re tight!” his breath was ragged, it was like he couldn`t get enough.

There was a sudden pause. In a quick move you found yourself pressed to the door of the car, as he angled your body to have better access to your burning core. He drew in a breath.

“A virgin.” he moaned.

You closed your eyes as you herd him playing at his clothes. The sudden hardness you felt proding around your core, made you shiver. You didn`t dare to look back and see it. You were scared. It seemed too big. You were afraid it would split you in a half.

You screamed when he entered you. The pain blurred your vision. Your whole body ached and tears fell down your cheeks. No, no, no. You bit back a moan of pain when he started to move, not caring about you at all. His moves were rough, punishing.

“Shhh doll, I`ll take care of you.” he rasped. “You must have waited so long for this... saving yourself for me.”

Your body moved in rhythm with his. His cock dragged along your walls as every move sent a wave of pain through you. Soon though, you found the pain disappeared. A strange feeling took over you. It was almost pleasurable. You guessed you would have enjoyed it under any other circumstances. But now? Now you were just tired.

As you passed out, you failed to notice the feeling of something warm flowing through you.

                                          _ _ _

Steve smiled down at your sleeping form. So pretty, even after being used like that. You had a glow. Too bad you might not remember anything that happened. He chuckled. It`s a  good thing he planned to keep you. He`ll make sure you`ll never forget him.

You were his girl after all. The only reason he took that shitty job as a teacher.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

can I request some naga with a spetznaz reader? she is highly skilled and has been with the spetznaz for atleast a decade. and maybe her squad had to team up with naga to take down some dangerous drug lord or something and they start to fall in love. note she always wears her balaclava when she's around other people she only tekens it off when she is alone with her men or just by herself. she also has a few scars

sorry if it's too specific!

Don't Go | Naga x Fem!Reader

Oooooo sheeeeeet 👀👀👀 I'm so here for Naga x badass lady content lmao. Also, not to worry!! I love yous guy's OCs, and if this is one such instance, I'm more then happy to write some content for them. In fact, I'd be quite honored :)

Anyway, sorry for the wait but this turned into a whole ass little fic, so here we go!!

The blistering Laotian sun beams overhead. Naga is taking shelter in the branches of a tall tree, sharpening a blade and surveying the land below.

His men and yours mill around, preparing for the fight coming up.

In return for his work for Perseus, Kapano has called in a favor... One of Perseus' operators and a small squad to help him and his men take down a rival who's been getting far too close for comfort to his territory. And well... He didn't get to be in this position by playing nice.

The two of you have been tracking his whereabouts for weeks now and, at long last, the time has come. Tonight's the night, and afterwards your partnership will be through.

One last shick of the blade and then... Silence.

He looks down into the clearing and picks you out from the crowd. An easy task, considering you're wearing one of the same few balaclavas you always wear.

And he does mean, always.

He's never seen your face, despite the few times he's given you the privilege of seeing his. Somehow, he's always thought that maybe, if he removes his mask or bandana, it'll encourage you to do the same, but... To no such avail.

It's strange, you know... He hasn't a clue what you look like, and yet he can't seem to get you out of his mind. He's wondered often, but all he knows for sure is that you have the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen...

The thought of parting ways with you after tonight upsets him, even though he knows it shouldn't. This is a business arrangement only. Nothing more.

And yet... He's never met a woman quite like you before.

He could get any woman he wants in all of Laos into his bed should he please, and yet the one who actually intrigues him, he has no chance with. And that's just the thing, isn't it? He doesn't want a woman in his bed, he wants one in his life damn it!

His lonely, stressful, life...

Prostitutes and dancers are plentiful and cheap to a man like him, but company such as that does nothing to interest him. He needs... A partner.

Someone who will stay through the tough and the crazy and the fighting and the schemes. Someone to be there through the hurt and the loss and the anger and the loneliness. Someone...

Like you.

During the day, he has visions of expanding his underground empire and sharing the wealth together. At night, he dreams of a quiet life with a woman who calls his name sweetly and kisses him softly. Yes, even a feral, conniving, wild man such as he dares to dream of a domestic life after this one to grow old and fat in, from time to time.

Kapano lays his head back and sighs deeply. Surely not. You are a tigress among women, certainly not the type to dote and be doted on by a small man with a big lifestyle and personality like him.

Do you ever think of such things? He wonders.

He watches you spar hand to hand with one of your men. You're giving every bit as good as you get, and in a few moves more he's confident you'll gain the upper hand.

A thud and a cheer finds him from down below. He cracks open his eyes to see, to no one's surprise, that you have won. With a small smile and an even tinnier sigh, he claps his hands politely and slowly fades into one of his day dreams.

Just according to plan, the raid goes off without a hitch. The rival has been sufficiently delt with, and Naga has found himself considerably richer in the process. You spend most of the night laughing and celebrating as the two of you, along with your crews, haul back the loot you've captured.

The two of you take rest amongst the sea of pillows and cushions that make up his living room furniture. For the third time since you've been here face to face with him, you wince and try to play it off.

"Is something wrong?", he asks at last.

"Tsk, it's nothing. Just a cut I think", you touch your covered cheek and sigh. The woolen fabric is irritating the injury you received from the fight. Just another scar for the count, you suppose...

"Sorry, I really must be going. I should clean this up...", You move to stand, only to fall back into the pile of cushions with a hiss. It would seem that knee on knee strike you received earlier as well is catching up with you.

Naga puts his hands out to steady you, "No no! It's alright... I um...", He spares a cautious glance to the hem of your balaclava. Should he... "Would you like me to clean it for you?"

You give him an appraising look. There's no one you trust in this world with your face, aside from a select few of your men. But... You must admit.

You've developed... Feelings, for the oh so vicious little warlord. Hm, vicious only on the outside, you muse. He has a tender heart underneath it all, and you consider yourself lucky to have been able to bear witness to it, just as you are now.

"...Fine"

Slowly, carefully, you remove the mask. It's stuck to the dried blood from your wound but, with a bit of help, it's off soon enough.

You hold a hand to your injured cheek, hoping to stop up some of the fresh blood after the old stuff has been ripped away. Naga holds your mask, and he... Feels...

In awe.

You have all the beauty of a goddess, and he feels truly privileged to behold the sight of you.

"Something wrong?", You cock an eyebrow, suddenly second guessing your decision to reveal yourself.

"No, I just...", Gently, he reaches out a hand to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, "You're more beautiful then I ever could've imagined..."

His voice is quiet and distant, as though he's in a dream. As the moonlight dances through the room, he gazes at you in a state of absolute wonder until it almost makes you wish you could stay in this moment forever.

Suddenly, he shakes himself, snapping out of it. He shrinks away and breaks his eyes from looking at yours, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that", he's quiet for a moment. You both are, as you reel from the sudden change. "I'll go get th-"

"Wait", your hand reaches out and tugs him back down. He stumbles a little and finds himself landing closer to you then he's ever been before.

The cool breath of your lips tickles the skin of his broad little nose, even as your breath seems to hitch in your throat. His deep, almond eyes lock onto your bright, shining irises, the only feature he's known you for, for all this time, before daring a glance at your parted lips.

The slightest of movements brings you closer to him, but he's been waiting for this moment far too long for gentleness.

He supports your head and shoulders before crashing his lips into yours. His lips are thick and soft, far more so then you would've expected of gang boss like himself. He suspends himself over top of you, his body only inches away as you fall back completely against the plush pillows.

You run a hand along his side as he works over your slips, rough, but slow. His body is lean and hard, but softer and pleasingly warm in certain places. He moans happily, like a dog receiving a particularly enjoyable scratching, as you gently caress his side and kiss him back.

When you're both ready, he gently breaks the kiss, only to plant one more to your forehead. He lingers there a moment, his voice the barest of whispers, "Please don't go tomorrow..." He sniffs, and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was about to cry.

He pulls back a little and shakes his head, "Or ever. I-I want you to stay...", He caresses your healthy cheek, and shyly makes eye contact with you before pressing a long, tender kiss to your lips. "I think... I think I love you"

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, a wave of surprise over taking you. You had no idea he felt this way... Maybe you're not as crazy as you thought for all those times you've thought about him...

Honestly, you don't know if you're ready for something like this, but...

Is anyone?

You swallow your nerves, and find that a small smile breaks free as you let your anxieties go. "I think...", You cup his cheek and give a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose, "maybe I love you too"

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 16 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader is trying to go back to her old life, which includes the life she led before she met Spencer. Category: Angst. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader Content Warning: Drug mention, addiction, jealousy, arguing, death mention Word Count: 9.3k

MASTERLIST

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“Don’t wear that tie, wear the other one.”  

Spencer turned to look at me curiously, his little grin the first signal that he saw right through me. “Why?” He asked, taking off the tie he’d only just finished putting on to swap it for the other one hanging in my closet.

It’d been a week since Spencer all but moved into my room, refusing to leave my side for even a second longer than necessary. Aside from the freshly healing bullet wounds, it had been one of the best weeks of my life.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, trying and failing to hide my smile. “I just wanted to watch you take it off.”

My boyfriend pointed an accusing finger at me as he approached the bed, using it to poke my nose before retreating. “You, my dear, are a troublemaker. I’m going to be late.”

It was hard to believe that life could resume so quickly for everyone else when it felt like I was still on my knees on the cold tile floor of the bank. I tried not to think about it, acutely aware of the terrible things that could happen when PTSD was left unchecked.

I wanted to think about nice things, instead. Like how cute my boyfriend was, acting like it was my fault he’d be late while he took his time tying his tie over and over again. He’d say it was because it wasn’t perfect, but we both knew he didn’t care about that. He just didn’t want to leave yet.

“If you’re going to be late Dr. Reid, it’s because you refused to get out of bed until I gave you a kiss for every hour you’ll be gone today.” I reminded him, joy filling my chest at the small combination of a smile and a pout I received in response.

“You still owe me two.”

“Do I?” I responded, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him back to my place on the bed. “Then please, let me remedy that.”

Not wanting me to move any more than I already had, he quickly came down to place a chaste kiss on my lips. But I didn’t let it end there, holding onto the newly secured tie and tugging him closer.

Now it might be my fault, I thought, but I didn’t care. With one hand on the bed to steady himself and the other carefully caressing my cheek, he put all of his love into one little kiss. I felt like I was going to explode with the pent up desire that had accompanied being with him for so long without being able to show him how much I loved him in a physical way.

He insisted that he didn’t need sex, that it didn’t matter to him, but it mattered to me! I didn’t have a way with words like he did, and while he was content with curling up by my side, it left me wanting more.

The doctor kept telling me it would be soon, that the time will have passed quickly in hindsight. I didn’t understand half of what he said— he was just trying to get me to accept the narcotics in hopes that I wouldn’t end up back in his hospital.

I was doing it again. I was thinking about things I didn’t need to think about instead of the way Spencer bit down on my bottom lip when he paused to let me breathe. The smell of his cologne filled my lungs and I remembered how much I used to miss it. I’d stopped appreciating it when it was around me all the time.

It wasn’t until his phone rang that he left completely, tearing himself away from me like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself any other way.

“Hello?”

There were only a few reasons they would be calling him right now, and I didn’t like any of them.

“Oh… Alright.”

It was that exact tone, that terrified, pitiful grumble that told me what I needed to know. He had to go somewhere, and he wouldn’t be back today. He’d retreated from me, turning his back to me like I wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening just because I couldn’t see his face.

His voice was hushed. “Hotch, are you sure that I…”

The hopelessness hurt. I wanted him to go back to work; I knew he needed to. But it was so hard to let him go.

“Understood. I’ll be there soon.”

“How many more kisses do I owe you now?” I asked with a nervous laugh, fiddling with the sheets between my fingers.

“I don’t know.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like that voice.” I tried to keep my tone playful, but it wasn’t enough.

“I have to travel.”

The fact that he wasn’t looking at me made me more anxious than the fact he was now grabbing all the clothes he had in the closet and dropping them in the suitcase.

“Where to?”

Spencer paused, staring at the floor so that he could see me from his peripherals. He was torturing himself by forcing himself to see my reaction, but he wasn’t strong enough to look directly at me.

“Alaska.”

“Oh... wow.” I didn’t know how to respond, my body freezing as I tried to conceptualize just how far away that was. Far enough away that in maps of the United States, they had a separate area designated for it since it couldn’t fit.

It was too far, that’s all I knew.

“Hey, that’s fine! I can still call you.” My voice sounded foreign and the hopefulness was poorly performed. I wasn’t sure calling would be enough, but it apparently didn’t even matter.

“Not really. They don’t have service out there. Garcia is coming with us.” His packing got angrier, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me.

“It’ll be fine, Spencer.”

His hands, unable to find any more clothing to grab, found purchase in his hair instead, running through them roughly. “What if something happens?” He asked as he finally turned to face me with a seriousness that was unbecoming.

“Nothing is going to happen. I have tons of friends who can help me. I’m just going to be sitting here on my ass all day watching bad TV.”

I gestured to the television that my friends had been nice enough to set up in my room, sighing as Spencer sulked in the other corner. It took a few waves of the hand, but eventually he dragged himself back to my side. Opening my arms to him, I took him in when his head dropped against my shoulder once more.

“I-I’m not ready to leave you yet.” The vulnerability shook in his voice, and I could feel the insistence in his grip denting my pillow.

“Well, too bad, superman.” I teased, pulling him away enough that I could show him my smile, hoping that it would be enough to calm his mounting fears. “You’ve got lives to save.”

He looked at me, his eyes still welling with tears despite the smile he now wore. He took my hand and heldit against his cheek. He closed his eyes; taking a deep breath, he mumbled, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me fall more in love with you every single day.”

I had to laugh, and I cursed him for it. It hurt so badly to laugh still, but the look on his face was worth it. No matter what, Spencer Reid had to be a romantic, and I loved him for it. It was so very much unlike me.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, old man.” I chastised him lightly, “You’re going to be late.”

He wasn’t done yet, though, that protective glimmer in his eyes returning with a vengeance. He held tighter to my hand and bit his lip.

“Promise me you’ll be safe. Don’t do anything you aren’t supposed to. Please.”

It sounded like a beg, a desperation that I wasn’t used to. Up until now, it always felt like I was the one who was seeking more information and assurance. But now he sat before me, practically broken at the thought of not seeing me for a few days, pleading for me to take my own life seriously.

I hated the attention, but couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand; it would only make him worry more.

“I promise.”

He didn’t believe me, but he accepted my answer, anyway. Lunging forward, his lips crashed into mine without any reservations. I laughed into the kiss, tangling my hands in his hair so that he’d have to fix it again before he could leave me.

It was only funny until I remembered how long it might be until I see him again. I held onto him, deepening the kiss just to drag it out. He was also looking for an excuse, still refusing to part all the way when our lungs had nothing left.

“I love you… so much.” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine for a moment longer.

“I love you, too.”

I’d said it so many times in the past few weeks, but the words still felt new on my tongue. I wanted to say them more, to shower him in my affection, but I didn’t know how. Love was just another language he was fluent in, and I decidedly wasn’t. All I could do was wait for him to translate the thoughts to me whenever I got lost.

“I’m going to try to set up something so I can talk to you, okay? I can’t promise it’ll work but I’m going to try. You remember what I said about the last time I couldn’t reach you.”

Memories of papers scattered on the floor ran through my mind. I could practically feel his hand wrapped around my neck for the first time, holding my life in his hand because I’d trusted him to keep me safe. The vision of waking up in his bed, only to have him lower himself below the sheets, pressing kisses down my stomach.

Things had been so different then. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Those thoughts were suffocating and overwhelming and painful, and I shoved them back into the deepest recesses of my mind. It was too early to be emotional.

I took a deep breath, patting Spencer’s cheek with a soft palm before I summoned all the sarcasm I could in my voice. “I’ll always be with you in your heart,” I joked, smiling as he cringed at the sound.

“I mean it, little girl. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re in for it when I get back.”

Feigning shock and a gasp, I brought my hand to my chest just in time for him to step away from me. The absence of him was colder than it should have been. At least he appeared to be in better spirits, and I wanted to keep it going.

“Dr. Reid, has that ever worked to make me not do something?”

Spencer shook his head with a chuckle, grabbing the rest of his things with more pep in his step. The closer he got to the door, the harder my heart beat. It was deafening and mind numbing in its volume.

Was this how love was supposed to feel? Or had I just grown so spoiled and accustomed to him being here, that I was being entirely selfish? I would no doubt have days to think about it.

He returned to me one more time, running his hand gently through my hair and granting me one more soft, serene kiss in the pale morning light.

“Take care of yourself.” He whispered, the begging bleeding back into his voice. “For me.”

“I will.” I promised before closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see him leave. I still heard him hesitate at the door, and I felt his eyes linger on me for a few seconds longer. But then the door clicked shut, and I was alone again.

—————————————————

Nine days. I’d been gone for nine days. It might as well have been a lifetime, because that’s exactly what it felt like. Even worse, I was only able to call (y/n) a whopping three times, each one shorter than the last. We’d only talked for a total of 14 minutes and 29 seconds. And considering that nine days is 12960 minutes, that’s a pretty abysmal fraction.

But it didn’t matter, because as soon as that stupid jet landed in Virginia, I was on my way back to her. Thankfully it was still a normal hour and the sun was still out, albeit quickly setting.

She wasn’t answering my calls, and I tried not to think too much of it. During our last call, she’d told me that she started a new medication that made her sleepy. In fact, our conversation had been so short in part because she fell asleep halfway through the call.

I didn’t mind though, listening to the soft sound of her breathing until the signal went dead again. I’d played the audio over and over again in my head to help me sleep that night, knowing that she was hours away but still dreaming with me.

I was so ready to see her again, that I’d barely knocked on her door before the keys were already in the knob. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t want to spend another second longer than necessary before I could see her.

But before I could turn the handle, the door swung open and away from my hand.

There were a few people I’d expected to see; (y/n), her roommate, or possibly one of the other female friends the girls had mentioned that I’d yet to see. Unfortunately, it was the one face that hadn’t ever crossed my mind that appeared.

On the other side of the threshold was the man I’d only seen in pictures. To be more specific, one picture, months ago, sent to me from (y/n)’s phone in an attempt to keep her from answering my call.

I recognized him immediately, but realized I’d never actually heard his name.

We stood there for a long time, staring at the other with the utmost hostility in our eyes and postures. I hated the fact that I felt the need to compete with him, but found myself acting out of instinct. I just hoped that he wasn’t as smart or perceptive as her, and wouldn’t notice the insecurity and jealousy that immediately emerged.  

“So you must be the cop.” He drawled, leaning against the doorframe to prevent my entry. The action alone pissed me off, but I bit my tongue in the hopes I could deescalate the situation, despite how much I didn’t want to. There were many things I wanted to say to him, but only a few words came out.

“I’m not a cop.”

“Yeah, she said you’d say that.” He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he recalled a memory of her. I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

“That makes sense. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering it’s not my job.” I stated matter-of-factly, trying to remind myself that the two of them were friends. She’d known him for a long time, and he probably felt just as possessive of her as I did.

The only difference was that I had a reason to believe she was mine.

“Let me guess, your sense of humor is her favorite trait.” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. Normally I’d say that was my role, but right now all that I had to spit back was venom.

Retrieving my key from the door, I contemplated barreling past him to get to her quicker, but realized he was probably hoping to provoke that exact kind of reaction.

“You’re funny.” My face steeled and my fists clenched in my pockets, I peered around his head to the empty hallway behind him. “Where is she?”

“Sleeping.” That stupid smirk was back, his eyes trailing after my every movement, waiting for me to snap. When I didn’t, he escalated his antics further.

“I was about to go join her.” He said, licking his lips and standing up in an attempt to match my height.

But it wasn’t size or age that distinguished the two of us. It was our priorities. Because while he was here, trying to prove himself to me, all I could see was a young boy standing in the way of me seeing her again.

“No need. I’m here now.” I took a step forward, unsurprised to find that he didn’t immediately move out of my way.

He narrowed his eyes, grasping at straws to try and prolong this interaction. I couldn’t understand why, really. He couldn’t honestly believe I’d try to start a fight with him or leave, could he?

“Does she know you were planning on coming by?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I responded with a bored tone, staring him down until I saw his stance falter. It wouldn’t take much longer of this standoff for him to finally recede far enough into the apartment that I could just ignore him.

“Just wondering.” He mumbled, finally taking a step backwards and to the side so that I could enter. He shut the door behind me, but clearly wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Figured she wouldn’t have asked me to come spend the night with her if she knew you were coming. So she must not have expected for you to show up.”

I turned around to face him, knowing that I was playing into his games but unable to resist the temptation.

“She told me you got jealous last time. I would hate for you two to fight again if you found us in bed together. That would be so upsetting for her.”

“Well, you’re off the hook. No miscommunication. No worries at all.” It was times like these that I was grateful for my training, because it was the only thing keeping me from lunging at the boy and slamming him against the wall. I knew he could see it in my eyes.

He clearly had an idea of me in his head, one that was honestly probably pretty accurate. He wanted me to lose control and show that side of me, to prove that he was the better man. But he wasn’t. He’d had several years with her now to prove himself, and she’d still chosen me.

She chose me— that’s all I needed to remember.

“What if I want to stay?” He teased.

“We’ll let her decide.”

That was the first thing I’d said that struck a nerve in him. He resumed his previous stance with his back straight and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re a bit full of yourself for a dude who’s never here.” He spat, puffing his chest. The longer the bravado continued, the less intimidating it became. “You barely even know her.”

I was transported back to when (y/n) and I first started dating, when Morgan had accused me of the very same thing over lunch. My heart wrenched in my chest, because so much of me knew that it was still true.

She’d only just started to share information with me about her past, and still she spoke in vague generalities and half-thoughts. There was so much she hid from me, and I just… let her. I let her hide from me because I was scared that if I pressed her, she would leave.

At least, that’s what I’d thought. But each time someone pointed out how little I knew her, I was forced to consider the possibility that she was keeping me away for a deeper reason.

“I know all the parts of her that she doesn’t want to show you.” He taunted, sensing my anxieties that were clearly written across my face.

“Are you done? I’d like to go see her now.”

He didn’t respond, shaking his head. But I only got a few steps before I heard his voice again, this time louder and angrier.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Knowing that I’m here, in bed with your girlfriend while you’re on the opposite side of the country, not even answering her calls?” He remained rooted in his position at the end of the hall.

