willowtab

[willowtab]

TIA

Hey guys, I have a BuckyxOC fanfiction in the works and I have some chapters ready to post. Can anyone help me start a masterlist for these?

[willowtab]

need a ride? | oneshot

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x assistant!reader

summary: save a horse, ride a congressman. after waiting for congressman james bucky barnes to finish his emergency meeting— which lasted the whole night, he offers you a ride home, at the back of his motorcycle. like, what could go wrong?

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI. reader is female. swearing, dom!bucky, unprotected sex, piv, semi-public sex, his motorcycle plays a big part (ok they fuck in the motorcycle), creampie, reader is down bad but bucky is down badder, porn with plot, y/n and bucky are both horny, no use of y/n.

wc: 8.6k

author’s note: in honor of me graduating and thunderbolts hd, i present to you my first oneshot! i hope u like it <3

“I’m really sorry you had to wait that long.”

An apologetic sigh came from Congressman Bucky Barnes as he entered his personal office. He looked at you, seated at your desk, laptop still on and fingers clicking the keyboard. You were composing emails and scheduling them to be sent at exactly 8:00 AM sharp tomorrow.

The government’s forte was not making lives easier for its people— no, it’s making sure their underpaid employees work at least overtime every single day.

So, you weren’t exactly pleased.

You had been waiting for Bucky for at least 2 hours now, he was cornered into an emergency meeting that started around quarter to nine. You looked at the time on the bottom right of your device, 10:58 PM. To pass the time, you opted to just do the work for tomorrow earlier, so in the future, you can thank yourself in that matter.

Being stuck alone in the office with grey carpets that reeked of stress and greed with the fluorescent lights just above your head, flickering every now and then to make sure that you were still awake, and the shadow it gave exposed your face heating with annoyance.

Your hands paused for a brief moment, turning your gaze to the man who stood near the glass door, hand in waist. The other hand was loosening his tie from its tight grasp on his neck then running his hands through his hair. You looked away, you didn’t need