I lost the battle of keeping my eyes on her door, ripping them away so that I could turn to face him. My breathing got heavy and my hands finally left my pockets. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” I said, my voice falling quieter instead of growing, “You want to know why?”

The grimace on his face was the only answer I needed. I brought a finger to my own chest, not trusting myself to touch him. I barely knew this guy, and I wasn’t about to start a fight with one of (y/n)’s oldest friends to prove my manhood, especially if that was exactly what he wanted.

“I’m not worried because I trust her.” I practically whispered to him, “And even if I had some reason not to, I’m not intimidated by you.”

A fire appeared in his eyes, the desire to bite back stifled by the knowledge that there was nothing he could say to make me doubt her. He’d already tried and failed every time so far.

“I don’t care what parts of her you think I haven’t seen. Because I get to have the parts of her you wish you could. And she gave them to me willingly and without regret. Over and over again.”

There was so much more I wanted to say, but I was thankfully cut off by the hoarse, familiar voice in the backroom.

“Spencer?” She called, groggy yet excited. There was no way she could hear me from the room, which told me that she’d probably just woken up to my texts and hoped I was here. It told us both that when she woke up, the first person she thought to call was me.

“Yeah.” I said, a soft, genuine smile crossing my cheeks at the thought of her. “Like I said… I’m not worried.”

He didn’t follow me then, staying in the hallway to stew in his anger over the fact that this hadn’t gone at all how he’d planned. But I couldn’t think about him any longer, because as soon as I turned into her room, my heart melted.

She was sprawled out on her bed, hugging a body pillow like her life depended on it. Her hair was a beautiful disaster across her pillow, and the blanket had fallen far enough to see that she was swamped in the same Caltech sweatshirt she wore every time I was gone.

“Hey little girl.”

She slowly shimmied her way up the pillows, clearly surprised at my appearance despite having called me in. With half shut eyes, she spoke through a yawn, “What’re you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept in a week!”

“I missed you.” I admitted quietly, finally bridging the gap between us and climbing onto her bed on top of the covers. I couldn’t even bother taking off my blazer or my shoes; I needed to be close to her now, without any other unnecessary delay.

Despite curling up against me immediately, she still found a way to whine. “You better not have skipped out on anything for me. We know I’m not doing anything worthwhile in here.”

I leaned down to kiss her forehead, my hands holding her against me so that I could breathe in the familiar scent of her hair and perfume. “I strongly disagree.” I sighed, happy to hear her hum and giggle at the way my breath tickled her face.

I didn’t even hear the door open, but she tilted her head away from me to see her friend. I stayed where I was, not wanting to take my eyes off of her again for as long as I didn’t have to.

“I’m gonna head out. Let me know if you need me again.” He said, his voice full of repressed anger and sadness that I understood but didn’t particularly care about right now.

“Thanks for coming! I’ll probably see you next week; I’ll text you!” She chirped, waving to the man who’d already left.

His absence eased away the last remaining bit of tension in my shoulders, allowing me to bury myself in her neck while she continued to laugh. I heard the soft sounds of the tv for the first time and mumbled into her skin.

“What are you watching?”

“Just a sitcom. You wouldn’t be interested.”

She sounded... defensive, if not a little ashamed for her choice in shows. I had to laugh, realizing that she was still unaware of the shows my mom and I used to watch when I was a kid. The asinine, cheesy soap operas that taught me the dorky, awkward way to love that she constantly mocked me for.

I would save that piece of information for later, though, and instead, I chose to show her my own interest in the things she loved, or in the very least found comforting. “What’s it about?”

Apparently, it was the right question to ask. Over the course of the next thirty minutes she tried to condense the entire nine season series of The Office into one barely coherent rant. Eventually, she realized that I wasn’t following along as closely as she’d hoped, and just decided to start the show over.

I didn’t mind. She chastised me a few times for not paying close enough attention after catching me monitoring her reactions more than the show itself. But eventually she fell asleep on my chest, still murmuring about Jim and Pam until the words were just gibberish.

Without her commentary, I was forced to pay attention so that when she undoubtedly woke up and quizzed me, I wouldn’t just be repeating words I’d heard in the background. Somewhat unsurprisingly, I found myself swept up in the romantic storyline of her two favorite characters. So caught up, in fact, that when she woke up, it took me a moment to notice.

“What did I miss?” She grumbled, trying to force her eyes open while she turned to see the tv that displayed the immediate results of a very poorly timed love confession. “Oh, Casino Night.” Her voice was nostalgic and a bit solemn while she spoke. “This is one of my favorite episodes.”

“Why? It’s so sad.”

Without looking up at me, she pondered the question. It was obvious she’d never really thought to question why she was drawn to it. Her answer didn’t provide any comfort or explanation.

“I guess I relate to it. Loving someone like that.” She shrugged before turning back to rest her head against me. She’d said it so easily, like it wasn’t something jarring for me to hear. I realized then that she’d never told me about her past relationships. In fact, I didn’t even know if any existed.

She sensed the anxieties that were building and brought a hand to my cheek to reroute my gaze to her. “What’s wrong?”

“You… You never really talk to me about your life.” My voice was so pathetic, the pout on my lips so childish in its sadness. Because although I told myself I was only upset she hadn’t told me about it, another part of me was also jealous at the idea that anyone else ever got to hold her.

And what a stupid thought that was, to be jealous of men who didn’t get to keep her. I should have been hoping that she had people who loved her and held her and made her happy, not wishing none had existed.

“What are you talking about? We talk about it all the time.” She chuckled, clearly unaware of my inner debate and turmoil.

“I mean your life before me.” I clarified, taking her hand into mine and watching as she carefully wound our fingers together.

“Oh, well… Who cares? It’s in the past.”

She was using that voice that warned me that she was about to try and change the subject. She hadn’t meant to get this conversation started, and now it was quickly getting away from her. But I wasn’t ready to drop it—especially now that I was aware of a huge, life altering event that she’d managed to keep hidden until now.

“I care. If it’s important to you, it matters to me.” It didn’t seem to reassure her, a lopsided smile covering her cheeks before she tried to maneuver away from the topic again.

“What time is it? Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?”

I held up the small notepad that rested on her nightstand, displaying the several timestamps that I could tell were meant to signal the last time she’d taken painkillers. “I was waiting so I could offer you medicine.”

“Ugh, yes please.” She groaned, moving herself off me so that I could grab the bottles beside her bed.

But there was something I’d noticed before, which only became more obvious once I picked them up. I looked past the orange plastic, my mind straining to count the number of pills inside. The date didn’t match the amount.

“Did you fill the narcotics?”

She didn’t answer.

“Is that why he was here?”

“No.” She responded swiftly, shaking her head and rubbing her temples.

The mention of him brought out feelings that I’d almost forgotten, and with those feelings came stupid worries and questions. “...Why was he here?” I mumbled, turning the pill bottles in my hand like I didn’t already have them memorized.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, poking her tongue out at me. It worked to turn my pout into an awkward half-smile, but I was still sulking.

“Would he have really stayed in the bed with you?”

“What? No!” She shouted, sitting up fast enough that she winced, her hand grabbing her stomach but still talking through clenched teeth. “Did he say that?!”

Her reaction alone made me laugh, easing the tension and reminding me it was stupid to worry about it in the first place. “He might have implied it.” My hands started to sort through her tangled hair, gently arranging it back to its rightful place.

“Ugh, he’s such a fucking dick.” She grumbled, wiping her face to try and get rid of the sudden anger.

Meanwhile, I was once again distracted. It was obvious in the way she struggled to keep her eyes open and preventing her hands from turning to fists. She was in way too much pain for my comfort, and it was partially my fault for getting her riled up over something so silly.

But she hadn’t told me she filled the narcotics, and she didn’t tell me where they were. I needed to respect that, if only because I was scared that it might make her doubt me. When she turned to look me in the eyes, I held her cheek that fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me where they are. I understand.”  

“No, it’s fine. I trust you, Spencer. It’s…” The troubled look shifted to a shaky smile. “They’re in my bedside table. I don’t think I can get them myself.”

I tried not to look excited by the reveal in case she misinterpreted my happiness. It wasn’t the drugs I cared about – it was the fact she trusted me with the fact that they existed. That was enough to carry me through any cravings that popped up. They were few, but like always, they were there.

I funneled those feelings into my caretaking, grabbing her a water bottle and helping her ease back down onto the pillow after she’d down the pills. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, listening to soft sound of the theme song in the background.

Just as I shifted my focus back to the TV, she brought me back to her with a tiny whisper.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.”

I looked down to see she still had closed eyes, now accompanied with a genuine smile. I laughed at the sight, and her eyelids fluttered open at the sound. She narrowed her eyes into a suspicious glare.

“Yeah, I... may or may not have said that.” I admitted, wiggling my fingers between hers.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Very cocky, Dr. Reid.” She chastised, squeezing my hand tighter and bringing it up to her chest. I could feel her heart beating softly against us, her chest slowly rising and falling as she started to try to drift off again.

“What else did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing that matters. Let’s go to sleep.”

It was a suggestion that didn’t need to be made, because she was basically already asleep by the time she replied, “Okay. I love you.”

“Sweet dreams, little girl.”

—————————————————

The best part of the week was waiting for the chance to spend two uninterrupted days with (y/n). But this time it was different; when I left her house this morning, she told me she wanted some time to herself.

I tried to ignore the fifty alarm bells that rang in my head, convincing myself that she just needed a break from entertaining me. We all needed alone time sometimes, right?

No, that was a lie. I didn’t ever need a break from her, and it worried me that she needed one from me. Was I stressing her out? Were there more secrets she was keeping from me? It had to be something heavy if she didn’t want me to know, but that’s exactly the time she would need me most, right?

It was times like this when I wished that I had more experience with relationships; I was panicking and I didn’t want to ask anyone for help. I didn’t want to. I was scared that they might tell me the wrong thing, or the right thing. I was worried they might talk some sense into me and tell me that waiting outside my girlfriend’s apartment was creepy, stalkerish behavior.

I knew it was. I tried to justify it with a present that I was going to leave on her doorstep and leave. But when I got to her place, a dread filled me. I shouldn’t have come. She deserved her privacy and my trust. She’d earned it, and it wasn’t right for me to doubt her.

So, I turned my car back on and prepared to leave. But before I could, I saw her. Alone.

We’d talked about it before, and she’d promised me she wouldn’t go anywhere alone. The risks were too high – not just that she might fall or get stranded, but that something could go seriously wrong. Her stitches could tear, or she could overexert herself. She could get into a car crash and no one would know about her already existing internal damage.

She wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. She’d promised me. But there she was, climbing into her car after suspiciously glancing around. Her car left so quickly, I barely had time to think about the ethics of following her. After a few seconds of wrestling with myself, I decided to just do it and worry about the consequences later.

I’d admit it to her later, when she was safe and sound. Maybe it would be good, too, to see that she was fine without me. I just wished she’d told me so I could come to her aid if she needed me to.

After nearly twenty minutes of driving, I still had no idea where she was going. I was a little surprised she hadn’t noticed me yet, which just goes to show she probably shouldn’t have been driving.

Actually, was she on narcotics?

My mind was spinning, my hands shaking when she finally pulled into a small, unfamiliar cemetery parking lot off the side of the road.

For all her paranoia leading up to this point, she didn’t check the other cars in the lot when she got out. Instead, she put her hand on her stomach and slowly made her way through the gate, hobbling off into the field.

And then I felt terrible for so many reasons. I selfishly felt awful that she didn’t want to bring me here. It hurt that I was violating her trust like this, but it hurt worse to know she was going through it alone.

Leaning back in my seat, I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, trying to calm down the emotional disaster of my mind. I didn’t need to follow her, I thought. She would come back in a little while, and I could watch her get back in her car. She would make it home, and I could call her and ask her how her day was. Maybe she’d even tell me herself.

God, I was such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, but now I was here, and I couldn’t leave, either. This was the time she was most likely to be in danger, since the cemetery was relatively empty.

Just as that thought occurred to me, another car pulled in. it wouldn’t have mattered much to me, but the thing that followed caught my attention.

The woman inside the car climbed out and made a beeline to (y/n)’s car, peering into the windows and taking photos of the license plate. At first, I did nothing, trying to keep track of everything that was happening, noting the unfamiliar woman’s license plate number in turn.

But then she took off in the same direction my girlfriend had left in, and I realized that I couldn’t just wait here. This woman clearly knew her, and from the looks of it, it was not going to be a friendly encounter.  

This is why, I thought. This is why I made her promise.

I couldn’t just run out after her yet, so I followed as closely as I could without being clearly visible, relying on sounds, instead. But what I heard was somehow even more distressing than when I could see.

“What are you doing here?! You aren’t allowed to be here!” A scratchy, unfamiliar voice rang through the air. Even if I didn’t already know, her tone alone told me that a fight was about to follow.

I bit down on my tongue, trusting that (y/n) could handle herself. She’d done it before me, and she could do it now. The only thing worse than revealing my presence would be doing it while also discrediting her.

“Mrs. Loughton! I can explain!”

At least I finally had a name for the face, but that was about as far as my thoughts went before they turned to red. Because the only thing I could hear after that was the sound of skin against skin, and the gentle thud of someone hitting the ground.

“Get the hell out of here, you bitch!” The woman screeched, and by the time I came into view, I saw my girlfriend on her hands and knees, holding the very visible red mark on her face. Neither of them saw me, too caught up in each other to notice.

It was the panic on her face, the way she lifted both hands to cover her head when the woman grabbed a fistful of her hair that broke my silence.  

“Hey! Get away from her!” I shouted, running over to the two women. Mrs. Loughton released (y/n)’s hair, causing her to drop back onto her hands and knees while she looked up at me with an angry, frazzled stare.

“Spencer?!”

“Who the hell are you?” The woman spat, redirecting her anger towards me. I much preferred it this way.

“I’m a law enforcement agent, and you just assaulted someone.”

“Assault? Ha!” She laughed, talking over me as if she���d heard the speech a million times before. I got the impression this wasn’t the first time the two have had a showdown. “That’s funny, considering.”

“Spencer, please leave.” The fear overtook any other emotion, and the tears welled so quickly in her eyes it hurt my chest. I couldn’t leave. There was no way I could leave her on her knees in front of this woman.  

“Let me guess, are you one of her dad’s friends?” She sneered, but all I could hear was (y/n) continuing to plead.

“Spencer. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I couldn’t breathe, my chest heaving with unbridled rage, confusion, and something else I couldn’t even place.

“Oh I bet you are one of his friends. Always protecting her. You’re all a bunch of pathetic, power-hungry lowlifes.”

(Y/n) stood up now, neither of us paying any attention to the raving woman while I tried to help her up. “Please, I want to leave.” She pleaded, grabbing my hand so tightly that it trembled.

“Are you a murderer, too?”

“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, my arms wrapping possessively around (y/n) like I could shield her from everything that was happening. But I couldn’t, and I heard her soft sobs while she pulled on my shirt, now wet with her tears.

“That stupid, selfish little bitch knows exactly what she did, and she knows that she’s not allowed anywhere near here!” Her face was red, her arms waving and tears sprouting in her eyes while she ran out of breath. Then, deathly quiet, she pursed her lips and tried to bite her tongue. But she couldn’t, the words bursting through when she saw the way I held (y/n).

“If you really are a law enforcement agent, then get her the fuck out of here! She’s not allowed on this property!”

“She hasn’t done anything!”

It was the wrong thing to say, and she let me know swiftly and with full force.

“She’s the reason my son is dead!” She shrieked, stepping towards me with an accusing finger in my face. “It was her friends, her drugs, her horrible decisions and now my baby is gone!”

I hated this part. Because as much as I loved (y/n), it was impossible not to hear the absolute devastation in this woman’s voice. And the longer she talked, the more I understood what was happening. Not enough to argue back, but enough to feel sympathy for them both.

More than anything, I wanted to protect (y/n), but I didn’t know how. I held her tighter, trying to show her that she was safe. I’m afraid it had the opposite effect, and she started to fight my embrace.

“It should have been her! She should follow in her father’s footsteps and do the world a favor and...” She cut herself off, knowing the weight of her words and contemplating them a moment longer before making her decision. “And just fucking disappear!”

The shock of it all caused my arms to loosen – just barely. It was enough, though, and before I knew it (y/n) had burst from my arms, taking off at full speed through the headstones.

“(Y/n)!” I choked, going to run after her, but I was stopped one final time.

“Yeah, get the hell out of here.” The woman behind me softly sobbed, trembling as the fight left her. “Go protect her like you always do. They always do.”

I couldn’t stay on the thought; I’d have to come back to it later, because there were more pressing concerns for me than a stranger who’d just hurt the woman I loved. So I turned around and booked it after her just as she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the cover of the woods around the cemetery.

Naturally, she couldn’t stay on the level, manicured grass. My heart was pounding not just at the energy exerted to follow her, but from all the different things that could go wrong. She could fall, she could run into something, she could get lost.

But luckily, even the adrenaline couldn’t stop the pain in her stomach, and she’d barely gotten anywhere before I caught up to her. I loosely caught her wrist, pulling her gently back to me before she nearly collapsed in my arms.

“(Y/n), where do you think you’re going? You can’t be running like this! Especially not here; it’s way too dangerous!” I said through my labored breaths. Then we stopped, and she protested at my touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked calmer now, lifting her back onto her feet. “Did she hurt you?” When I went to lift her shirt to inspect her wound, she brought her hand down in a hard slap.

“Stop, Spencer! Just fucking stop! Don’t touch me! Get away from me!”

The venom dripped from her tongue and burned my skin, my hands jumping back away from her as I took a step back. All the negative emotions that I’d just watched her go through were growing and morphing into a painful anger, and it was all aimed at me.

I deserved it.

“Why the fuck are you even here?! I told you I wanted to be alone today, a-and now you’re what, y-you’re following me?!”

I wished I could just shut up, but the words flowed out of me like I had any right to be angry with her over a promise that didn’t even seem to matter anymore. “And it’s a good thing I did. That woman could have seriously hurt you!”

“Who cares!”

“I do!” My voice strained at the volume I used to match hers. Our angry shouting disrupted the wildlife and broke through the sounds of cars traveling on the highway on the other side of the trees. “You might not care about what happens to you, (y/n), but it matters to me!”

“Why the fuck are you yelling at me?!” And then the sniffles turned to outright sobs, her whole body shaking, her hands cradling her face while she struggled under the weight of everything that had happened so quickly.

I shouldn’t have come here, but I was glad I had. I wished none of this had happened. I just wanted to hold her, but she stepped away when I got closer, defensively covering her head. My heart shattered at the thought of her being scared of me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I said genuinely, my voice still breaking, but now at an acceptable volume. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling, I-I just… I got scared. I thought you were going to get hurt again and I—“

“Sometimes I’m going to get hurt, Spencer. I can’t put my life on hold for your comfort. I’m only twenty years old. I’m not ready to be a housewife waiting at home for you!” She was quick, stumbling over her words and waving her arms between us in the hopes it would force me to keep my distance.

I didn’t want to hurt her, I never wanted that. And right now, it was very obvious that’s exactly what I was doing.  “Of course. I want you to have a life, but you…”

Her hand was back on her stomach, and the action caused a sudden panic that overwhelmed the logic and sense. “You were shot!” I cried, “You almost died in my arms! I thought I was going to lose you, forever.”

She couldn’t reply yet, her lungs too busy trying to take in hungry breaths without irritating the hardly healed skin.

I clenched my eyes shut, unable to look at it any longer. “It’s been barely a month, (y/n). A-And you’re already sneaking around behind my back and putting yourself in danger and I don’t know how I’m supposed to just turn a blind eye to that.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” She panted; the words hardly audible. Her skin was damp with sweat from the pain that was obviously written all over her.

This time, when I stepped closer, she couldn’t move away. I didn’t hold her yet, opting instead to place one hand on her hip and the other on the side of her face. She sighed, resting her head against my hand. She said she didn’t want to talk to me, but the way she closed her eyes and her heartrate immediately calmed down with the simplest touch told me that she wanted nothing more than for me to pick her up and take her home.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from whatever the hell just happened out there, but you don’t have to do that.” I whispered, gently wiping away her tears with my thumb. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re just going to let it go?” I couldn’t decide what was more simultaneously heartbreaking and adorable, her pauses to sniffle, or the way she pouted as she spoke. “You aren’t going to ask me every night until you get an answer?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to trust me again, then yes. I’ll let it go.” I reassured her. She took the answer with an immense amount of relief, leaning forward to rest all of her body weight against me. I tried to stop her from falling too far or too hard, hoping to ease the pain that was already wrecking her.

But she didn’t even seem to notice, rubbing her face against my shirt and further soaking it with tears. I just wanted her to be okay, and I wished I could do it faster. For now, all I could do was pet the back of her head, rocking just a bit to the side in a soothing manner.

We stayed like that for a long time, and I occasionally pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering soft apologies to her and telling her that I loved her, no matter what. Eventually, she responded, her voice filled with guilt and shame again.

“I was going to tell you eventually.”

“I believe you.” I immediately responded, pulling her back to look at me to know that I was telling her the truth. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She gave the tiniest, saddest nod back.

“I would never try to hurt you.” I promised, earning a slanted smile. I mirrored it back to her, which made her laugh.

The sounds of the highway paired with the rustling of the leaves, and the two of us shared a quiet moment of understanding. Because I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I was glad I was there, and she felt very much the same.

“I’d like to go home, please.”

“Okay.” I agreed, taking her hand and maneuvering the woods that didn’t seem nearly as dangerous when her hand was in mine. “Let’s go home.”

—————————————————

“Hotch, I need to ask you for a favor.”

The man didn’t even look up from his desk, and I could tell from his posture that he wasn’t in the mood for the conversation he expected to follow. I couldn’t blame him; I hadn’t been the easiest employee to have for the past couple of weeks.

“Reid, we’ve talked about this. You either have to come back completely or—“

“No, sorry, this… isn’t about that.” I corrected, trying to ease the tension before it got any worse. Unfortunately, he still seemed combative, although there was now a guilt mixed in the frustration.

“I need to talk to you about (y/n)’s father.” I clarified, my voice breaking mid-sentence. I cleared my throat, trying to make eye contact despite the nerves gnawing at the little self-esteem I had.

But after a brief moment of thought, Hotch waved me forward, gesturing to the seat in front of him. He shoved the papers to the side and I wondered what it was he was working so hard on. I had a feeling it had to do with her, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“Does she know you’re asking me about this?”

It was the first question, and although I fully expected him to ask it, I still choked on an answer. He sighed deeply, his hands folding on his desk. He wasn’t able to look at me, either.

“Reid…”

“I-I’m really worried about her.” I needed him to hear the desperation in my voice, to feel just how scared I really was. I didn’t want to come running to him for every little thing involving her — he’d already done so much for her just fending off the prosecutors.

I knew we were both tired, but I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his tone when he talked about her that she meant something to him, too. Even if it wasn’t nearly as much, he’d known her when she was a kid.

Well, I guess to Hotch, she still was. I hated to exploit that knowledge, but I needed answers now. Before something else went horribly wrong. So I broke into a rant, my hands running through my hair and down my legs as I tried to prevent them from turning to fists at the memory.

“The other day she did something and she got into a physical altercation with another woman a-and she told (y/n) that she should follow her father’s footsteps and…” The word caught in my throat. He narrowed his eyes, and I suspected he already knew what I was about to say.

“Disappear.”

Across from the desk, he tensed, bowing his head to look at the files lining the surface in front of him. Every single one of them contained a plethora of information about someone’s family. Someone’s everything.

“What did she mean, Hotch?”

“Reid, the information in that file is not only classified, it’s extremely personal. I’m sure she doesn’t know all the details herself. I think it’s best for you to hear it from her.” He explained it so robotically, I could tell he didn’t want to be saying it. The way his jaw clenched told me that there was a lot he wished he could discuss about whatever the hell happened.

It must be a lonely way to live, I thought. And then I thought of her, carrying the weight of uncertainty on top of whatever Hotch held. She was strong, but she was young. She had been even younger then, and she wouldn’t have had the one man who’d taught her to survive to teach her how to handle what came next.

I wrung my hands together. I didn’t mean to be manipulative, but tears stung at my eyes. They were real, and they were persuasive.

“I just need to know that she’s safe.” I begged. “But your reaction isn’t telling me that at all. In fact, it’s telling me the exact opposite.”

Now that I’d started, the words wouldn’t stop.

“If my girlfriend is in danger, I need to know. It’s not like I care about the mission or whatever her father was wrapped up in — I-I just want to know what happened to him. This woman knew, so apparently it’s not that classified!”

My voice grew in volume, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I could feel his face morph into a scowl even as I clenched my eyes tightly shut. There was so much I hated about this, but nothing more than knowing that despite everything I’ve done, I still couldn’t reach out to her and help her when she needed me.

I was still failing her, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Reid, stop.”

Hotch must have been able to read my mind, because something inside of him also snapped, the tension releasing from his shoulders and his jaw. I wondered if it was because he trusted me not to give it away, or if it was because he trusted her.

Either way, he spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you has never been confirmed, and should not be shared outside of this room. Even with her.”

Sitting up with a straight back and a heavy swallow, I nodded.

“I understand.”

—————————————————

| Part 17 |

[whumpersdump]

Project Rebirth - CH5: The Container

Toby content! It’s shorter than usual though, though not by much.

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TW: past non-con surgery / sensory deprivation (not to Toby, non-graphic) / conditioned whumpee (Toby) / pet whump / lab whump / again most of these are non-graphic / restrained whumpee (not Toby) / implied future punishment (brief, non-graphic) / implied past punishment (non-graphic) implied past torture (one sentence) / collar mention / unconscious whumpee (not Toby) / dehuminization / drugging mention

Toby’s POV. The first two stages are complete, but they are barely more than preparation. The third stage, that’s where it really begins.

Toby cradled his wrist as he ran it under the faucet’s cold stream. One of Whumper’s guests had gotten angry with him. They’d grabbed his arm and squeezed it, twisted it until the whimper he’d tried to hold back like he’d been taught found its way out.

He would have to tell Whumper he angered them later. Most pets had to do it immediately, but Whumper had a special time for it. Right before bedtime, when Whumper brought him to the pens. Whumper always said Toby was at his most honest when he was tired. Toby was always honest, but he didn’t tell Whumper that.

He’d have to tell him he thought it though. He wasn’t looking forward to that either, but it was his own fault. That’s why he still had green on his collar, not a full blue. Toby knew the consequences for angering a guest of Whumper’s. He’d be in the dark, thoroughly locked pens for at least a week once the subject was in the container. If not worse, since he’d entertained the thought that he knew himself better than Whumper did. Either way, if Whumper wished it, he deserved it.

He’d escorted the guests to the daycare like Whumper ordered. As were the rules, he didn’t go near it. Whumper hoped his guests would leave their pets in his care someday, so Toby wasn’t allowed to meet them. He was better off alone anyway. He wasn’t a social pet, as Whumper told him.

Pet wasn’t even the right word, he’d even said. Toby had basked in the feeling of warmth the compliment had given him. He was an assistant. He wasn’t the same as other pets, he wasn’t raised to be anyone’s friend. He was raised to help, and nothing else.

He was supposed to come to the container room after leaving the guests, so he did.

They were already moving Subject One into the container when he came in.

The container was a large glass tube that hung in the air horizontally, a foot above the ground. Six large chains held it up. It could swing around a few inches when you touched it, but Toby wasn’t allowed to. He stayed behind the red line Whumper had painted on the floor. There were a lot of red lines in the building. He wasn’t allowed to cross them without being restrained. Whumper didn’t trust him yet. Not until he earned a double blue. That was Toby’s theory, at least. Maybe pets in general couldn’t be trusted there. But he was better than that.

Subject One was asleep, which didn’t happen much. When they did sleep they still made a lot of noise, but not this time. It amazed him. It had only been five days.

“They’re on more drugs than we’d give anyone else,” Whumper said when he caught him staring. “It won’t be long before they wear off, but the implant will replace their function in a way even I wouldn’t be able to defy.”

The subject wore a white suit that covered their entire body from their neck all the way to their toes and the tips of their fingers. Toby knew it. He’d tested it. He watched them put it on, too. The fabric was weird. After a while, it was like it was never there. It was thin, too. Whumper had thrown buckets of water over him and it soaked trough immediately. But it didn’t stick like wet clothes normally did.

Only the subject’s head wasn’t covered by the suit, but the plastic blindfold that covered half their face, and the mouth guard that kept the tube in place still hid most of it.

Dozens of wires and a number of tubes ran from the holes in it. They were what would keep the subject alive, calm, and painless. Toby was surprised when Whumper told him about that last part. Pain was important in training, but not to Whumper. Not with this subject. They never responded to it before.

The suit wasn’t all that was necessary though. Whumper slid two plastic casts over the subject’s wrists and ankles. They had a thick padding in them, but they were hard on the outside. Strong. Not standard issue. Whumper was still afraid the subject would defy him.

Whumper flicked his fingers. “All right, let’s put them in.”

Whumper and a few scientists attached a number of hooks to the loops that were attached to the suit. A small crane lifted them up, suspending them above the opened container. Whumper clicked the subject’s wrists to each other, and did the same to their ankles. The casts had hoops on them, that Whumper used to connect Whumpees wrists to their knees, so they’d be drawn up to their chest. Their ankles he connected to a special string at the bottom of the container. It was enough for them to move a little, but they couldn’t stretch out. Couldn’t touch the walls around them.

He connected a similar string to the hoop on the back of the mask. Then, he tied a strap around their waist which was also connected to the bottom of the container. That would prevent them from floating all the way to the top when the water came in.

“Toby turn on the water please.”

Toby moved over to the faucet—which Whumper had placed just outside the red line—and opened it. The container started filling with water.

“Toby stop,” Whumper commanded when it was just full enough for Subject One to float without touching the bottom of the container.

Whumper undid the hooks, and made sure the tubes all connected to the machinery behind the container, through a few waterproof holes. He closed the lid, and nodded at Toby.

“Continue.”

Water filled the rest of the container, until the subject floated in the middle of it. The container was big. No matter how much they moved, they could never feel it. It wasn’t realistic, Whumper had told him, but it worked much better than a tight space. Especially with this subject. Touch would be the key, Whumper had said. First he let them get used to it, that was what Toby was for. Safe touches, in a pet’s mind. Unhealthy for a pet like that one, but necessary. After that, he took it away. For five days, then another nine months. Not just touch from others, but also objects.

Whumper turned to one of the scientists. “Turn on the implant, take them off all sedation except for the stuff that keeps them calm. We’ll ween them off those in a few weeks. Make sure they don’t feel the machinery, as we discussed. This has to feel as natural as possible.

It didn’t look natural. Training was never pretty, but this was new to Toby. Whumper had explained it all, but to see it with his own eyes…

As Whumper’s team went to work, he stepped over to Toby. “I should have expected such technology would be too impressive for a pet to take in. Don’t worry, they’ll wake up slowly. It won’t hurt, they won’t be scared right away. This stage is meant to calm the improper habits and thoughts these pets keep. It’ll help them be a better pet.”

Toby nodded. Of course. Help them. His job was to help them. He was almost perfect, he was the only other pet who could.

Whumper tilted his head and looked down on him. “It’s late. And I’ve heard you have something to tell me.”

Almost perfect.

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @panic-and-chaos

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you’re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

[bagelbright-tok]

Aspire To be

Hi honey!! I saw that your request were open and I had an idea. I really liked the imagine about Malcolm Bright and having an aunt. I was wondering if you could do more of that, but maybe this time Malcolm does know her and they actually like each other and maybe she helps him on a case instead or with Martin? If not it’s completely okay, I love your work tho!! Thanks sweets ❤❤

Requested By: @atjafshelby

__

A/N: Thank you so much for your support! I really appreciate your comments and request! That aunt fiction is one of my least popular fics. I hardly expected anyone to enjoy it and even be inspired by it! Again, thank you! I decided to do a similar thing I did for that last imagine. This is a one-shot and does not really correlate with any other Prodigal Son episode. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for your patience as well! I apologize if it seems sloppy at the end. I just wanted to get this out for you and tended to get sidetracked. _

Finally getting themselves a line of suspects for this crime, Malcolm realizes he might need more than his own profiling skills. Malcolm also has a person in mind who could help… Gil doesn’t agree with Malcolm’s decision, especially when the profiler’s mind has been altered recently. How could Malcolm Bright not go to the person that inspired him?

Malcolm Bright/Whitly x Aunt!Reader [Platonic]

Word Count: 3289 Warning(s): Mentions of murder, mind fog, insomnia, mentions of trauma, attempted murder, drug abuse, swearing, did not double check anything __

Some Good Things in Life __

“Whaddya got kid?” Gil nodded towards Malcolm, hands on hip, and a grin plastered on his already smug face. Gil was already confident in Malcolm’s ability. This would be a piece of cake for the profiler.

Malcolm shook his head. He was confused. This murder took two weeks to have suspects. Even then, they only had four suspects. There was something wrong, though. Malcolm couldn’t get a read on any of them. Their tones and words led Malcolm to many different directions. Malcolm also did not have the right state of mind, having skipped almost a week’s worth of sleep. “Nothing..”

Even he was surprised by his incompetence.

Gil lightly extended his head out towards Malcolm, eyes wide and mouth agape. “What?” He crossed his arms and returned his head to his shoulders. Gil’s eyebrows were now knitted together in concern and were no longer widened. “What do you mean?”

“I… I can’t get a read on them.” Malcolm finally admitted, his shoulders falling down in defeat. He left out a deep sigh and brought his hands to his eyes to rub. Why couldn’t he think straight? “It’s like my mind is just- just covered in fog.” Malcolm motioned to his head, wildly using his index of his right hand to press into his temple.

Gil sighed, looked down at the floor, and unfolded his arms. Taking a few steps towards the NYPD Profiler, Gil placed his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Go home, kid. It’s late and you need to sleep.” Gil was always the father figure that Malcolm needed. Malcolm understood the lieutenant’s concern, but couldn’t help not sleeping. Especially as of late.

Malcolm couldn’t say no. He shrugged his shoulder and peered into Gil’s eyes with his own tired and hazy blue ones. He nodded lightly, closing his mouth and shaping it into a half smile. “Alright..”

*** And with that, the insomniac ventured restlessly to his humble abode. Despite his hazy mind, he drove himself back to his place. On the way over, going through New York’s evening traffic, Malcolm had an idea. Recklessly, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he reached who he wanted. Tapping and putting the phone up to his ear, waiting for them to answer, he shook his leg anxiously. “Hello?” The voice came through, asking curiously.

“Hey! Long time no talk.” Malcolm was smiling, but the person on the other end couldn’t possibly see it. However, it was obvious that they could hear his happiness to be talking to them. “Malcolm? Hey! Where the hell did you disappear to?” They chuckled. “Thought there was a new Bermuda triangle only taking the cool people.” They stated sarcastically.

Malcolm laughed at their joke, shaking his head. “No. I actually got back in New York a couple of weeks ago. Sorry I forgot to tell you.” Malcolm cleared his throat and before the person on the other end of the call could respond, he continued. “Anyways, I could use some help…” “O-Oh? Help? Of course, what do you need?” Malcolm could hear them move from one spot to another. “Some… Some advice. You are still a body language specialist, right?” “Yeah. Need me to do some interrogating?” They chuckled, joking.

“Uh- Yes. Yes, actually..”

“Oh-”

“Could you meet me at my place? I’ll send you the address. If you get there before me, you can let yourself in. There’s a spare key buried in the plant outside.” Malcolm explained, stopping at yet another red light. Traffic had been bad due to another accident happening nearby.

“Of course!” It was obvious that Malcolm and this person were besties and hadn’t encountered one another in a long while. “I’ll get my bag and head out once I have the address.” “Thank you, so much. I’ll see you in a bit.” Malcolm gave a quite breathy chuckle. “Cya!” And with that, the call ended. Malcolm felt a little better. His mood improved, for sure. Malcolm’s shoulders were no longer held up but instead were slouched down. His neutral and tired face was now a happier tired face. Malcolm took note of how he would just have to tell Gil when he got home that he’d be getting some help. Help from someone they both knew. ***

Damn this headache. Malcolm could feel a dull pain in his head as he entered his home. Despite the pain being dull, he felt it making him weaker and even slightly dizzy. Malcolm simply shook the pain away and shut the door behind him. He tried to reach the door, but couldn’t. When he looked behind himself to see why, the door was already shut. His eyes burrowed in confusion. Again, he shook away the confusion and began to text Gil about what he was doing. Now, though, Malcolm couldn’t just shake off whatever was happening to him. He felt nauseous and he felt out of breath. He tried getting back to his phone to call Gil instead. Malcolm instead found that his vision had blurred. He blinked and blinked, even rubbed his eyes, but his blurred vision only got worse. He began to panic now. Something was definitely wrong. Malcolm tried to identify what could be going on, but still, his mind was elsewhere. Malcolm could barely even hear as someone entered his home.

“Malcolm?” The familiar voice could barely be heard as it echoed in his house and in his head. “Malcolm!”

This exclamatory statement of his name was not that of excitement. It was of concern, confusion, and despair. As far as Malcolm knew, he was standing. As far as his visitor was concerned, he was on the ground, unconscious. ***

“What did you do?” Gil asked angrily and accusatorily. He pointed at [Y/N], who responded by leaning back away from his finger. “Me?! Excuse you. I called an ambulance! Maybe next time, I shouldn’t?” [Y/N] argued back, leaning forward into Gil’s finger and raising her hands to her sides, palms up and fingers spread out. Her face was scrunched with anger. Her usual glowing and calm [E/C] orbs were now burning a hole into Gil. Her graying [H/C] hair was standing up due to the sheer frustration she was feeling. This wouldn’t be the first time someone accused her of something horrific due to her past. [Y/N] Bright [L/N]. Also known as [Y/N] Whitly, younger sister to Dr. Martin Whitly. In other words, Malcolm’s favorite aunt and the individual he had called for help in the case. The lady that had found him unconscious in his own home and called authorities. It was because of [Y/N] that Malcolm was in a hospital and not dead. It wasn’t just Gil there for Malcolm, there was also Jessica and Ainsley. Jessica had refused to talk to [Y/N], she never understood how or why Malcolm had taken a favorability to her. Ainsley wasn’t anything but rude to her, and made it clear she did not like her. Summary; All of [Y/N]’s fans were gathered in one place where they were called in an emergency because someone dear to them had almost died. “What were you even doing in Malcolm’s place?” Ainsley’s hollow eyes stared at [Y/N] with pure hatred. Like someone with unlimited darts, trying to get a high score.

“He called me to come over. Sent me his address and told me about the spare key in some weird ass plant outside his place.” [Y/N] swiftly explained herself, keeping her arms open. Her feet however, were closed and pointing away from both Gil and Ainsley. She really did not want to be there, being questioned. “He wanted me to help with some interrogating.”

“You-?” Gil erected his index again at [Y/N], now eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re the help Malcolm called for?” “Why would anyone go to you for help?” “I feel extremely uncomfortable right now!” [Y/N] declared, slapping her hands down to her sides. “I am just here to help with whatever Malcolm needs!” “Just drop it you three!” Jessica finally whisper yelled at them. “My son could have died and you are worried about-.. Her.”

The disdain in her voice as she referred to [Y/N] really set it in for the body language specialist. Nothing she could say would make them think any better of her. Not even if Malcolm were to explain the same thing she did. So, [Y/N] easily decided it would be easier to just sit down and give up the arguing. She felt like a kid once again, forced to keep quiet when faced with authority. She hated it. Gil would never allow for her to help unless Malcolm really made a good pitch to the lieutenant. Then again, when would Malcolm wake up? *** Malcolm was given a diagnosis fairly quickly. Carbon Monoxide poisoning that had been going on for over a week. It was a miracle he had gone so long without anyone noticing the symptoms. Despite the supposed long sleep he was to be put under, Malcolm found a way to wake himself up with his own brain. Waking up with a loud scream as a nurse ran out to get a doctor, and Gil and [Y/N] rushed in with concern. “Malcolm!” Both older individuals shouted at the once unconscious profiler. While the relief was mutual, so was the concern.

“Gil? [Y/N]? Where am I? What happened? How-” Malcolm was confused but mostly scared as well. One moment he was home and the next he was isolated by white walls and repetitive beeping.

[Y/N] made the first move. She steadily and smoothly moved closer to Malcolm’s bedside. She took a deep and obvious breath, straightening her back and lifting her hands with her as she inhaled. A similar action was taken during the exhale; obvious, she lowered herself back onto her feet, and lowered her hands. Although Malcolm was not having a panic attack, it could escalate and [Y/N] wasn’t having it. Gil followed afterwards. Malcolm mimicked [Y/N] in taking deep breaths and calming down. “Are you okay, Malcolm?” [Y/N] asked in a calmer voice.

“Yeah. I mean, I feel okay.” Malcolm buried his face into his hands. “Was I poisoned?”

With his brain working fine, he was able to remember his symptoms. It was unnatural.

“Yeah, in a sense.” Gil responded this time. “A week long exposure to carbon monoxide.”

“A week?” Malcolm removed his hands from his face and peered at Gil and [Y/N]. “Isn’t that around the time this case started?”

Now both Gil and [Y/N] were horrified. What was thought to be an accident, a simple leak in the home, now was a potential case of attempted murder. Whoever was the murderer in their case, knew Malcolm would be a problem and so tried removing him as an obstacle. [Y/N] and Gil took a glance at each other. Despite their… awkward relationship, they knew they had to work together on this one. Malcolm couldn’t leave the hospital, and couldn’t work on the case. His life was in danger and the safest place would be where he was.

***

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” Gil told [Y/N] with a threatening tone.

“Why not two?” [Y/N] chuckled, entering the observation room sat right next to the interview room. Gil just gave a harsh squint. “Not a time for jokes, got it.”

“It was hard to get the suspects back. We’d released them last night because we had them held for too long.” Gil changed the subject swiftly, viewing into the room where they had the suspects. “We were only able to get them back in because Malcolm almost died last night, when he released them all.”

“It’s clear that all of them are upset that they are back. No profiling is needed for that.” [Y/N] noted this behaviour. “All of them are anxious and nervous. Crossed arms, tapping feet, rapid blinking.”

“All of them are suspicious?” Gil pondered curiously.

“Not necessarily. They are just nervous about being back. The idea of being falsely accused looms over them.” [Y/N] continued to scan the room, finally noticing some odd behaviour. She pointed at a man slightly separated from everyone else. “He, however, is a lot more confident than everyone else.”

“His arms are crossed too.” Gil pointed out, looking at [Y/N] with suspicion.

“Yes, but he is leaning against the wall. He is more relaxed. His lips are slightly parted, unlike everyone else’s compressed or pursed lips.” [Y/N] began her analyzing out loud, forgetting anyone was in the room. “His breathing patterns are very alike to everyone’s. Their breathings are picked up due to their nervousness. His picked up pace is because of excitement, though.”

“He’s leaning against a wall. How in the hell did you get all of that off of him?” Gil was just as curious as he would be if it were Malcolm profiling. It was just as mind boggling as when he profiled Carter Berkhead.

“A magician never reveals his secrets, Gil.” [Y/N] chuckled. “Was Malcolm in the interrogation room when they were all interrogated?”

“Yeah. He wanted to be close to profile.” Gil answered, not as confused now knowing that every question and answer would help.

“Splendid. This will make it far easier.” [Y/N]’s [E/C] orbs glimmered in amusement. Her smile was one that Gil had seen before. It was Malcolm’s smile, but it was one he’d seen on Martin’s face too. “I need you to repeat what you did yesterday. Question them in the same order with the same questions.”

Gil nodded. Just as he was warming up to her, some thought came in and set him back to his place. First and foremost, officers came and rounded everyone up. The interrogation began again. This time, it was just Dani, JT, and Gil. Malcolm wasn’t there. If [Y/N] was correct, the one she was suspect of most would give off more of a reaction than the others. Answers would likely remain the same from each person as well. They all want to get out as soon as possible. If Malcolm’s current profile was correct, the killer was arrogant and would show it. If the killer saw that Malcolm wasn’t there, they’d have some sort of mention or bodily reaction to this.

In the case scenario that she was wrong, [Y/N] was sure to make note of everyone’s reactions. Most did not even acknowledge Malcolm’s absence. Their moods had remained the same, anxious and nervous. Finally, it came to the man that [Y/N] came to know as James Lukai. Most of his answers remain the same, worded slightly different than before. [Y/N] compared his last interview, to this interview. The first showcased this man as nervous and anxious. Now, he wasn’t as much anymore. He looked around, as if to make sure his suspicions were right. He gave a quick smirk when he saw that Malcolm wasn’t there. His answers had remained mostly the same, but the tone had drastically changed. It was clear as night and day, it was this man. Just to prove a point further, [Y/N] straightened herself out and left the observation room. Much to Gil’s dismay, she entered the interrogation room afterwards.

“Heya Gil! Sorry I’m late. The call to replace Malcolm was just too soon!” [Y/N] announced with a large grin on her face.

Gil looked at [Y/N], only to respond by rubbing his face. “Don’t let it happen again.” He played along.

The man in question- James- was now shocked. “I thought you didn’t have a profiler anymore.”

“And what would make you say that, James?” [Y/N] immediately jumped on it. “Malcolm is just taking a little break. Family business.”

“What? He-?” James caught himself before he could say anything more.

“You’re too obvious, James.” [Y/N]’s smile immediately dropped.

“What’re you doing, [Y/N]” Gil questioned, only to get an answer through the raising of the lady’s hand to silence him.

“Want to know how we know, James?” [Y/N] confidently asked, not waiting a moment for his answer. “You are far too confident for this. You thought you had gotten rid of Malcolm, the only one who would have caught you.”

The man was speechless. He was caught. He rested his elbows on the table and put his hands through his brown hair. He was hunched, unsure of what to say now.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Gil wasn’t angry, but just extremely confused.

“Caught the bad guy. My job, Gil.” As confident as before, she exited the room.

Soon after, James confessed to the murders and the attempt on Malcolm’s life. Another day saved by [Y/N] Bright [L/N].

***

“Did you get him?” Was the first thing to exit Malcolm’s mouth that night when [Y/N] went to visit him. Fortunately for Malcolm, he had gotten the all clear, so was able to return home.

“Nice to see you too.” [Y/N] chuckled, entering his home. “Yeah. It was obvious. That poisoning really fucked with your brain if you couldn’t see it.”

“Speaking of which, the place was aired out and my heater was fixed.” Malcolm shut his door. “Inspectors had a nifty device and gave the okay.”

“That’s great!” [Y/N] clapped her hands together. “You plan on trying to get murdered again any time soon?”

Malcolm chuckled again, and sat down at his counter. “Ah, no. I don’t plan on it.”

“Good. Shouldn’t have to attend your funeral when I’m older than you.” [Y/N] glided over and sat with him at the counter. “So- Malcolm Bright. When did you change your name?”

Malcolm gave a small, “oh,” and nodded his head. “Several years back when I went to Quantico. You know, to become a profiler..”

Though [Y/N] knew the story, Malcolm felt obligated to tell her how much she inspired him.

“Couldn’t think of a name until the lady there suggested going with someone who I aspire to be. Then I remembered.. You.” His smile was soft and genuine.

“Really?” She smiled back, surprised by her effect on Malcolm. “I.. I’d never guessed I’d have that sort of influence.”

“I hardly say this, but you’re probably one of the more normal and stable members of this family.” Malcolm gave a light laugh, instigating a laugh from [Y/N] as well. “You prove to me that there are some good things in life.”

“I think there is more than just me that does that, Malcolm.” [Y/N] smirked. “You have all those folk at the NYPD! You have Gil, Dani, JT, and Edrisa.”

“Of course. They’re my friends. I trust them.” Malcolm explained. “But you were the first. You helped a lot when Dr. Whitly was arrested. I still remember that day. Even when mother yelled at you, it didn’t stop you from helping me.”

[Y/N] could only nod lightly. “Yeah, Yeah.. I- I remember that day too. I remember the days before and after that day too. I felt like I had to apologize for my brother. He couldn’t be there, so I tried to be. But Jessica never had a good opinion on me, even before Martin was arrested.” She chuckled at that sentiment. “Then Gil got caught up in all the gossip that I had something to do with Martin. At least Jess was skeptical towards all of that.”

It was dead silent after that until Malcolm decided to clear the air. “Anyways, you want some water, or something?”

“Sure!”

Boy. What an odd and bizarre family.

___ E N D

A/N: So sorry for taking so long! Hope you enjoyed it. I had a bit of a hard time trying to get an end for it. Sorry if it is abrupt.

[maysbanks]

are you bored yet. (jj maybank)

hey everyone ! basically this is my first time writing for jj, or anyone from obx in general. this is a side acc from my main acc that i made purely bc this fic idea came to me when watching obx and after listening to the wallows on repeat for weeks. idk i just thought the song was kinda fitting for jj, and im a sucker for soft ! jj with a friends to lovers arc, so here this is. it's quite a long one btw, the words just kept flowing so i apologise in advance. also i have a few more fic ideas based off some songs so if you like this and are interested in more pls let me know ! im probably gonna be writing a lot more for this boy bc i adore him. anyways i hope u enjoy !

warnings: features swearing, mention of sex, underage drinking, drug use and violence.

summary: based lightly off the song 'are you bored yet?' by the wallows ft clairo, reader and jj delve deeper into their relationship, taking the steps further into becoming something more than best friends. however worries and doubts begin to plague their minds, as they fear their relationship of becoming just a memory.

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

"What are you doing later?" You looked towards Kie who'd directed the question towards you, her eyes squinting from the sun that was grinning down at your forms from where you were both seated on the sand.

"Dunno," you shrugged your shoulders. "Probably hanging out with J or something."

Kiara scoffed, a mocking look taking over the features of her face as her head turned towards yours, your eyebrows raising at the sly smirk on her lips. "What?" You questioned, narrowing your eyes when all she did was laugh. You shifted in your place, body moving from laying on your back to on your stomach, figuring it was about time to switch positions for your tan anyway. "Seriously Kie, what're you laughing about?"

She shifted along with you, only laying on her right side so she could face you head on, her hand propping her head up from the ground. She was still grinning. "JJ," she said simply. You raised your eyebrows at her once more, seemingly not understanding what she was trying to get at. "What's going on with you two?" Kie pushed on when you didn't respond, her own eyebrows inching further up her forehead.

In the distance you could hear the boys' screams, their commotion coming from the water you had passed on entering. You could hear JJ taunting John B from where you lay, Pope laughing along, and the splashes that you could only assume were also coming from them. You never spared them a glance, though from the corner of your eye could see their figures and indeed the loud splashes of water were coming from them, and you were certain JJ was holding John B underneath the water.

"Nothing's going on," you said in response to Kie's question, rolling your eyes playfully at her exclaim of 'oh c'mon!'. "What? It's the truth. Nothing is going on, not really."

Kie furrowed her brows. "What do you mean by 'not really'? Did something happen between you two?" She prodded.

You shrugged, because in all honesty you couldn't say much of anything about your relationship with JJ. You were just as unsure about it all as Kie and more than likely the rest of the gang were (because if Kie had picked up on it than surely Pope and John B had too, and you were kind of freaking about it.) and had no idea what to say in her line of questioning. Of course you wanted to talk about it, you and the Pogues never kept secrets from each other - but was it really a secret when they technically knew about it anyway, and was it really a secret when you and JJ hadn't even spoken about keeping it a secret too? Your mind raced, and you figured it was easier to just shrug it off for the time being. Kie would no doubt ask again, and you hoped you had the answers by the next time she (or someone else) would.

"He's my best friend," you'd decided on saying. From the corner of your eye, you could see the guys approaching. "We've been close since we were like, ten. We've always been the same."

Except now the two of you held hands under the table and kissed in the safety of your rooms, among other things. That part of your relationship was fairly new though, and so you decided against saying anything until you could work out exactly what was going on between you and JJ - because you had no clue, and weren't even sure that JJ knew himself. It just sort of happened, the line being crossed over from friends to lovers in the blink of an eye. One minute you'd never dare to give in to the temptation of JJ Maybank's heavenly sinful lips, and the next the pair of you were sharing a bed almost every night.

Nothing much had changed though, in regards to your friendship. JJ and you had always been close, always intimate in your touches. Always beside each other, rarely without the other. You were an unstoppable duo from the minute you met. Just somehow, along the line, over the years, your friendship had turned into more. Each touch became longer, each glance would linger, and something had shifted. It was inevitable, you supposed. Nobody was ever really that close with someone without feelings getting involved at some point.

The guys were a lot closer now, and Kie spared them a glance before looking back towards you. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do." Was all she said before the sun that was earlier shining down on you was blocked by the trio of tall guys that smiled at the pair of you. Kie sat up, smiling as Pope took a seat beside her on her towel. "Have fun out there?"

"Oh, tons," came the voice that belonged to the person you were talking about not a minute ago. JJ smirked down at you, blonde hair dripping wet on his forehead and golden tanned chest on full show. You admired the view behind your sunglasses and sent a grin in his direction when he seemed to notice. "You checking me out there, babe?"

You laughed as he did a little shimmy, rolling your eyes as you looked at him over the rim of your glasses. "What would you do if I was, Maybank?" You played along, smirking when you heard John B let out a gag from somewhere beside you. JJ smiled back, and squatting down in front of your form he'd grabbed hold of your feet, laughing when you squealed. Tugging so that you were laying on your back rather than your front, his sea blue eyes gazed down your body, unknowingly leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The feeling you shared with JJ was unlike any other, nothing or nobody could come close to topping it. It was unexplainable, the feeling of absolute longing for him to just be there forever. You couldn't ever imagine a life without him in it, and that thought both scared and excited you.

JJ stared down at you, tongue peeking from his mouth to wet his pink lips as he looked. You felt hot all over and you knew it wasn't because of the sun. "Things only you could imagine sweetheart," he taunted from above you, knowing fine well that what you could imagine he'd probably already done to you. You smirked back, feeling a thrill shoot through you because the pair of you knew this and the remaining three of your group had no idea, or so you believed. This new relationship, this unspoken thing between the two of you was simply yours, and somewhere in the future you feared you'd both come to regret it, whatever it was, but in the moments of the present you knew neither of you could find it in yourselves to actually care.

And so you both smiled at each other like the world around you didn't exist, and for a couple of seconds you could pretend it didn't, JJ moving so he was seated behind you with your body seated between his legs and your back against his chest. Sat there, surrounded by your friends though almost oblivious to their presence as JJ's hands rested on your skin, his breath on your neck. You leaned into him, and smiled when he placed a discreet kiss to your shoulder.

Locking eyes with him, you grinned. The burst of happiness and content when he grinned back was almost unbearable, and in that moment you knew you never wanted whatever it was that you two shared to end.

It was a few days later when JJ showed up at your window, his face bloody and bruised, his form weak as he pulled himself into your bedroom. You didn't need to ask twice about who'd caused the damage, your body and mind going into autopilot as you hurried from your bed and grabbed hold of him, JJ grunting as he fell into you, his hand clutching desperately at his side.

"Shit, JJ," you'd cursed as you helped him land on your bed, hands instantly grabbing at his face and assessing the damage that had been left by his father. There was cuts along his brow line, his eye was bruised and already swollen shut, his bottom lip bust open and oozing blood. Your thumbs swiped along his cheeks, being careful of the injuries, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes at the sight of him. You blinked them away as quickly as you could, he didn't need to see you being so upset in that moment. And besides, you had bigger issues like getting him cleaned up like you had done too many times before. "Stay here, okay. I'm gonna go get the first aid kit."

JJ only grunted, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room to get the kit, your mind reeling. It was no secret about JJ's father and his years of abuse towards his own son, and you'd seen him beaten so badly so many times before, but it never got any easier. Each time it happened JJ would wound up at your house, and each time you would clean him up, making sure his wounds were tended to and making him as comfortable as possible as he slept next to you, most nights with his head resting on your chest as you soothed him to sleep with whispers of reassurance that you were there and that you loved him. He would fall asleep with tears staining his cheeks and you would cry yourself to sleep afterwards too, wishing that could just take away all his pain, wishing that you could do more, wishing that JJ had a better life than what he was given, because there was no-one that deserved it more.

You sniffed and forced your tears away, trying to focus on the task at hand. It didn't take long to locate the first aid kit and within a minute you were back in your bedroom, where JJ lay, staring up at your ceiling with his chest moving up and down in a motion that proved he was trying to hold his own tears in. Your heart broke at the sight, and you bit down on your wobbling lip as you moved towards him. His eyes met yours when you were close enough, stood in front of him on your bed. You smiled softly.

"Hey, honey," you soothed as he slowly sat up, grimacing at the obvious pain from his side as he did so. Despite his pain, he smirked back at you.

"Hi, baby."

Stepping closer, effectively between his legs, you smiled as his hands wound around and grabbed at your legs, almost as if he was grounding himself, focusing all his attention onto you. You took a moment to take him in as you pressed the wet rag you'd also grabbed on his face, beginning to clean the cut on his eyebrow. It wasn't too deep, thank god, you thought. You feared for the day where one cut might be too deep and one blow too strong, and the thought of JJ, strong and hot headed and impulsive and passionate, might not being able to drag himself out of the house of hell and getting to anyone for help, to you, to John B, to Pope or Kie, scared the shit out of you to put it simply. JJ was so strong, but there was only so much he could take, and you dreaded the day when that would come. You could only hope it never, and in the meantime do your best to prevent it. You let out a shaky breath as you continued to clean the blood from his face, gently dabbing at his torn lip as he hissed. "I'm sorry hon," you murmured, feeling your gut twist at the sight of him in pain.

"I'm okay," he breathed out, only it was shaky and you both knew it to be a lie. You said nothing though, not wanting to start an argument that night. You'd had countless in situations like these, where you'd tell him he needs to get away from his dad and he'd tell you its not that easy and that nothing fucking is on this island, and you'd try and tell him you understand that but you hate seeing him like that, beaten to a pulp, sometimes barely even able to move, and that you were scared to lose him. He'd tell you that you were too good for him, you deserved better, you deserved more, and you'd cry and tell him to shut up, that he was your best friend and all you ever needed and you'd always be there for him, and he would shake his head and deny it all with tears streaming down both your faces until you collapsed into each other and fell asleep with your limbs intertwined whatever mood you'd gone to sleep in. There was something about that night that told you not to argue, not to push him, just clean him up and hold him and let him know that he wasn't alone in this world. His eyes met yours once more. "I'm okay." He repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time.

All you could do was nod, and wiping the last bit of blood from his face, you quickly went over the cuts with disinfectant, JJ's grip tightening on the backs of your legs as you continued to tend to every last bit of him. Finishing on his face, you placed a kiss on each and every cut, bruise or scrape that was etched into his skin. He let out a shaky breath, one hand moving up and landing on your back, rubbing up and down as his forehead rested on your shoulder. Running your own hands through his blonde locks, you pressed your nose to the top of his head as you held him close to you. It wasn't long before you felt the tears soak through the material of your shirt (which was technically JJ's shirt, but that didn't matter much.) and his body started to shake against your own, chest heaving and hands shaking.

"I hate him," you heard him mutter. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around him tighter, one hand clutching the back of his neck as the other rubbed soothing patterns onto his back. JJ shook against you, hands clutching onto the sides of your shirt as his lips brushed against the side of your neck as he let out a sob. "I just - I fucking hate him! Why does he do this, why does he -? Why, why, why?"

He was muttering the word over and over again, all sense of himself lost as he sobbed into your neck. In that moment, you felt so useless, so powerless, and you knew that JJ did too. You wished you could take away all his pain, make him see that he was so loved, that you loved him entirely and surely, but all you could do in that moment was hold him tight and screw your eyes shut as you cried along with him.

"He doesn't deserve you, J," you whispered into his hair. "He doesn't deserve you one bit. You're the best son, okay. You're the best friend, the best goddamned person on this island, on this planet! You're so loved, you hear me? You're so loved, babyboy. We all love you, I love you okay. I love you more than anything."

You'd said the words a million times before, but somehow in that moment, wrapped up in each other, JJ sobbing into your chest and you holding him like a person would a child, his ear resting against your heart where he could hear every little beat, his own matching the rhythm soon after - in that moment, _you both knew it meant more. That the friendly shared 'love you's' from so many times before were different to the ones now, and yet still neither of you spoke about it. You focused on JJ, giving him the comfort he so desperately needed. And JJ focused on you, focused on your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing and the soothing words you were whispering to him, and you had no clue as to what he was thinking; that he loved you, so fucking much. JJ Maybank didn't know what to do with that, to love someone so completely and honestly like he loved you, beyond the point of friendship and into the unknown territory of _in-love _absolutely _terrified him. But he knew it to be true, he was in love with you.

And as you forced him to take his shirt off so you could inspect the bruises surrounding his stomach and chest, laying a gentle kiss onto each and every one of them as he started at you with pure adoration in his eyes, he thought about your relationship - fears of you getting bored of him, wanting more than the island life and more than him, fears of you leaving him for something or someone simply more. Realising that he was no good like he'd always said, always suspected. But then you gazed at him with a certain glint in your eyes that he knew was reflecting in his own, and you were pressing your lips to his in a soft caress that dimmed all thoughts from his head and the question of 'are you bored yet?' fell flat on his lips as you ate them, chewed it up and spat it straight back out.

That conversation could come later, he supposed.

JJ's jaw clenched as he took in the sight of you, skin glowing in the late night sun that was slowly fading in the moons advance. The kegger had begun only an hour or so before, and yet the beach was filled with people already - varying of Pogues, Tourons and Kooks.

Among them all was you, red cup placed in your hands as you laughed at something the guy in front of you was saying, a small smile on the boys lips as he watched you. JJ felt something twist in his gut, suddenly feeling nauseous as he was stood a bit away from you, taking in the sight with malice in his blue eyes. He didn't know the guy that much was for sure, which could only mean one thing; he was definitely a Touron. That also probably meant that he was one of the few people at the party that didn't know JJ or anything of his reputation for being a bit too hot headed. JJ couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

"Dude," John B slapped a hand on his shoulder, effectively snapping his trance at the pair across the beach. JJ turned towards his best friend, a smirk on John B's lips as their eyes met. "You're gonna poke holes into that guys head the way you're glaring at him man."

JJ rolled his eyes, his head once again moving to look back towards your figure. You didn't look mad at the attention the guy was giving you, and that sent a trail of fury in JJ's veins. "Who is that guy, man?" He asked instead of replying to John B's playful taunts. John B seemed to take note of that and simply shook his head. Fucking clueless, he thought.

"Dunno," John B replied as he took a swig of the beer in his hands. "Some Touron, probably." He glanced at his best friends face and noticed the glare darken in JJ's eyes. He suddenly shifted, blocking his view of you and the guy, ignoring JJ's grunt of displeasure at his move. "Don't start anything, J. Alright?"

JJ scoffed. "Me?" He chuckled darkly. "Nah man, you know I'd never start anything," he patted John B's chest twice. "I'm not the fighting type." JJ knew that John B could make out the sarcastic drawl to his words, and looking away from the brunette's eyes JJ was glancing back at you. His features shifted dramatically as he saw the guy take a step closer to your body, and despite the somewhat uncomfortable smile on your face you never seemed to object to the move. JJ felt the anger in his veins grow. "Fuck this!"

John B stopped him before he could take another step, shoving his chest so that he stumbled backwards. "Don't even think about it," JB warned. From afar, Pope seemed to take notice of the two and began to walk towards the seething blonde and his brunette best friend. "Pope, man tell him," John B practically pleaded as the most level headed of the group arrived at their side. It didn't take long for Pope to realise what the source of JJ's anger was, spotting you and the guy, completely oblivious to what was going on. "What are you planning on doing, huh?"

"He's all over her," JJ simply said - as if that was enough of an excuse for his anger. Pope and John B shared a glance. "I'm just gonna go over there and see if she's alright, alright?"

"Why do you care if he's all over her?" Pope raised his eyebrows. "You're not her boyfriend."

That faltered JJ's stance, and for a split second he looked away from you - still laughing, both hands gripping the cup in your hands, bikini clad top on full show for unwelcome eyes to wander. He clenched his jaw tighter, teeth clashing in his mouth, as he thought about Pope's words. Was it technically true; wasn't he your boyfriend? He didn't know - neither of you did. You hadn't spoken about anything, the changes in your relationship coming almost naturally so that neither of you cared to at first.

First, there was the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule. Second, there was something so deliciously thrilling about keeping your relationship from everyone else - no room for drama or prying eyes, or so he thought. But the unknown was beginning to scare him, and all he wanted was answers.

It was as if putting a label on what you both were would potentially put an end to everything, all the kissing, cuddling, secret touches, lingering looks, whispered endearments. The pair of you were too young for this shit, JJ thought. Thinking so hard about what you are or weren't. And god forbid you'd both come to regret it all; JJ couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

"I'm not gonna do anything," he said simply, and shoved his way past his friends before they could do anything else. He approached you, your eyes immediately catching his and a large grin overtaking the features of your face as he came closer. The guy seemed to notice your shift in attention and he turned too, eyes widening a bit at the sight of the blonde stood in front of him. JJ tried to smile naturally, his too sharp teeth secretly grinding together. "Hey," he chirped as if he was talking to an old friend. "How're you doing, man? I'm JJ."

You hid a laugh behind your hand, having no clue as to what JJ was trying to achieve but finding the obviously fake enthusiasm rather hilarious in that moment. Over his shoulder, you noticed John B and Pope watching with careful eyes, and everything seemed to click in your mind. _JJ was obviously planning on starting something. _You decided to get yourself and your somewhat boyfriend slash best friend out of the situation before anything could happen, the poor Touron didn't have a clue that you were kinda taken, to a fist throwing first ask questions later, tall blonde named JJ Maybank after all.

"It was nice talking to you, dude," you told the guy, his face dropping at the word dude. God, had he seriously wasted all that time flirting with you? You grabbed JJ's hand, only for him to tug it out of yours and place it around your shoulders, blue eyes sending daggers to the nervous boy on front of you. "We're gonna go now, I think."

And with that, you led the way away from him, not missing the way JJ's eyes swooped over the guy in an almost warning manner before smirking at him. Your hand reached up and fingers intertwined with those of JJ's that were sat rather comfortably near your breast. JJ's fingers squeezed yours in response, his arm tugging you closer before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to the top of your head.

Once you were a good distance away from the party and its occupants on the beach, you turned in his arm, hand letting go of his to wrap both your arms around his waist. He kept the same arm around your shoulder and placed his other on your bare back between the high waist line of your shorts and the knot of your bikini, long fingers spacing out and rubbing soothing patterns into the skin.

You sighed as you looked at him. "What was that about?" You questioned, a small smile tugging on your lips regardless of the seriousness in your question as you demanded answers.

"That guy was all over you," JJ grunted, his eyes leaving yours to glare at the space where you stood a minute before talking to the said guy. "He was practically drooling all over you. I saved you, y'know. You should be thanking me, babe."

You laughed, and rolling your eyes you reached up to touch his face, thumb smoothing over the still darkened skin under his eye from the confrontation of his dad earlier that week. Leaning up on your toes, aware that nobody could see the action from the distance you and JJ were stood from the kegger, you pressed a kiss to the bruised skin, JJ's eyes closing at the feel of your lips against his skin, a soft exhale leaving his chest.

"Were you jealous, baby?" You teased gently, chuckling at his scoff in response to your accusation. "Relax, J. You don't have to be. I've only got eyes for you."

That seemed to catch his attention. JJ pulled away from you a bit, blue eyes suddenly serious and pink lips forming a tight line. For a second you worried you'd said something wrong, suddenly afraid that he would pull back completely and distance himself from you like you feared one day he would - it was only a matter of time before he realised what you had was a mistake, you worried. That he'd get bored of you and realise there was so many other people he could have. The thought alone made you sick, and you forced the intruding thoughts to the back of your head as JJ's eyes trailed over your face.

"What's wrong?" You couldn't take it anymore. The silence was deafening, even with the music and chatter of the teenagers behind you lingering in the night air. JJ seemed to get hold of his bearings at that moment, shaking his head and leaving a hand from your body to run through his hair. You watched him all the while, lip between your teeth. "J, what's wrong baby?"

JJ wished he had an answer, but he simply didn't. He had no idea what was wrong, no way of telling you the thoughts that were running through his mind. JJ had never been good with words, or emotions, or anything much like that at all. And so he just shook his head, sighing deeply as his hands caressed your face. You welcomed the touch, head leaning into his hold as he smiled down at you. You knew there was something he wanted to say to you; you had known him for so long, felt like all your life, and you could see right through his lies. However you never said a thing, once again. In that moment, it felt enough to just be by his side.

"Can we go?" He muttered quietly, despite no-one being around you. You smiled softly, eyes staring into each others there on the beach. "Just wanna go to sleep with you," he murmured that time, leaning down and kissing the side of your lips, not completely which had you grumbling quietly.

"Course, baby," you whispered as you looked at him, feeling nothing but adoration and love for the boy in front of you. "Let's go."

And so after kissing him under the moonlight, feet sunken in the damp sand as the sea splashed around you, the kegger still going strong in the distance, JJ took your hands and led the way back to the Chateau, where despite both your similar thoughts you crawled into bed in the spare bedroom and fell asleep together, your head resting on his chest with his cheek pressed against your head, arms wrapped around forms and legs intertwined.

It was hot, blistering heat panning down on your form as you lay on the hammock outside the Chateau, eyes closed with one arm resting over them in a fleeting attempt to block the sun out. Despite the unbearable temperature of the day, JJ lay in between your legs, perfectly muscular arms wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your stomach that was covered only by one of his infamous cut-off sleeve shirts, only a bikini underneath it keeping you modest.

One of your hands played with the hair on the back of his neck, twirling the strands in between your fingers and repeating the process over and over again, JJ letting out a low him as you did so.

It was just the two of you, the quiet and peacefulness welcome on the hot day as you cuddled as close as you could and as much as you wanted, nothing off limits away from the prying eyes of your best friends. Both Kie and Pope were working, John B having traded your company for that of Sarah Cameron's for the day, and so that only left the pair of you to do anything and everything you pleased. JJ had let out a joyous whoop when you'd discovered the fact, and you'd only managed to get out of bed half an hour before as he took full advantage of having the Chateau to yourselves for the morning. The original plan was to go surfing, but as soon as you'd stepped out of the house the both of you seemed to come to a silent mutual agreement that lounging around in the sun on the porch was a much more welcoming idea instead.

And so that's what the pair of you had done; there was barely a word uttered between you both as you lay there, JJ's skin slightly sticky and damp on your own due to the heat, but neither of you seemed to mind as you simply closed your eyes and basked in the quiet, content with doing nothing with your favourite person.

JJ's hands had moved so that he was caressing your side, your skin revealed with the low cut of his shirt as his thumb rubbed patterns into your skin. In its wake it left goosebumps, JJ's touch never failing to make you shiver even in all the years you had known him. He knew what effect he had on you too, he smirked as you shivered, his other hand squeezing the flesh of your hip.

You trailed your own hands down from his hair and onto the exposed flesh of his back as he lay shirtless, and you could feel the muscles under your palms clench as you let out a small giggle. JJ chuckled along, although he'd had no idea as to what it was you were laughing at in the first place. The sound of your laugh just made him happy, he supposed.

"What're you laughing at?" He murmured quietly, chin propping on your stomach and his eyes squinting up at you. He'd moved a hand down to your thigh, now kneading the flesh there as his other remained on your side and wrote unknown words into the skin there. You grinned down at him lazily, the sun and his charming aura making you feel high. Then again, you probably were high; the blunt you'd both shared a couple of minutes earlier taking its toll.

"Nothing," you hummed. "Just really, really fucking happy right now s'all."

JJ laughed, laying a kiss onto your stomach and loving the way you giggled at the action. He pressed more there, letting out dramatic sounds of various 'mwah's' as he trailed them up further until his lips were on the skin on your collarbone, continuing his assault onto your neck. JJ's tongue darted out, and your giggles had soon turned into breathy moans of approval as he sucked on the skin, his sharpened teeth sinking into the flesh not long after. You gripped the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his hairline as your sounds of pleasure rippled through the air surrounding you without a care in the world. In that moment you couldn't care less if anyone had caught you - all that mattered was JJ, all that ever mattered was JJ. He sucked gently on your flesh, adding to the bruises that already littered your chest, stomach, thighs, anywhere he could get his mouth earlier. You both knew questions would be asked from the others, in the high temperatures of the Outer Banks your skin was almost always revealed. But again, neither of you cared.

Not when JJ's mouth left your skin with a satisfying pop, his eyes taking in the sight of the freshly bruised flesh, a content smile on his lips. He leaned down and peppered a kiss to the lovebite, soothing his tongue over it afterwards. You let out a sigh, suddenly breathless under his heated gaze.

JJ shuffled his body up and closer, one leg in between yours as his right hand came up and held your face tenderly in his palm, the rough skin of his thumb swiping along your brow as he grinned cheekily down at you. "You're fucking beautiful y'know that?"

Your cheeks blazed, an almost embarrassed laugh leaving your mouth and you shook your head at his words. JJ looked offended suddenly, his brows furrowing as he nodded furiously. "Um, yes you are. Don't you dare say that you're not because you're, fucking, beautiful, okay," between each word he left lingering kisses to your lips with his own, and you knew it was probably the weed in his system that had spurred him to such a romantic confrontation, but you welcomed it regardless, giggling against his lips as one leg hooked around his waist. "Fucking god, you keep doing that and we won't be moving from this hammock all day."

"I'm not complaining about that," you replied and pressed your lips harder to his. JJ let out a groan, his body impulsively pushing down further onto yours, his hips directly on yours, chests pressed close together, his arm holding him up enough near your head so he didn't suffocate you completely, his other kneading the soft flesh of your bikini bottom clad ass. Your own hands caressed the skin of his abdomen, fingers sprawled and feeling his abs tense underneath the tips. You pulled away only slightly, taking in the sight of his flushed face, his eyes bright and yearning, flashing with something you couldn't quite place and his lips swollen and so very red. "Thank you, by the way." You whispered as you reached up and pushed the hair from his face. "You're pretty beautiful yourself, hon."

JJ seemed to understand what you were getting at then, his chest heaving with a chuckle as he shook his head at you. He leaned down and placed a kiss to your nose, returning his head to snuggle into your neck as you were once again wrapped around each other. "Thanks, I know," he joked (possibly) as his hands resumed their pattern of soothing shapes on your ribs. You hummed a random tune, the calming atmosphere returning around the pair of you on the porch. It was quiet for a few more minutes, your eyes closing involuntarily and almost falling asleep right then and there before JJ spoke up again. "You're my best friend, y'know."

The words were so quiet you almost missed them, but with the silence surrounding you, you'd heard them loud and clear. Your eyes opened and you glanced down at the boy laying atop of you, his face hidden in the skin of your neck.

"I would hope so," you laughed slightly, having no clue as to where JJ was planning on going with the fact. "You're my best friend too. I'd be lost without you and the guys."

"No," JJ shook his head. He shifted in his place, eyes connecting with yours as you sent him a questioning look, quirking your eyebrow. JJ sighed deeply, sucking his lower chapped lip into his mouth for a second before releasing it and allowing your finger to trace the outline of it. "You don't get it. You're like, my best friend. I know it sounds stupid and I'm probably a selfish fucker for saying it, but I'd put you above everyone else. You are above everyone else. And like, I don't know how else to explain it but you mean the fucking world to me. Without you, I'd be nothing. If I lost you, I'd fucking die."

His voice broke at the end, and it damn near broke your heart as you hushed him gently, arms circling around his head and holding it close to your chest. You kissed his forehead, hearing him sniffle before he raised his head and met your eyes, the sea blue crystallised by unshed tears.

"I feel like I've known you my whole life, and I just - I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm scared honestly, shit fucking feared of losing you, or you realising that I'm just a no good low life and you could do better, and honestly you could and I don't even know what the fuck you're doing with me," JJ chuckled darkly and you shook your head, feeling tears prick at your own eyes at his words. "And I don't even know if you want to be with me, or if what we're doing is some mistake you're gonna regret, but you're my best friend."

The earnest in his voice made your heart clench in your chest. You'd seen JJ cry numerous times, seen his facade break and his world around him to crash, seen the emotions pour out of him with so much force whether they be happy, sad, fucking hysterical or ecstatic; and you'd loved him through it all. The realisation of just how much you loved him, that went beyond friendship and into pure, earnest and genuine love for the boy in front of you, made your head swirl and butterflies in your stomach to clash heavily against your ribcage. Something warm spread throughout you, and you welcomed the feeling with open arms. You loved JJ Maybank, purely and honestly, with every fibre in your being.

"J," you murmured carefully, gripping his damp cheeks and forcing him to look at you. His face was unreadable, but you could see in his eyes what he was feeling in that moment. "You're fucking crazy, alright? Everything about you is so damned chaotic and I love every bit of it. I love every bit of you, so much. Do you know how scared I was that you would take all this back? Regret it all, leave me for someone better. I was scared shitless, because I cannot lose you. You're my best friend, and all I wanna do is spend all my time with you."

"I've never felt like this before," you whispered as JJ's gaze softened, hands gripping your hips and squeezing gently. You traced the worry in his brows, easing it away, traced the bottoms of his eyes, the slope of his nose and the outline of his lips. He breathed against your fingertips, the soft exhale making the hairs on your arms raise. "I love you, J. And if you think you're ever gonna get rid of me, you're terribly fucking mistaken."

JJ chuckled at that, blonde head falling on your chest as he breathed in and out, seemingly catching his breath at your confession. "Thank god," he breathed, cheeky gaze raising to catch yours as he grinned, suddenly surging forward and catching your lips with his own in a deep and passionate embrace that had you feeling dizzy at the pure feel of it all. "I was scared you were gonna tell me to fuck off, thought you were using me for my body for a minute there, babe."

You full on laughed, breaking away from his eager lips to let it out, your hands clutching his cheeks and your legs squashing his body atop yours from where they were wrapped around his waist. "You're such a fucker, J." He kissed along your jaw in response, biting down softly. "God, that weed must have been some new level shit."

"Nah," JJ shook his head and grinned. "You just drive me crazy, babygirl." His hands wandered from your ribs higher till his fingertips just slipped under the material of your bikini top. He pressed a further series of tender kisses to your chest, trailing them down and then back up to meet your lips once more. He gazed lovingly at you, looking golden in the sunlight. "I love you too, by the way. Just so y'know."

You grinned softly, catching his bottom lip with your teeth when he began to pull away, pulling a delicious groan from him. "I know," you echoed back to him, lips raising on their own accord to match JJ's almost shy smile at your declaration. "Hey, can we stay home today? Wanna watch the sunset with you later."

JJ snorted, laying one last lingering kiss to your lips before snuggling back into your neck, his eyelashes brushing against your delicate skin. "Whatever you want baby," he chuckled, breath warm. "Whatever you want."

Yours and JJ's (now established, thankfully) relationship only progessed from there; it was in the little things, spending every moment you could get with each other, always touching in some kind of way whether it to be hands curled around one another's, fingers dancing on skin, shoulders and arms brushing, legs squished beside each other. It was all new, and it was all so exciting, and any worries that the two of you may had shared earlier vanished and in their wake came new thoughts of the future, of which you'd spend together.

If the gang had noticed the change, they hadn't mentioned it. Though you already knew Kie suspected something a long time ago, and probably Pope and John B too, due to JJ's little episode at the kegger that time. But you and JJ rejoiced in the unknown, relationship growing stronger each day all the while. You weren't trying to hide it - god forbid, you'd both been waiting so long for it, but you hadn't officially announced you were boyfriend and girlfriend either. There wasn't anything to say, you thought. The relationship came naturally, years of close friendship gradually turning into something more for the pair of you, and you'd both agreed it would be way funnier for the gang to come to their own conclusions and confront you about it themselves. However long that would take them.

The Pogues had driven the HMS Pogue out to the marsh, planning on drinking, swimming and simply hanging out for the day. Sarah had joined you on that particular day, body pressed close to John B's as the group lounged around on the boat, you and JJ wrapped around each other as usual.

His muscular arm was wrapped around your shoulders as you sprawled out close together, your legs thrown over his as your body angled towards his own, head resting on his shoulder. Your hands held the one thrown over you, absentmindedly playing with his ring adorned fingers. His other gripped your knee laying over his, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into the tanned skin there.

Nobody had mentioned your closeness - it was nothing new, the pair of you had always been so close, always touching even before becoming a couple. But Sarah wasn't as close with you as the others, and though she was aware of how close you and JJ were, she wasn't as up to date with everything like everyone else. You'd had no idea that she always just assumed the pair of you were dating, until that day.

"So, you guys are like, a couple right?" She'd asked out of the blue, eyes directed onto you and JJ. Kie suddenly sat up straight, sunglasses raising to rest atop her head rather than on her nose, Pope beside her seemingly taking as much interest, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he listened.

From beside Sarah, John B laughed and shook his head. "Everyone thinks that," he grinned, looking to you and JJ who shared a knowing glance. Sarah looked at him in confusion. "They can't help it though, their sexual tension is through the roof."

Sarah looked even more confused. "Wait, so you guys aren't together?"

JJ cleared his throat, arm tightening around your shoulders. You squeezed his hand as you stared up at him, smiling softly at his uncertain gaze. Once he'd met your eyes, the uncertainty faded away and in its place came a cheeky kind of look, mischievous and so attractive that you had to hold yourself back from kissing him right then and there. You knew it was time to come clean; and you thought it would scare you, your relationship suddenly becoming so real, but the thought only made your insides twist and churn with nothing but excitement.

You looked back at Sarah, who's gaze was still on the pair of you, as well as everyone elses. You noted the almost giddy expression on Kie's face, the barely suppressed curiosity on Pope's, and the suddenly confused one of John B's. You almost laughed, but held it in to say, "Actually, yeah. JJ and I are together."

JJ squeezed you gently as the reactions from your friends began. Kie grinned smugly, Sarah smiled at the two of you, John B raised his eyebrows so high they almost got lost beneath his hat, and Pope slapped his knees before he lurched backwards with his arms raised above his head.

"I knew it, man," Pope shook his head, though a smile was growing on his handsome features. "I knew something's been up with you two."

You laughed as Kie scoffed, "You knew? I had it figured out from the very beginning, I could tell something had changed." She eyed you. "And I was specifically told that nothing was going on, you big fat liar!"

"I'm sorry," you chuckled. "In my defence, when you asked me about it then I actually didn't know if we were like, together together. We hadn't spoken about it yet."

JJ grinned and pulled your body closer, leaning down and pressing a sloppy kiss to the top of your head as your face was mushed into his bare chest. "Yeah, and who can blame her for wanting to keep my Sex God body all to herself?" He asked rhetorically, laughing when you slapped him on the chest with a playful eye roll.

"Wait, so are you a couple now?" John B questioned, puzzled. He looked between the pair of you, your arms wrapped around his waist, one of his still around your shoulder and hand resting between your boobs. The other brushed hair from your face, JJ's gaze loving and soft as he looked down at you before looking back towards his best friend. John B scrunched his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't tell anyone man," JJ shrugged carelessly. His fingers had began to play with your hair. "Figured it would be funnier for you guys to find out yourselves," he grinned. "So congratulations, you guys now know. Your reward is the knowledge that we fuck now!"

The gang groaned at his ludicrous words, and you slapped his chest with more force than you had before, just slightly as you scoffed and attempted to raise your head and move position to get a good look at him, but all JJ did was grab your hand and pull it upwards to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles instead.

You rolled as your eyes as you turned back to your friends. "We're sorry about not telling you," you said almost sheepishly. "We only really figured out what this was between us a few days ago, and by that time we just kinda forgot to mention it. This whole thing just kinda happened, we didn't know if it would last or become serious."

"And it has become serious now?" Pope voiced everyone's thoughts, glancing between the two of you. "Like, you're together as a couple. You love each other?"

You and JJ shared a look, the pair of you smiling softly as your hand raised and brushed the blonde strands of hair that fell over his brow, his own reaching up and holding the side of your jaw, his thumb swiping along your cheek lovingly. The others shared glances, unknown to you and JJ as you seemed to be lost inside your own little world for a moment.

When you came to again, you never turned from his eyes, watching the sea blue irises light up at your words; "Yeah, I love him, the fucker."

You heard a collective round of replies, but the feel of JJ's lips on yours for a second forced your attention on him and only him, your hands on his cheeks as you held him there for a full minute before pulling away, leaving a couple more little pecks on his lips. He whispered, "I love you." before he turned his attention to your friends, your smile so bright.

"I thought she'd get bored of me," he revealed unexpectedly. The Pogues (plus Sarah) all looked to him with various expressions of confusion, your own face matching theirs for a moment. JJ felt a smile tug on his lips as your hands massaged his scalp, nails scraping gently against the skin beneath. "But of course she couldn't, I mean I'm the fucking best am I not?"

The gang rolled their eyes as his normal cheeky expression returned, though they all smiled at the pair of you cuddled close together on the seats of the HMS Pogue, realising it was the happiest they'd ever seen the both of you. John B let out a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, it's about time anyway."

And just like that, everything went back to normal. You knew they'd have more questions in the future, prepared to answer any and every one of them when they came. But your little group swayed their attention elsewhere sat out on their little boat, laughing and joking at the next topic of conversation, bright eyes and giddy smiles on every face as you drank, swam and sunbathed out there on the marsh. JJ was only looking at you though, skin golden and blue eyes shining. You loved him, you thought. How could he ever think you'd get bored of him, with his charm and quick witted words, sarcastic drawl and tendency to get into trouble, his obsession with weed and putting others before himself always, his beautiful mind and ridiculously good looks to match. He was yours, all yours. And you loved him. JJ grinned. "Are you bored yet?" He asked, just once, loving the sound of your giggle as you shook your head at his antics. "No? Good, because I'm never gonna get bored of you."

[trillian-anders]

four christmases

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings:  slight violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 16k

description: part 2 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now,the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale. These are the four christmases you’ve spent with the thrombey/drysdale clan during your times of service. 

a/n: this story is brought to you by season 4 of schitt’s creek and maybe 12 cups of coffee. it felt like it took forever to write, but i’m happy to bring it to you. this is the follow up for my other ransom one-shot ‘the assistant’. i hope you guys like it! 

2018

What a fucking asshole. 

“You have to be there, it’s your job.” Ransom huffed indignantly. You rolled your eyes from the passenger seat of his beamer, tablet open in your lap as you scrolled through your sister’s amazon wishlist. 

“I have a family too Ransom. I can’t just abandon my own family on Christmas just because you can’t get along with yours.” His knuckles turned white against the gear shift. Nothing else mattered, only him it seemed, and his whining Mommy complex. 

“You were hired to assist me,” Ransom pulled into the drive of his house, tires crunching on the gavel, “So assist.” What a fucking tool. He quickly exited the car not looking behind him to see if you were following into the house, but leaving the front door wide open with the expectation that you were coming right behind. 

You had just hopped onto this assistant gig a few months ago. There you were minding your own business as fall began, working for a temp agency, when Linda Drysdale rang you up and asked you to come work for the family again. You had recently been tutoring one of the youngest of the clan, Meg, with her English coursework for her last school year. The pay was good and you were kind of let down when they opted not to keep you on after summer concluded. 

Babysitting Ransom paid well, better than it had been to help Meg out, but was it really worth the price? Ransom was a fucking child. You cooked his meals, washed his laundry, and were forced to tail him as he went about whatever business he deemed worthy of his days. Just until 9 pm, that’s all you had to do. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. Off Sundays and Mondays. 

It felt like too much and not worth the paycheck. Even if the trust-fund asshole spent his days flirting around from one party to the next. More often than not he found himself a body to bring home leaving you to get an uber back to his place just so you could get your car to go home, or worse yet having you sit awkwardly in the backseat of the car as whoever was in the passenger seat desperately tried to give him road head. 

He loved it. You know he did. Eyes flitting to yours in the rear-view mirror as a girl ten years younger than him fumbled with his belt. A fucking smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him, but your sister’s private school tuition held you back. 

You followed him into the house, one you had just spent the entire morning cleaning as Ransom slept off his hangover. The prick had dropped his coat on the floor adjacent to the coat hook, shoes haphazardly kicked off beside it, glaring at him as you picked them up while he drank orange juice straight from the carton. 

“I’ll pay you time and a half if you come.” He bartered. 

“You don’t pay me anything,” You scoffed. “Your Mom pays me.” 

“Exactly.” He tossed the carton back in the fridge, coming around the counter to get closer to you. He dropped his voice in what he probably thought was a seductive whisper. The fire it lit in your core would lead you to believe that it actually was a seductive whisper and you just fucking hated him. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He drug a finger down your cheek softly. It only caused you to roll your eyes, batting his finger away and stripping yourself of your coat you turned back to him, 

“I want triple.” 

Your sister was going to be pissed, but she’ll survive once she realizes you were able to get her a new laptop for school. A compromise. 

She cried. 

The Thrombey’s were probably the worst people you’ve ever met in your entire life. Harlan was prideful, pompous. He cared about his family, to an extent. He created them after all, his monsters. 

Linda was okay, but she was a lot like her father. She felt as though she was better than everyone else simply because she ‘built herself from the ground up’ yeah, if the ground was a million dollars gifted from Daddy. Her husband, Richard, was a glorified sugar baby, you were sure at one point he was a real estate broker, but Linda had the business, he just rode on her coattails. 

Walt was a whiny bastard. He was meek. He walked around with a cane and you weren’t sure he even needed it. It could totally be a ploy to try and gain more sympathy from his father. His wife was a drunk, you couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t talk to you anyway. You can’t talk if you always have your mouth wrapped around the lip of a martini glass. Their son, Jacob, was a little alt-right shit. Every comment that came out of his mouth was a dig on some less privileged 99% and if you didn’t need this job you’d shove his head in the toilet yourself.

That leads you to Joni and Meg. Joni and Ransom had both been given an allowance every month. That’s the way they were mostly the same. How they differed was that Joni was at least attempting to have some sort of entrepreneur business where she gained some income, but not enough to live the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had Meg in this expensive ass private school that cost more than your salary a month and Meg found this group of liberal women and now she was becoming the extreme opposite of Jacob. They often bumped heads, with Meg slowly giving in. She always gave in. This was her family and as much as she wanted to fight for the 99% she never actually wanted to be one. 

But it was fine. 

It didn’t really matter. 

You just wanted to go home. 

Ransom hasn’t had an empty hand all day thanks to you. “If I’m ever without a drink,” He said on the way over, “You’re walking home.” So this is where you’re standing, with Marta and Fran, you sipping on a weak mimosa that Marta had compromised on, waiting for the day to be over. 

Ransom’s eyes met yours from across the room, hand raising his glass, the last little mouthful swishing against its side. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to grab the decanter behind you, walking over to fill his glass. “So I told him to shove it up his ass,” Linda was telling Harlan a story, “If you think for one moment I would give in to anything less than market price you’re out of your mind.” Please love me, she was saying, please see that I’m the best child you have. Harlan’s eyes were dazed, not looking at hers. Thinking. He was always thinking. 

The only time Ransom didn’t need you was when he disappeared into his Grandfather’s office. Presents were handed out just before, new iphones, apple watches, macbooks, cartier bracelets, rolexes, a couple of little bonus checks to their allowances, the spirit of Christmas was definitely lost on this family. 

It doesn’t matter. 

You had just filled Ransom’s glass before he entered the study and you knew he wouldn’t need you until some kind of argument broke out with his Grandfather and you had to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice. 

“How’s it goin’ kid?” Richard always kind of made you uncomfortable. He seemed normal, but you were uncomfortable in a ‘this is a rich older white man who liked to corner you alone’ kind of way. For the most part he’s been harmless. 

One time, this was early on when you first started to tutor Meg, he found you in a similar way. Alone, in the kitchen. This was one of the first times he had met you and he was sure to let you know, “You’ve got a really pretty face, you know that?” Ew. Thanks? He had gotten close, too close. “How’d a pretty girl like you end up as a tutor?” That’s worse. And cheesy. This looked like one of those times, except he’d been drinking since 8 am. 

“I’m fine thanks.” You had been trying to find a minute of peace. There was always someone talking in this house, during ‘debates’ there were usually three or four. This was supposed to be a break. Ransom having been passed off to another wet nurse he could suck off of while you got some rest, and maybe sneak a couple of those expensive chocolate artisanal cookies for good measure. Richard grinned at you, not in the way Ransom would when he was fucking with you, but something more predatory. He was feeling ambitious. 

“I just wanted to give you this,” He slipped an envelope across the counter to you, hand resting on it, waiting for you to take it. As your hand met the envelope, he did the fucking worst thing he could possibly do in this moment, and took your hand. Your heart was racing and you felt wildly uncomfortable. He held your hand, taking a step into your space, body crowding yours against the counter. You stared him down, please just let me go. Please just fucking let me go. “How’s my son treating you?” He asked. What exactly did he think you were doing for his son?

“Fine.” You swallowed harshly. Please just let me go. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, face coming closer to yours. 

“If you ever need anything…” Closer and closer. You wished you could pull back completely, get out of this situation, but the vice grip he currently had on your hand was making it difficult. 

“Y/N.” Your eyes snapped over to the doorway, Ransom. His jaw was clenched, face flushed from what you were sure was an argument with Harlan. “We’re leaving.” Richard turned and smiled at his son, releasing your hand. You quietly slipped the envelope into your jeans pocket, backing yourself away from him, and joining Ransom across the room where his eyes hadn’t yet left his father. It wasn’t until you made it to the front door, grabbing your coat from the coat rack did he stomp his way out of the house, digging his car keys from his pockets. 

“Ransom I don’t think you should be driving-” You started, but he turned to you, eyes wild. This scared you. 

“Get in the car.” He demanded. Fuck, he’s drunk.

“Ransom you’re drunk, you can’t drive right now.” His eyes looked behind you and you turned to look at his family, peeking out through the curtains to watch the show. He quickly grabbed your arm, tugging you to the passenger seat, wrenching the door open and shoving you in, slamming the door behind you to circle around to the drivers side. “Just let me drive.” You pleaded. He slammed his own car door, revving the engine and quickly whipping the car out of the driveway. 

He wasn’t saying anything and Ransom always had something to say. 

“Ransom-”

“Shut the fuck up.” His knuckles were white against the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead as he began gaining speed. 

60 mph,

65 mph,

70…

“Slow down!” He was scaring you, these roads were winding and dark, his high beams only did so much and you weren’t sure how many deer you’d be seeing tonight. His foot was heavy on the accelerator. 

75

80

85

“Ransom please!” You cried. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were moving wildly left to right as he moved the wheel to turn.

90

95

100

You were going to die. This was it, this was the end. The car hit the open road, the interstate, and to the left of the on ramp you had just flew through was a cop. Their lights started flashing, red and blue filling the car as Ransom kept accelerating. It wasn’t late at night, probably around nine or so. There were other cars here as Ransom kept gaining speed, swerving in and out of traffic. “You’ve got to pull over!” You yelled at him.

105

110

115

“Ransom for the love of god, fucking stop!” His eyes looked in the rearview, two cops now. It was then he began to slow down, moving over to the side of the road, your heart still racing in your chest. You relax your fingers which you didn’t even realize was gripping Ransom’s bicep in a steel grip. Both of you breathing heavily inside the car. It wasn’t until the cop heavily banged on the window that either of you even moved. 

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.” A bright flashlight in your face as you dug around for his registration and insurance in the glove box. Exiting the car and circling to the trunk as Ransom was handing the four cops bills from his money clip. Why the fuck did Ransom have a money clip full of hundreds? Ransom’s eyes met yours as he stuffed his money clip back in his coat pocket before tossing you the keys which you caught awkwardly. 

“Take me home.” 

You looked over at the cops who were getting back in their squad cars before quietly getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. Your heart was still pounding and as the adrenaline began wearing off you suddenly grew very tired. 

“Drive.” You didn’t want to hear his voice. You never wanted to see his face again. You never even wanted to hear his name again. 

“You’re the fucking worst.” You could feel yourself crying. That was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had in your life. 

“Well you’re fucking my father so,” He sunk down in his seat. “I think I have some competition.”

“I’m not fucking your father!” You exclaimed, hand hitting the steering wheel. You hear him scoff from the passenger seat.

“Not today since I walked in on you. Which is funny, you put on this whole show about not wanting to be around my family and what was it all for? A fucking ploy so I didn’t know.” Ransom didn’t fucking know how much of a goddamn idiot he was being right now. 

As the gravel crunched beneath the tires of the beamer, your argument continued. “I’m not fucking your father, I’ve never fucked your father, and I never will fuck your father.” He wasn’t hearing you. 

“Is this why Linda pays you so much?” He scoffed, exiting the car. He looked at you from over the roof and continued, “So you keep Richard out of her bed?” You hadn’t stopped crying. Still half going from fear and the other half from frustration. It was so goddamn cold out that the tears were freezing against your cheeks. 

“Ransom, I am not fucking your father!” You yelled, “The reason she pays me what she does is because the exact fucking thing you’re doing right now.” He rolled his eyes, walking up to the front door of his house, 

“Give me my keys.” 

“No.” You were still standing by the car, keys fisted in your hand. “You’re being a fucking asshole right now.” 

He clenched his fist, slamming it into the front door before turning back to you and yelling, “Give me my fucking keys Y/N.” You both looked at one another for a moment. 

You took a deep breath. “I have nothing to do with your father Ransom. My only job is to wait on you like a fucking servant and that is what I get paid to do. Not be your fucking punching bag when your family turns out to be a bunch of dicks-”

“Give me-”

“I’m not finished!” You screamed. Tears were still streaming heavily down your face and Ransom stood five feet away from you awkwardly letting you continue. “I don’t deserve this Ransom. I really fucking don’t. You literally almost just fucking killed me. So you’re going to say you’re sorry, you’re going to go into your fucking house, you’re going to give me what you promised me for even having to deal with this shit tonight, and you’re going to give me the rest of the week off.” 

It was silent for a moment. The two of you standing in the cold Massachusetts air in silence. Your face was starting to burn and as the silence stretched on you began to doubt everything you just said. Fuck this could cost you the job. The envelope Richard had handed you weighed heavily in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to hold you over until you could get back to the temp agency. 

Ransom let out a breath he had been holding, turning fully to you, and walking down the two steps of his porch. You flinched back away from him, looking at his knuckles that were split and bleeding from punching the door. His eyes met yours and he looked like he was debating something. 

“I’m sorry.” His words were soft and whispered, hand coming forward with an open palm, waiting for his keys. You gently gave them back to him. That soft, whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ stunned you. You didn’t expect your yelling to actually work. You expected to be fired. His keys jingled as he reached in his pocket and brought that money clip back out, extracting a bundle of hundreds and holding them out to you between two fingers. “Go home.” 

That was never spoken of again. The thing with Richard in the kitchen, being pulled over on 95, the screaming match that ensued, and nothing was ever said about the solid gold, $6,500 cartier bracelet that was by no doubt wrapped at the store that was waiting for you when you arrived back at work five days later. 

2019

“What did he do?” You were sweating. It was so fucking hot in here, but you were afraid to take off your coat. The fanfare in which the detectives had pulled up to your apartment complex was embarrassing, quickly bringing you down to the police station and shoving you in an interrogation room. 

“What did who do?” The man who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Elliot asked you. Shit. What the fuck did Ransom do? The death of Harlan Thrombey was sudden, right after his birthday just two weeks ago. It was unsettling, the suicide. The funeral was uncomfortable to say the least. Ransom told you to go and then didn’t go himself so you stood there like some weird interloper on the tails of everyone’s grief. 

You were going to throw up, you’ve never so much as gotten a speeding ticket but suddenly you had a kilo of coke on you and an unlicensed gun. “Where were you the night Harlan Thrombey committed suicide?” You picked at your fingernails. 

“I was at the party,” Your throat was so dry, you were afraid to touch the glass of water they had set before you, “I always feel strange around the family so unless Ransom needs me I try to hide out in the kitchen.” 

“You’re his assistant?” Elliot asked, “He doesn’t have a job, so what exactly do you assist with?”

“I’m pretty much his babysitter.” You explained, “I make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble…” It’s ironic right? You bit your bottom lip. “Why am I here exactly?” The other man in the room, Wagner, spoke up, 

“Hugh Drysdale has been arrested in the murder of Harlan Thrombey’s housekeeper.” Elliot gave him a dirty look. 

“Fran’s dead?” The shock was evident on your face. You leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, discarding your coat and scarf and taking a large mouthful of water. 

“You seemed surprisingly absent from Hugh’s side throughout the aftermath of Harlan’s suicide, why is that?” The third man spoke up from his spot sitting in the corner of the room, the thick southern accent was almost comical. 

“Ransom gave me time off,” You recalled, voice trailing off as you finish your sentence, “He said I could go to my sister’s cello recital…”  Did he really kill her? “Why would he kill Fran?” It made no sense. “I mean, he’s an asshole, but murder?”

They played a recording. Ransom in his own, self-righteous, pompous voice. Fuck me. What a fucking idiot. “So tell us where you were on the dates in question, spare no details.”

You had thought it strange, Ransom had left you stranded at the Thrombey house and you were forced to find your own way back to his house to get your car. It wasn’t at all strange that when you got to his house his car wasn’t there. You’d just assumed he’d gone out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go out after finding arguments with his family. But the next day when he suggested that you take the week off, spend time with your sister, go to that recital you didn’t know he knew about, you checked his forehead with your wrist.

“Are you sick?” You had asked. He gently pushed your wrist off of his forehead, giving you a terse look. 

“Harlan committed suicide last night, the funeral is tomorrow, but after that you should take some time. I need some time.” Your heart broke a bit. Yeah Ransom and Harlan butt heads all the time, but they were practically the same person so it made sense to you that they would fight. Both prideful assholes. 

“I’m so sorry Ransom.” Should you hug him? You didn’t know. You two didn’t have any physical contact really. You’d never seen him hug anyone. So no, no hugs. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You opted to just gently lay your hand on his wrist. His eyes met yours for a moment, silence. 

“Just come to the funeral.” With that he stood up and walked away. 

That’s why it was so off-putting when the bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral and as you stood there with his sobbing family you figured next time you saw him you were going to spit in his coffee. 

“I haven’t seen him since the day before the funeral.” You admitted to the officers. “He asked me to go, and didn’t even show up.” 

“If we have any other questions we’ll let you know.” And you were released from questioning, but you had so many questions yourself. Arson? Fran? He attempted to murder Marta. Was this worth it? The fucking asshole never had to work for anything in his life, and even now as you stood in the courtroom waiting to see what bail would be set as so you could relay to Linda, you wanted to smack his pretty little face for being such a fucking idiot. 

A bailiff read out the case number and in walked Ransom. You’d never seen him in any outfit that cost less than your rent and here the bastard was, walking in with a black and white striped jumpsuit, the county jail logo stamped in red on the back.  You were the only person that showed up for him. Linda was half waiting for you to text her a dollar amount so she could pay his bail, the other half of her was debating on whether to leave him there or not. At least, that’s what she told you anyway. 

You could only imagine what you looked like to him. Your eyes were puffy and red from just crying in the parking lot for an hour in between getting questioned and coming to his hearing. Before that the detectives had taken you practically from your bed. But you were here, in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, coat pulled over the ratty thing, and snow boots on your feet. It started snowing this morning. 

His eyes caught yours as soon as he entered, but he quickly looked away. It was like a goddamn movie, his wrists cuffed to his waist, a chain leading down to the cuffs around his ankles. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

A chill went down your spine, “Bail set at a million dollars.” And a gavel. Cameras clicking behind you. Thirty minutes later you were waiting for his release. You handed a dry cleaning bag with clothes to the officer at the front desk. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

It wasn’t long before the secure, thick, metal door behind the metal detectors opened and Ransom was walking through it back to you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, quickly circling to the desk to get his phone, wallet, and keys back. The garment bag was shoved back in your hands containing the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested, and then he was out the doors of the county jail, speed walking to your car. His was taken in as evidence. 

You used your key fob to unlock the car, Ransom wordlessly climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him as you settled in the driver’s. This was uncomfortable. You drove in silence for a minute, awkwardly leaning over to turn on the radio. The song only played for a second before Ransom leaned over, smacking the button to turn it off again. 

“Just say it.” He spat out at you. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. 

“Say what, Ransom?” You were scared of him now and he could tell. He breathed harshly through his nose. You could feel his eyes on you. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? Why I did it? Yell at me for being a fucking idiot?” He threw his hands up in frustration. There was a beat of silence more, “Say something.” 

“I don’t know what to say!” You really didn’t. What do you even say? You’ve been cursing him for a while. In your head. Cursing him since you left the interrogation earlier. You didn’t know what any of this meant for your job, if you’ll be able to keep your sister in school, if you’ll be able to even afford the apartment you two live in right now. And all because Ransom wasn’t getting anymore fucking money from his Grandfather the fucking prick. 

“Anything. Fucking say…” He leaned over in his seat, growing close to you. “Are you scared of me?” He smirked. Not in his, I’m playing with you and getting my way, smirk. And not in his, I’m making you weirdly uncomfortable and it really gets me off, smirk. But some sick sinister type of smirk that made your stomach roll. 

“You fucking murdered someone Ransom.” You said between clenched teeth. He studied you for a minute before settling back in his seat. Silence took over until you made it to the front door of his house. Lawyers should be coming by in about an hour to start working on his case, his parents should be here soon as well seeing as they were backing all of this. 

“You think I would hurt you?” Ransom asked as he stripped himself of his coat, purposefully letting it fall to the floor just so you’d have to pick it up. You left it there. He turned to look at you, still in the doorway of his house. “I killed Fran because I had to.” He spat. “It was for the bigger fucking picture. You want to be paid don’t you? You like having money right?”

“Your Mom pays me Ransom.” You stated calmly. His voice was escalating in volume as he continued.

“So fucking what? Who bought you that fucking coat, huh?” He was talking about the expensive wool coat you are currently wearing. He bought it for you after seeing that your old bubble coat had stuffing pouring out of the right pocket. You didn’t ask for it. “Who pays for your fucking phone, huh?” You had a month-by-month plan before. Ransom gifted you and your sister iphones sometime in the spring, saying that he needed to be able to reach you without having every call get dropped due to bad reception. Your sister’s was just because they were buy-one-get-one, or so he said. You didn’t ask for it. “And that fucking bracelet on your wrist too? Is my Mom buying you jewelry? Or just me and my fucking Dad?” He was still under the impression that something had gone on between you and his father apparently. 

“That’s it! I’m done.” You yelled back at him. “I fucking quit.”  You stripped the coat off your shoulders and tossed  it on the floor beside his watching his mouth snap shut. You wiggled the bracelet off your wrist and threw that down on top of it before slipping your phone out of the side pocket of your yoga pants and throwing that on the pile. “I’ll mail Julia’s phone back to you.” You still hadn’t stepped foot inside the house, turning to walk back to your car when Ransom’s thundering footsteps could be heard behind you. 

Fuck he was going to kill you. 

It had continued to snow throughout the morning, the soft white stuff still falling heavily from the sky as you rushed to your car, you had to get away. You didn’t make it far before Ransom’s arms wrapped around your body from behind, tugging you tightly to his chest. You let out a loud scream before he covered your mouth with his hand. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered quickly into your ear. “Please stop, I’m sorry.” His large body was bent over your back as you were crouched over trying to get him to release you, both of you breathing heavily as you settled against him. “Y/N I’m sorry.” He slowly started walking the two of you back toward the house, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He shouted as you tried to bite his hand. He uncovered your mouth, arms loosening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” He repeated a little more calmly. 

He brought you back into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. You wanted to leave, eyes tearing up. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Ransom stood for a moment with his back against the door before peeling the wet socks off of his feet. You hadn’t realized that he took his shoes off when he originally came in. His feet were bright red from the cold. You glanced to your left at the knife block there, slowly backing away. 

“No, no, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sunk down to his knees. He looked like a fucking idiot, face flushed from the cold, kneeling in front of the door. He slowly made his way over to you, not rising from his knees, shuffling forward with his hands open and facing you. Your heart was racing as he stopped at your feet, slowly moving his arms to wrap around your waist, burying his face in your ratty old college sweatshirt. 

He was hugging you. Actually hugging you, on his knees, face turned into your belly. You could have sworn he whispered, “Please don’t go.” But you couldn’t be sure. 

A pot of coffee was made, coats picked up, and floor mopped before the lawyers and his parents arrived. The only evidence of your earlier fight was the absence of the cartier bracelet you refused to put back on. It sat heavily in Ransom’s pants pocket. Their discussion was loud in the living room and no one looked up as you lay the coffee and finger foods on the coffee table, Ransom’s cup unmade for him out of spite. As you turned to make your way back to the kitchen, Richard’s hand shot out to grab you harm, halting your movements, 

“Grab me some Macallan for me, would you sweetheart?” Your eyes flit over to Ransom, who’s jaw twitched, sharing a look with you before looking back to his lawyers and mother. 

This was none of your business, but you needed to know what your future was going to look like. Were you out of a job? If Ransom went to prison there would be no one to babysit. So yeah, you would be. He admitted on tape to arson and murder. Pre-meditated arson was minimum of 10 years, Murder was 30 years. He’s looking at at least 40 years in prison. He would be an old man before he was even allowed parole. 

The group grew silent, or you couldn’t hear them as you started dinner for that evening. You were sure the four of them would be staying. “Y’N, would you come here please?” That was Linda. 

You made your way over to the group, shuffling nervously in your wool socks. “Yes Mrs. Drysdale?” Linda smiled, 

“It’s back to Thrombey now, but that’s another issue.” Hmmm. “If I was willing to pay you…. Say four times what you’re making now, would you take Ransom’s house arrest? That is, if we are able to work the judge down to that.” 

“House arrest?” You looked to Ransom confused, he wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Murder and Arson-”

“The only proof they have is the recording, the only thing they’re going to be able to pin on Mr. Drysdale here would be the attempted murder of the nurse.” A chill went down your spine, 

“You tried to kill Marta too?” You asked Ransom, incredulously. He didn’t respond, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. His lawyers made you uncomfortable, they were definitely sleazy and you knew money could get you far in the justice system. If that recording was 75% of the evidence against Ransom and it was suddenly and accidentally destroyed, they would only have what was actually witnessed. 

“Well, would you?” Linda asked again. 

“I uhm… I have a sister who lives with me, I can’t just-”

“I’m sure there’s someone else who can take care of her. How long would it be for?” She looked to the lawyers, “Two or three years?” This was impossible. You couldn’t. Linda looked back at you. “How about this…” She leaned over and clasped your hands softly. “We will pay for your sister’s school, her housing, everything she needs while you’re doing this for us, and you’ll still get paid what I originally offered.”

“If Ransom gets house arrest?” You asked. 

“Yes ‘if’.” She was selling it hard. Julia could stay with your aunt. She didn’t live far from where the two of you currently reside. The majority of your income went to her school, books, clothes, rent, and groceries. Having all of that taken care of would mean you’d be getting four times your current salary and not having to spend any of it. Just for a couple years. 

“If Ransom gets house arrest,” you looked over at him, his eyes briefly meeting yours, studying you it felt like, “If he does, I will do what you need me to do. But I don’t even know how-” Linda’s hands quickly released yours. 

“We will figure that out when the time comes,” Linda has a shit eating grin on her face, “Write up a contract.” Directed at the lawyers, “Now, how are we going to get our hands on that recording?” That’s it. You were dismissed until they needed you again. 

“Why would you do that?” Ransom asked you. Everyone had left a little bit ago, you were busy washing the dishes, knowing as soon as this task was finished you’d be able to go home and this day from hell would be over. 

“Do what?” There was a piece of cheese melted on the side of the casserole dish that wouldn’t fucking come off. 

“Agree to take my punishment?” You paused in your scrubbing, 

“That’s if they actually settle on house arrest.” You finally unwedged the cheese, rinsing off the casserole dish and placing it in the dishwasher. 

“Hmpf.” Ransom had been cold and distant since he burrowed his head into your belly. Has to make up for his extreme weakness then. “But why?” He asked again.

You turned to him, eyes staring directly into his. You watched him fiddling with the gold bracelet you had taken off earlier, it was in his hand down by his side. “It’s what you said earlier right?” You scoffed, removing the rubber gloves from your hands and throwing them in the sink. You walked closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Because I need the fucking money.” 

The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Usually there was texting here and there, ‘Where are my grey socks, the ones I usually wear with the navy Ralph Lauren slacks?’ or ‘Next week when you meal prep for my weekend can you make me this?’ with a link to a recipe. ‘Pick me up a pack of magnums on your way in.’ Fuck you. 

You got him regular Trojans. 

Monday was Christmas luckily enough, and you knew you weren’t going in. Ransom didn’t even text you to see where you were. His account was rapidly depleting funds, you checked every once in a while. 

234.72 ETRN-STD

523.50 DRNK

435.62 HAWTHNE

The list went on. Multiple spots a day over the weekend. That’s who he was going to be now, the old fucking white dude who sits at a bar all day hitting on girls uncomfortably too young. How many giggling 18 year olds would you kick out crying and screaming the next day? Disgusting.  

“Do you have them?” Them meaning the cookies that were currently at the bottom of your reusable Aldi bag. Your sister, Julia, was off to your right, setting a pot with water on the stove to boil. It was Christmas, just the two of you, and with the aftermath of everything that was going on with the Thrombey/Drysdale clan, you were happy to get some time off to relax. You might even push it so that you wouldn’t have to work tomorrow. We’ll see if Ransom texts you. 

“Of course I do.” This bag has been in your closet all weekend. There’s a bakery near your apartment that your Mom would take you to all the time, every time you got an A, won a game, gotten an award. Everything they made reminded you of her, and it was something you craved more than anything. Every Christmas they would make these fresh baked cookie packs with all kinds, chocolate chip, double chocolate chunk, snicker doodle, gingerbread, white chocolate macadamia, chocolate and peanut butter. 

Every Christmas, after dinner, you and your sister would slouch in front of the TV with scalding hot cups of hot chocolate and devour almost the whole box. Every year except last year when at the time your sister was home alone watching The Grinch you were in a car with Ransom going over a hundred miles an hour and scared for your life. This Christmas, Ransom would not be getting between the two of you, food was cooking, lights in the living room were dimmed. The tree was all lit up and the presents you had exchanged earlier that morning sat unwrapped beneath it. 

Christmas music was playing softly on the tv as you heard someone knock on your front door. 

“Coming!” You yelled. It wasn’t uncommon for a neighbor to have forgotten something, sugar, butter, milk, that they needed for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon for you to answer your door without looking through the peephole. What was uncommon was Ransom Drysdale standing sheepishly on the other side. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were red. The cheeks and nose from the cold, the eyes probably from the alcohol you could smell on him. You sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on, “What are you doing here?” 

“Bar called me an uber and I didn’t want to go home.” He explained quickly, words slurring slightly. 

“Your parents-”

“Fuck my parents!” He yelled, you quickly shushed him, looking down the halls to see if anyone was peeking out into the hallway. “Fuck my parents.” He said quietly. 

“Ransom…” You sighed, stepping out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. “What do you want?” His eyes were glazed, he shrugged dumbly, swaying forward. “Okay big guy,” I guess this is happening, “Come on.” You quietly ushered him inside, shutting the door softly behind you. 

“Who is it? Oh, woah.” Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, shifting over to you. ‘Murderer’ she mouthed. 

“Go set the table.” You ushered Ransom over to the small table that could barely seat the two of you let alone a third, quickly brewing a pot of coffee and keeping an eye on your sister who was scared to get to close to him. “He’s harmless Julia.” You reassured her, or were you reassuring yourself so that you didn’t feel like such a bad guardian, letting a murderer into your home. He was past angry drunk Ransom, which is probably why the bar kicked him out, he was sad Ransom right now. You’d never seen him cry but this was probably the closest you were going to get to it. He was quiet, sat in the chair just staring as you and your sister finished dinner. 

You poured him a cup of coffee and a glass of water, hoping to sober him up enough that you could safely send him home later on. The three of you sat down to eat. Ransom staring listlessly out the window. You made him a plate and told him to eat. And he did. You told him to finish his water. And he did. You told him to finish his coffee. And he did. This was almost terrifying. He hadn’t said anything since ��fuck my parents’, and he looked dead on his feet. 

“Send him home,” Your sister pleaded. The man hadn’t moved. Cleanup had already started and finished, he was still nursing the third glass of water you’d given him. Cookies were warming in the oven. His eyes were less glassy now. He was slowly sobering up. The large helping of mashed potatoes and three bread rolls he ate didn’t hurt either. 

“He’s my boss, I can’t really kick him out.” You explained, “Let me get him sober enough that I know he’s okay and then he’ll go home.” She rolled her eyes at you, stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, adding more chunks of chocolate to melt. Ransom, still unspeaking, didn’t protest when you moved him into the living room, setting him up in the recliner with his own cup of hot chocolate and three cookies, before snuggling down with your sister and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You moved only once when he tapped the mug against your arm. 

More.

“I’ve never done anything.” He said. “Never went to college, barely graduated high school.” He was rambling to himself, maybe to you? “I’ve spent the entirety of my adult years inside someone’s cunt.” 

“Alright, Julia. Time for bed.” You ignored her whining protests. The movie wasn’t over yet. “Please?” You begged her. She hated Ransom. You knew this. She knows you know this. ‘All he does is take you from me.’ is what she once said to you. Just to treat you like shit. 

“I have no money.” Ransom’s eyes met yours. “None.” 

“I know Ransom.” He scoffed. 

“I’m no better off than you now.” 

“You still have your house. I’d say you are still better off.” You started cleaning up around him, letting the asshole sit in his self-pity. 

“C’mere.” It was a quiet request. The Grinch was packing up his sleigh in the background. You dropped the two mugs you were holding onto the counter, circling back to the recliner. Ransom’s hand came out soft, wrapping around your forearm and gently guiding you to sit in his lap.

“Ransom, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You tried to pull away, heartbeat beginning to pick up. His still bloodshot eyes raised to meet yours. 

“Please hold me.” Fuck. What were you supposed to do with that? Heart melting you sunk into his lap, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight. It was quiet for a while. Sitting with the credits rolling, Ransom’s arms wrapped around your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. Comforting him from whatever crisis he was currently going through. 

“Marta ruined everything” He whispered into your neck. 

“No Ransom, you did.” 

2020

The trial, fuck me, the trial. The whole fucking family showed to watch Ransom crash and burn and get exactly what he deserved. Well that and to stare down Marta Cabrera who sat with the prosecution in some shiny new digs, a stunning gold cartier bracelet on her wrist. That was familiar. Ransom’s cheap bought apology. There was a tension there, you knew. He always had a thing for ‘the help’. You wondered if that’s where he had been this past week. But it’s strange isn’t it? This whole situation. It was unsettling and for some reason you felt irreversibly used.  

“I knew the knife was a prop.” And that was that. Audio recording gone, attempted murder charge whittled down to aggravated assault. A slap on the wrist. Two years of house arrest. And here you were, in Ransom’s home with a fucking house arrest bracelet making your ankle itch. Unfucking believable. Ransom had sat in the courtroom, head raised, armani suit, legs crossed and body relaxed. He knew he was getting out of this from the minute he walked in. 

The Thrombey trial that was supposedly going to last three months only lasted a week. You still had a job, and in a remarkable turn of events Linda Drysdale and their legal team got exactly what they predicted. 

“I’m going out.” Was the first thing Ransom told you as you unpacked your clothes. He had half thought to buy you a bed and a small dresser that he haphazardly got someone to shove between his Pam Anderson Baywatch poster and the unplugged Space Invaders original arcade console. This was a 90s teenage boy’s dream bedroom. And now it was yours. He didn’t give you much time to respond and he was gone. 

They say that you never really know someone until you live with them. And you’ve never felt that saying more true. Ransom was a fucking asshole. 

During your previous employment schedule you would come in at 9 am with breakfast and let him know of anything he needed to do that day, if his Mom needed him for whatever reason, events his was scheduled to go to, dates he promised he’d keep. He’d let you know what to cancel and what he would get ready for, and then you were off. Cleaning and maintaining the home to the best of your ability, binge watching tv shows, trying new recipes from pinterest. 

Ransom was disgusting. 

Clothes discarded all over his floor, bedroom, living room, hallways. Beard trimmings all over the sink and what you would hopefully assume were more beard trimmings lining the bottom of his shower. You really didn’t want to think about Ransom’s pubic hair situation. He would do things like take his coffee mugs into his room or into the study and leave like a sip left in each one, letting it sit there until the milk began to curdle. Wet towels shoved into corners and every morning when you went in to make his bed it was like he was running in his sleep, loose and fitted scrunched in the corner of the foot board, duvet thrown off and pillows with half off shams. 

He was doing this shit on purpose. 

And you hated him for it. 

It wasn’t long after the trial that he began a steady routine. Gym, breakfast, some puttering around the house, making plans and then he would go out. And that’s when we come to this, 

“He said he would be back and we would have breakfast together.” The girl was pretty, but her voice was annoying. 

“I’m one hundred percent sure he did not say that.” You stood with arms crossed in the doorway, watching her fix her face in the mirror propped against his bedroom wall. An old antique thing that didn’t match with the decor of the house at all. 

“Hmpf.” She glared at you, “Fine, when he gets back, we’ll see who is right.” This was before you became practiced at this kind of thing. 

You felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans, 

Is she gone yet? 

Fucking prick. 

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” You explained, “He has a lot to do today, I’m sure if he said you’ll go out for breakfast it’ll probably be another day.” 

“I said.” She stepped up to you, “I’m staying.” Fuck. You rolled your eyes and walked past her into the room, 

Not leaving, come deal with her yourself

He had been waiting down the street like a psycho, waiting to see her leave so he can come back home, but it’s not really working out in his favor. You could feel her eyes on you as you made the bed and picked his laundry up from the floor, tossing them two feet away into the laundry basket you left in his bathroom in hopes he would actually use it. The socks left discarded beside it was a clear message of disregard, a ‘fuck you’ from a petulant child. 

You could hear the door slam downstairs. Great, you looked at the girl who was scrolling through her phone curled up in the reading chair in the corner of his room, he’s pissed. You could hear his stomping feet climb the stairs and the girl looked up from her phone hopeful towards the door. 

“Alright, time to go.” He huffed, coming into view. The girl stood from the chair, shifting over towards him and trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “Nope. Let’s go, your uber is here.” 

“But, I-” She began, you could see tears welling up in her eyes and you began to feel bad for her. 

You were never one to have one night stands. You had one serious boyfriend when you were in college, but when your Mom got sick you had ended it and moved back home. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone else since. You just didn’t have the time. That being said, this girl honestly thought Ransom had a heart. She was naive and young, younger than you. Your heart hurt for her, but honestly, no one should be with Ransom anyway. 

His birthday dinner had soon come and gone. Linda and Richard sat around the dinner table eating Ransom’s favorite foods you’d spent the day cooking for him. Drinking whiskey and wine, Ransom’s glass never empty. You’d had a few glasses yourself with the tapas style dinner you’d put together. A beautifully iced spice cake sitting on the counter with unlit candles for dessert. 

This was the night that Ransom blew up on you for the last time. The night he cried into your neck, drunk and unstable. Clutching desperately at your body for comfort, burying himself against you all touch starved and needy. This was more intense than last Christmas where his dry eyed stare begged you to hold him in an uncommon moment of weakness. 

He was so hard to read sometimes and you were never quite sure where you stood. You knew you really hated him sometimes, other times… not so much. The more you knew his parents, the more you understood why Ransom was an ungrateful shit to begin with. You almost couldn’t blame him for how he turned out.

Almost. 

“Help me with this.” He stood in the doorway to the small office he never used. It was pretty much just for show. A large wooden ornate desk, his macbook, and a bookshelf full of books you know he probably never read. Including the ones penned by his own Grandfather. 

There were beginnings here. Multi-colored post its lined the desk, laptop left on the seat of one of the chairs in the room. 

“What is this?” You asked him, fingers plucking a post-it from the desk,

Crime of Passion?

He had been watching a lot of true crime documentaries lately. It didn’t help but creep you out. This man, a murderer, suddenly extremely into serial killers and murder itself. 

“I’m going to write a book.” He explained. His face was in a grin, almost giddy. 

“A book.” You looked at him incredulously. Your eyes drifted over to Harlan’s novels sitting stacked on another chair, spines finally cracked and pages thumbed through, sticky tabs stuck throughout the pages. You pointed to them, “A book?”

“Yeah,” He gestured around to the post-its, “What do you think?” It’ll keep him busy that’s for sure. You sighed, sticking the post-it back on the desk and looked at him. He was waiting, expectantly, why did he care what you thought about this?

“Is it gonna be about Fran?” You asked awkwardly, he scoffed,

“No, I’m gonna write books like my Grandfather wrote,” He plucked a post-it from the desk, showing you,

Wife murders husband?

“I’m gonna write a mystery novel.” 

He was good. You couldn’t lie about that. And you wouldn’t. This was a strange thing. The routine changed. Gym, breakfast, writing, lunch, writing, dinner, and then he would go out. His mind was moving faster than his fingers could and you were left reading a new chapter or two every night. You’d once loved Harlan’s novels. Your Mother was obsessed with them. It was partially why you had even taken the job tutoring Meg in the first place, but you know what they say. Never meet your heroes. 

Harlan was kind in some ways, funny, but proud. His pride is what eventually killed him you’ve found out. The medicine Ransom had switched wasn’t his cause of death, his refusal for help was. 

Ransom was as good as he was, better even. 

“He’s got a lot of me in him,” Harlan said to you once, “He could have everything I’ve ever had if he would pull his head out of his ass.” 

This was promising. 

You were honestly afraid when Ransom first said he would be writing a novel. What if he wasn’t a good writer? Could you really lie and try to support him even though it was absolute garbage? You supposed you would have to. You were relieved to find out that it was unnecessary. 

He slipped a red pen into your hand when handing you this last chapter, the book almost finished. “I want to see how you react to everything,” He explained, the book was coming to the climax, you were a chapter away from the big reveal and the aftermath, his hands gently massaged your shoulders before he bent at the waist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sat on the sofa. “Do you like it?” His hot breath brushed against your ear, a tingle went down your spine. 

“Ransom,” Your hand came up to lay over his forearm, brushing the skin with your thumb, “It’s amazing.” You could almost feel the grin that stretched across his face, he turned, pressing his face into your hair where you could swear he laid a soft kiss before releasing you. 

“Of course it is,” Here we go, “I’m a fucking Thrombey.” His fucking smirk. That's what he left you with, returning to his office to pound out the last two chapters. 

It was a process. The editing, printing, shipping off to multiple publishers. He got replies after a month. 

Eager replies. 

Whatever Ransom wanted, Ransom got. The lucky bastard stayed lucky.

“Look Babe.” Ransom dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you, “Look at this shit.” He grabs a knife from the block on the counter, slipping it under the packing tape to open the box revealing glossy black covers. He first fucking novel. There. Printed. A picture of a fireplace, chair facing it, empty. A blood soaked carpet. He picked one from the box, opening it. And there in the forward, the dedication, Harlan’s name…

...and yours. 

“Don’t get all big headed about it kid.” He smirked. Your heart was racing in your chest. 

“Why would you…” Your fingers gently traced the letters of your name, there in print, as it would be on every copy sold. 

“Wouldn’t have been able to write it without you being chained to my house, only seems fair.” He shrugged. “We can call it even.” You scoffed,

“Dedicating your book to me hardly makes my doing your house arrest for you even Ransom.” He smirked again, flipping through the pages, seeing his words in bold print. 

“I think it’s plenty fair,” Okay, now you wanted to smack him, “You live here for free, you eat here for free, and you get paid pretty well to do so.” His devilish eyes met yours over the top of the book he was still thumbing through. “If anything you’re still ahead because you’re the kept woman of a bestselling author.” 

“A kept woman?” You dropped the book onto the table. “I’m not your fucking whore Ransom.” 

“Not yet.” Audibly you made noise of protest, internally your core thrummed with heat. 

“Never.” You packed up your tablet and the new book, attempting to walk around him to go sit out by the fire pit for a while. His large hand gently grabbed your upper arm, tugging you into his body, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your arms trapped between you.

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly soft, heartbreaking. 

“I am proud of you Ransom.” You shifted your belongings to your left hand, tugging your right from against his chest to wrap around his torso. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Book published, royalties rolling in, Ransom was making his own money now. He was more cocky than ever. Proud. The, I-don’t-need-you-anymore-mom, attitude. But can you still pay my babysitter? The girls came more easily than ever before, not that they didn’t come easy before the bestseller. 

Every. Night. 

Sometimes two girls were leaving in the morning, gently ushered out the door with promises of a phone call and a, “I’ll let him know.” It made you feel dirty, betraying almost. Like you were supposed to be on these girl’s side instead of cleaning up after Ransom’s mess. 

You could gag. The milky condoms, two of them, tossed haphazardly aside on the hardwood floor of Ransom’s bedroom. Disgusting. You could hear him laughing at you now. 

“It could be you,” He says, “Just say the word.” If you weren’t so irritated with Ransom for this very thing your panties would be dripping with the thought. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen island forking soft scrambled eggs into his mouth, cheesy with peppers and onions, the way he likes them, the way you made them, when you come downstairs. “You could at least throw the condoms in the fucking trash Ransom.” He looked up from his eggs to you, peeling off the latex gloves you’d just used, smirking. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Asshole. 

“You’re disgusting.” You begin on the dishes, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. You hear the stool scoot back against the floor, “That wasn’t an invitation.” You said, hearing his approach. His arms wrapped around your middle as you began to scrub. His head rested on your shoulder. 

“You love me.” He slowly rocked your body side to side, “You love how disgusting I am.” You tried to shrug him off of you, but he held you tighter. Since last Christmas when you curled up in his lap and held him for two hours until he was sober enough to leave you he’d been slowly getting more and more affectionate with you. He was touch starved, hungry for it. The intimacy of holding and being held. 

You didn’t picture Linda as much of a hugger.

The house was decorated. It was the least he could do for you really. This was the first Christmas since your Mother died that you and your sister wouldn’t be completing your tradition, but you tried not to think about it. Ransom humored you just after Thanksgiving, bringing home a fake Christmas tree, ornaments and lights. You’d ordered a couple of extras online and three stockings were on the mantle, Christmas lights lined the windows giving the house a warm glow. 

“I’m sending everyone in my family a copy.” He told you, “a signed copy.” Of his book. Rubbing their noses in it. The book has firmly held the number one spot on the New York Times Bestseller List for weeks. Already over a million copies have been sold. Whether its due to the fame of the not-murder trial or Harlan’s legacy you couldn’t be sure, but even without those things the book was incredibly good. 

Ransom could have made it on his own, a long time ago. 

“You don’t think that’s a little crass?” He released you long enough for you to finish loading the dishwasher, watching you place the pod of soap and shut it like he didn’t realize that’s actually what you’re supposed to do. 

“Fuck them,” He scoffed, “They’ve always hated me.” 

“To be fair,” You turned to the soft sweater clad man leaning against the kitchen island, “You’re an asshole.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, but that’s why I’m so charming.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

It could almost be domestic. The way things were now. So different from before. Yeah Ransom was still bringing a new girl home almost every night and sure you could hear them fuck from your bed on the other side of the wall, but for the most part it was always just the two of you. 

His parents never ventured out here much anymore, since his book was published he had a deadline for the next book that needed to be completed so he wrote almost every day now, sometimes for hours. You made his every meal, on the odd occasion you’d order out. Sometimes when he needed a break he would come sit on the sofa with you as you watched whatever show you were currently obsessed with. One time you walked in on him watching Love Island by himself and you hadn’t let him live it down yet, maybe not ever. 

He grew soft, sweet almost. A kiss against your palm. Hugs from behind as you worked at the stove. A snuggle of feet under his thigh as you watched Miracle on 34th Street by a crackling fire. Wordlessly anticipating each others needs. It spoke to a high level of intimacy. Something you both chose to ignore. 

It was nice. 

He didn’t go out on Christmas Eve. Not only because his usual bar was closing earlier than normal because of the holiday, he assured you, but because he wanted to stay in. Snow was falling thick outside, a foot of it already blanketed on the ground. To tell the truth you didn’t want him to go out in this weather anyway. You knew he was willing to drive a little drunk and he didn’t exactly obey speed limits. It was safer here. 

You were still reeling from the argument you had with your sister earlier in the night. You called her to see what she was doing, but she was at a friends house and wanted nothing to do with you. Since the house arrest you haven’t exactly been on speaking terms. She wasn’t Ransom’s biggest fan and didn’t really understand why you needed to do this. You could kind of blame it on yourself for her having no idea how much money you needed to keep her in school, her cello and lessons weren’t cheap and nor are the electronics she seemed so attached to. This two year sentence you were playing out for Ransom would put you in the green, far in the green, so far in the green that you were willing to put up with all his petty bullshit and be okay with your sister hating you if it meant your futures were secure. 

After all this was over, you might just be able to go back to school. 

“Are you hungry?” You removed your feet from their spot beneath his thigh, grabbing both of your now empty mugs, padding over to the kitchen. Your stomach had just begun to growl. The stew you had simmering on the stove was ready to eat. 

“Yeah,” Ransom replied, not turning away from the television. Santa’s trial had just began. It was a strange thing, having him watch classic Christmas movies, soft in sweats and a comical christmas sweater you jokingly bought him. “I look good in anything.” He said. He wasn’t lying. 

You poured two bowls full, bringing over a plate with some crusty bread he was kind enough to go out and grab for you earlier in the day. “Thank you,” He said softly as he took the bowl from your hands, eyes still not moving from the screen. He quickly spooned some into his mouth, 

“It’s hot.” You said, his only reaction being trying to rapidly cool it in his mouth, his tongue probably burned. He gave you a glare, before resting the bowl on the coffee table. This could almost be a relationship. The two of you together. In this oddly domestic moment. He was the only man in your life right now, it wasn’t like you had many options for seeking others. 

That’s why you would get so hot and bothered with him. And that’s the only reason. 

He had never seen A Miracle on 34th Street before. You’d think with how old fashioned Harlan was he would have at least seen it once or twice, but then again, any time spent together as a family was always strained and argumentative. 

Even when he was a kid though? He was the first grandchild. His mother was the first child of Harlan. You were sure when he was a child he was spoiled rotten, more toys than he could play with, never wanting for anything. But that wasn’t exactly true. The touch starved trust-fund baby didn’t get the one thing kids need the most, more than presents, toys, electronics. Real genuine love. 

His Mother loved him to an extent. It’s why you were the one on house arrest instead of him, but she thought loving him meant giving him whatever he wants. When we all know that’s not what kids want. They want to be told no, given structure, rules. How many times have you gotten into arguments with your sister because you didn’t allow her to go roam the streets at night without supervision or give her money for some stupid thing she wouldn’t be even bothered with in two weeks?

But you could also see how no one really knows how to raise a child and you just try your best. Having Harlan for a Father couldn’t have been easy. 

Under the tree that you’d decorated and in the stockings you’d hung were presents. Ransom had everything he’d ever wanted, but you couldn’t help but want him to have something to open tomorrow morning. Granted it wouldn’t be much, but it’s the thought that counts. In the fridge you already have most of what will go into tomorrow’s dinner made. Hopefully your sister thinks about your extended invitation and Ransom can go pick her up at some point tomorrow. You missed her, a lot. Your heart ached with wishes that she was here right now. 

Ransom’s eyes had gotten shifty. The movie was coming to an end and his bowl was empty. “Did you want more?” You asked him, thinking that would be the cause of his shiftiness, maybe indecisive? 

“No.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not going to be home for dinner tomorrow.” You weren’t sure you heard that properly.

“You’re not going to be home….” You started, picking his bowl up from the coffee table and standing, “For dinner on Christmas?” 

He was scared to tell you, that’s cute. Your body was bristling with anger as you took the stew off the stove to cool before you could properly store it. He didn’t move from his spot on the couch. 

“My Mother wants me to go to this dinner with-” 

“So every other time your Mother wants you to do something it’s ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat shit’, but when we’ve already made plans for tomorrow and my sister-” You felt tears prickle in your eyes. “What the fuck Ransom?” His face was stoic from the couch. 

“Why does it matter?” He asked, “I stayed home tonight!”

“And that makes up for it?” You stood at the kitchen counter, staring across the room at him. “I already started on dinner, Ransom. You couldn’t have maybe said something while I was prepping all of this?” You gestured to the fridge. He shrugged. 

“I didn’t know that was all for tomorrow.” His face still betrayed no expression. 

“She can come here,” You offered, “We can have dinner here.” His eyes shifted away from yours to watch the rolling credits. 

“She doesn’t want to.” He stood from the couch, rounding towards the tree slowly, searching. 

“Why not?” He was being shady about this, the whole situation was strange. “I already have all of this food prepared and I can’t pick up Julia myself… Ransom?” 

“She doesn’t like being around you.” He stated honestly, he picked a box out among the presents under the tree, eyes meeting yours as he fumbled with it. 

“What?” You get it. She’s technically your employer. But she’s never had any issue dropping in for dinner or putting you to work on some task for herself. 

“Listen,” He came closer to where you still stood, your chest tightening. “Y/N, I hate my family-”

“Then why are you going to-”

“I have to do this.” His cheeks were flushed, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My therapist… I don’t want to do this.” He slid the box across the counter top. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.” 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better about it?” You scoffed, picking up the gold wrapped box. His mouth opened and then quickly shut without speaking. You sighed heavily, a headache coming on. “I’ve got nothing, Ransom. All I wanted to do tomorrow was spend some time with my family and if you’re not going to be around…” 

“I know, I can maybe go pick your sister up in the morning?” He offered. Your eyes watery, staring at him. He doesn’t get it. Your heart was aching a bit. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You spat, leaving the present still wrapped in front of you, thumbing the thick wrapping paper. 

“I know.” He swallowed. 

“What does your therapist want you to do?” You never talked about what went on in his therapy sessions. He was too closed off after them, drank too heavily, lashed out too easily. You’d let him slowly work through his refractory period and let him cozy up to you once he was feeling better. 

Ransom felt awkward, you could feel it. He was uncomfortable. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” He asked. He was turning. He got too emotional. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do or where I have to do it. I said I would go pick Julia up, I’m giving you what you want.” 

“Fine.” You were staring each other down. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there to get her around noon and then you can go have dinner with the people you hate.” He rolled his eyes, 

“I don’t know what you think this is, Y/N.” He scoffed, “You still work for me, we’re not playing house here.” 

“Then stop making me.” You spat back at him, both of you in a similar stance, hands gripping the edge of the stone counter top. 

“I’m not making you do anything.” There was a rage growing in his eyes. 

“You are, Ransom. I take care of you like you’re my own fucking child. I clean up all of your messes, I cook all of your fucking food, I do everything for you.” 

“I don’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to! You literally just expect it of me.” You yelled. 

“Because it’s your job.” He laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “I have no loyalty to you Y/N. None.” Fine.

Fine.

You hated him. You fucking hated him. You were doing all of this for him. And you’ve never felt more dumb in your life. The house arrest bracelet on your ankle felt heavier than ever. It itches like mad. 

“Fuck you Ransom.” You rounded the counter, moving towards the stairs when he grabbed your arm. 

“Take the gift.” He slapped the box into your hand. 

“I don’t want the fucking gift, Hugh.” He looked taken aback for a moment.

“Don’t call me that.” His hand fell from your arm, stepping closer to you. 

“That’s what you want, right?” You asked, “You want me to do all of these things for you and take care of you and fucking hold you when you need comfort but when I’m fucking trying to make things easier for you, you’re all the sudden ‘I have no loyalty to you.” 

“Wait a fucking minute,” He growled, “I take care of you too. Who the fuck buys all the shit you want on a fucking whim? You’re in the mood for curry, I get you curry. You make a comment about how you really want to decorate for Christmas and who fucking gets you everything you need to do that? You say that you really want to get into fucking knitting and who gets you all the fucking shit you need to fucking knit?” 

“Buying me things doesn’t mean you care about me Ransom.” You shook the box in your hand for emphasis. “All I wanted to know is what your therapist wants you to do tomorrow, you can go have dinner with your Mother. It’s fine. I just wanted you to fucking open up to me.” 

“I am open with you!” He yells, “You know more about me than anyone else in my fucking life, it’s hard for me okay? I can never escape you, you’re always fucking there. I don’t get to fucking-” He placed his hands on his hips, turning from you. He let out a heavy, slow breath. Calming himself down. “I don’t want to go tomorrow, trust me Y/N, I really don’t, but I have to.” His eyes met yours, softer this time. 

You felt like some part of you was being irrational. This dinner might help his growth. Whatever milestone he was reaching with his therapist, this could be really good for him. But you also felt a little selfish, you wanted him here, with you. You felt more like his family than anyone else. Or at least, he felt more like your family and he should be here to spend Christmas with his family. You knew he felt at least somewhat the same, if the gifts addressed to Julia under the tree from him were anything to go by. You wanted him here, but he wasn’t yours. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the tears that were once threatening to spill, now did. “It’s fine.” Your head was pounding. “It’s fine.” 

“I know it’s not,” He said softly. “But we can maybe do presents and lunch before I go,” He gestured towards the tree. “I should be back in time for the Grinch.” You were shaking a bit as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against his body. “I’m sorry baby.” He was so warm, a little sweaty from arguing, but warm. “I’ll make it up to you.” A soft whisper into your hair. 

The little gold box was soon opened, a new rose gold cartier bracelet slipped onto your wrist and Ransom left you and your sister the next day wearing the sweater you had so carefully knit for him. 

2021

Your breath hitched in your throat, back arching, a loud moan breaking from your lungs. How was he so good at this? Ransom’s tongue was at work between your thighs, large hands cradling your hips, burying his face in your moist heat. You were so close to cumming. And he knew it. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his face as you rode your orgasm until your body was too sensitive to continue, Ransom moving his attentions to press his lips sloppily against your thighs before making his way up your body. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he lamented as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, parting your thighs fully around his hips to tease your opening with the blunt head of his cock. “So fucking beautiful.” He moaned into your open mouth as he breeches you. 

He felt so fucking good. You’d never get over it, you were sure. Ransom was patient, biding his time. He wasn’t that guy who had to be as deep inside you as possible, chasing his orgasm by stabbing your cervix. Over time he mapped out the location of your g-spot, shifting his hips and cock to brush against the spot with every thrust, working you up and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Those girls screamed with good reason. Just as you did now. Gushing wet around him as you came for the second time, looking up wantonly into his flushed face, lips swollen from first kissing and then pulling you apart with his tongue. Your fingers curled in his chest hair as he picked up pace, chasing his own release now, your hips lifting off the bed to aid him.

“So fucking good baby,” His eyes screwed shut as he moans, arms trembling, “You fuck me so good baby.” He sat back on his haunches, pulling your hips roughly to his, your sensitive clit grinding against his pubic bone almost bringing you over again as he cums. Hips stuttering into yours as you feel him empty himself into you. 

His head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes dropping to find you, hands still gripping your hips and as much of your ass as he can manage. “I love you.” 

It never gets old. 

He said those words to you ever chance he got. It was as if he was trying to make up for a lifetime without it. Love. 

Early morning sleepy soft kisses, I love you.

Silent breakfast with your feet in his lap, I love you.

Scratching his back as you peered over his shoulder while he was writing, I love you. 

Feet stuffed under his thigh watching Outlander and drinking hot tea, I love you.

Buried deep inside you, panting mouths a breath apart, bodies flushed and sweaty, sheets damp with cum, I love you.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.” 

It was intense. His love for you.

He tried hard. He didn’t know how it was supposed to work. A real relationship, a real honest to god loving relationship. But he was trying. 

The first few months of the relationship you gained a lot of new jewelry, a new iPad, clothes, shoes. “You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me, Ransom.” 

Then came flowers and lots of them. Sometimes just one, sometimes a bouquet. Regardless there were multiple vases that stayed filled throughout the house, always with fresh flowers never given time to fully wilt. 

After that was the touching. Always some sort of physical contact. Whether you were cuddling on the couch or a blink away from sleep with his ankle wrapped around yours, if you were in a room together there was always some sort of contact. 

Your house arrest bracelet was removed, and a gold anklet replaced it. You were free to leave, live on your own. Move out and back into that shitty apartment with your sister, but this was early days in the newfound relationship with Ransom. 

He’d bought you a house. 

He’s paying for your sisters school.

He’s paying you to still work for him.

It was a Victorian. The house. Not at all like his contemporary cube he knew you despised. A rich dark brown with a large porch. Much too big for just you and your sister, so 6 months after the two of you moved in, Ransom sold his house and moved in too. 

Julia was warming up to him. At first she wasn’t a fan. It took a long time, many dinners with Ransom, ‘family outings’, you hoped she could see the way he treated you now. The way he’s kind of always treated you. Her love was easily bought with the new house, her latest generation iPhone and the fact that she now had a monthly allowance. It didn’t stop you from making her get an after school job at the school library though. 

Now with a house of your own, you were doing something you’d always dreamed of. Watching Ransom try to hang Christmas lights. 

“I’ll just pay someone to do it,” He offered, looking skeptically at the boxes you had placed on the dining room table, “I’m not going up there to do it.” 

But there he was, up there doing it while you looked up at him from the bottom of the ladder. “This is the fucking worst.” He exclaimed, taking the light clips and attaching them to the roof. “Why are we doing this?” 

“Because you love me and you want to make me happy.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, squinting against the sun. 

“I���m not so sure,” He attached a few more clips within reach before steadily climbing down the ladder. “I think you’re trying to kill me.” 

“I’m the beneficiary on your life insurance right?” You jokingly asked as his feet hit the ground. He laughed at your bad joke, 

“I think that’s in pretty poor taste, but…” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Yes.” 

“Julia should be home soon and then we can decorate the tree,” You wrapped your arms around his middle, capturing his lips with your own, “And make some cookies,” You kissed him again, 

“And have a drink.” He smirked against your lips. 

“You have a therapy appointment today,” You walked over to the steps, “You’re not having anything to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you once more, shooing you into the house as he re-positioned the ladder to go back up and finish stringing the lights. 

You had to be proud of him. Court mandated therapy ended when your house arrest did, but he still went every week. At first it was due to a little pushing by you, but eventually he made the appointments on his own. He was getting better. Still a dick, but that was his nature. He wasn’t quick to anger anymore, his emotions took a more level head. And he was now publishing books twice a year. He’s got five books out now, and almost 100 million copies sold. Which is incredible. 

You started back to school, Ransom wanting to start his own publishing company, “I’m paying for you to go to business school as an investment in our future.” He claimed. Once you were done with school your job would be to then help him open his own publishing company where you’d overlook everything. A daunting task, but it was hard not to believe in yourself when Ransom made himself your own personal cheerleader. “You’re brilliant,” He would say, “You’re so smart, you’ve just been dealt a bad hand until now.” 

And now he was stacking that hand to the best of his ability. 

Finals had been last week and you still marveled at the fact that as you poured over your last assignments and studying, Ransom would make you coffee and massage your shoulders whereas you would usually do the same for him as he was finishing a book. 

You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with him, the first time he’d invited you was strange and you didn’t know what would even be discussed, but as you sat in the session and he was finally completely bare to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was his idea and not his therapist’s. 

That session changed the dynamic between the two of you for sure. 

After the dam broke, the two of you having sex for the first time and Ransom’s admission of love it wasn’t easy. He was still an asshole and as someone who had never been in a relationship before, this first real relationship, he didn’t really know how to behave. 

You had one session a month together and it was probably one of the best ideas Ransom ever had. 

He was a little sullen when he came home later that night, coming to curl himself around you as you placed the cookies you and Julia had baked earlier into the decorative metal tins you had just bought. 

Sometimes it was like this, sadness. His lips gently pressing themselves against your cheek, his body tightly pressed against yours trying to pull as much comfort as he possibly could. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispered softly, “Not yet.” 

“Okay.” You knew what he needed and what he needed was a little bit of time. You offered him a cookie, chocolate and peanut butter, still warm. He took it gently from your fingers, pulling away to go to his study, but not before pulling you into a soft lingering kiss. An apology for what you knew would be a distant night. A ‘I don’t know when I’ll be coming to bed’ night. You were sure you’d have three new chapters to go over in the morning.

You loved the snow. Almost a foot of it had fallen overnight, frosting the windows and giving your home a beautiful Christmas glow. It made your home feel cozy and well slept as you stretched your limbs out, hand coming to run across Ransom’s back. So he did come to bed after all. You rolled over to face him, laying on his belly, arms folded under his pillow facing you. 

God he is beautiful. 

You hated it about him. So handsome. You brushed his fallen hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his scrunched brow. He was letting his beard grow out for the winter. It made him even more attractive, the bastard. 

Julia was just getting up for school, standing in the kitchen in her uniform, eating toast and facetiming a friend. She was in a carpool, this house you lived in, while comfortably distanced from others, was in a neighborhood of other kids that went to her same school. Something you’re sure Ransom took into account when buying this house in the first place. You drove the kids to school on Friday when you didn’t have any classes. Today was a different parent’s turn. 

“Can I take some of these to school?” She asked, picking up a tin of cookies. 

“Yeah, but take the red one.” You popped a k-cup into the keurig. “Those haven’t touched any nuts.” 

“Mila’s Mom said we can go to the mall after school to go get presents for the pollyanna our class is having, is that okay?” She was such a good kid. Getting older now, she was almost ready to learn how to drive, something you’d been dreading, but for whatever reason Ransom was really looking forward to. 

“You have money still?” You asked, preparing a second cup of coffee for the sleeping bear upstairs. 

“I mean,” She smirked, “Unless you want to give me more…?” You rolled your eyes, turning towards your younger sibling. 

“What time will you be home?” The car had just pulled up outside, horn letting out a quick ‘honk’ to let her know they were here. 

Julia shrugged, hugging you, “We might get dinner, but probably no later than 8. I’ll text you.” She shrugged her coat on, opening the front door as you called behind her, 

“Text me when you get to the mall and when you’re on your way home!” 

“Okay!” She yelled back, trudging through the snow to the car.

“Keep your location on!” You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you, 

“Okay!” Annoyed this time.

“I love you!” You shouted as she got in the car, slamming the door behind her. Your phone chimed with reply, 

love you too

With that you went to rouse the sleeping man upstairs. 

He groaned unhappily when you woke him up, but it was quickly soothed by the coffee you’d supplied him with. 

Christmas was quickly approaching. The first Christmas you’d be spending together as a real, honest to god, family. In your own home, ready to begin your own traditions. The house was beautifully decorated and almost always smelled like cookies and a Christmas movie or music was always playing in the background. 

There was a truly sweet moment you’d wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Julia rolling out cookie dough, Christmas music blaring obnoxiously loud and Ransom coming out from his study yelling, 

“I can’t write anything in a house this loud!” Walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a soft ambling. Your sister and you looking at him and laughing, the red faced lumberjack quickly losing steam as he realized he was wearing the hideous Christmas sweater you’d jokingly bought him last year. “It’s the warmest sweater I own.” He claimed. Sure. Sure it is. 

He turned the music back up a little louder, coming to a happy medium. His embarrassment waning as he looked at the two of you in the kitchen. A family that didn’t argue with every other word. People who genuinely loved each other. Something he never knew he wanted or needed. He came over to you, gently clasping your hands before tugging you into his body to ridiculously dance around to Jingle Bell Rock. The three of you peeling with laughter. Was this even real life anymore? With a soft parting kiss and a peak over your sisters shoulder to steal some cookie dough he was reluctantly walking back to his study, coming to join you twenty minutes later after finishing the chapter he’d been working on all day. 

The three of you spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching the cheesy A Christmas Prince series on Netflix and eating what was sure your body weight in popcorn. Cozy with your little family. 

“Do you think she’d like a puppy?” Ransom whispered into your neck one night. 

“Do not.” You were close to sleep, just about to drift off, when his question stirred you awake. 

“I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, fingers gently tugging your nipple. 

“I’ll be the one taking care of it,” You whimpered as his other hand sunk between your thighs, “Do not get her a puppy.” His lips met your shoulder and you turned in his arms, thighs parting as he lightly stroked your clit. 

“You’ll get there.” He pressed his lips against yours, teasing your entrance with his fingers, his now hard cock nudging against your thigh. “You’ll warm up to the idea.” 

“No…” You whined, his fingers beginning to stroke your g-spot, his body coming to lay over yours, his eyes half lidded and lips wet and red came to meet yours as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. “Fuck.” His fingers laced themselves through yours, pressing your hands against the sheets as he began to rock his hips slowly into yours. 

“You’re so sweet on me baby,” He mouthed against your lips, “So sweet on us.” He moaned. Your hips ground against his with every thrust. This slow love making that was making you gush around him, pussy making obscene sounds with every tilt of his hips, gently brushing the parts of you that make your legs shake. He chest close to yours, the begging in his eyes, 

“You’ll be such a good mother,” His hips met yours a little harder on that one causing you to gasp, pussy clenching around him. “Gonna give me what I want for Christmas?” He asked. He did this sometimes, knowing you were still on birth control and the actual relationship was still relatively new, the two of you had been together for almost a year now, you knew that he’d been toying with the idea of having a baby. You’d talked about it in therapy recently. 

“I love you,” He moaned, his hips build up a little speed as your legs came to wrap high around his waist. “I can’t wait,” He groaned, “So good to me.” His lips capturing yours passionately as his hips stalled, grinding himself against your g-spot, pubic bone rubbing your clit as you found your orgasm, pussy gushing wet dripping down his thighs onto the bed as you moaned into his mouth. 

“You’ll be such a good mother baby, such a good fucking mother.” His hips picked back up in pace, “I’d do anything for you baby. Anything.” He was chasing his release now, thrusting against your sensitive clit making you reel again before releasing your hands and grabbing your thighs, pushing them back high against the bed, just making you take it. You both had to try to be quiet here, your sister on the floor above you, your hand covered your mouth as you tried to muffle the loud obnoxious squealing that came uncontrollably as his hips slapped against your ass in this position. Sweat forming on his brow and head thrown back as he groans through his teeth, feeling him empty his seed deep against your cervix. 

In all the years you’d known him Ransom was never a kid person. He didn’t like small children, but he also didn’t come into contact with them often which is why it was so strange two months ago when he originally brought up the idea. “I think we would make pretty okay parents,” He said, “Better than mine definitely.” It made your heart flutter, thinking of a life with him. Knowing that he was also thinking about a life with you, but it’s just not the right time. 

What wasn’t surprising about any of this was on Christmas morning, after breakfast and the exchanging of handmade sweaters, new books to read, a couple new apple watches, and your sister and you receiving matching earrings, a gorgeous little blue nose pit bull puppy, one that reminded you of your childhood dog was brought out with a little pink bow around its neck. Ransom ignored your glare as he handed the sweet little thing to your sister, who was crying in happiness. 

He would remind you later on that he found you cooing to the sweet little thing only a few minutes after that, the puppy curled up in your arms, licking your fingers in earnest. 

“Don’t you have something else?” Julia asked him. 

“Julia this is plenty,” You scolded, “He’s gotten you enough.” She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not for me.” She laughed. The little puppy sleeping in her arms and you scratched it behind it’s ears, turning to Ransom who shifted nervously to one knee, a ring box open in his hand. 

“Stop it.” Came out from a very watery smile. He licked his lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth before starting, 

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” 

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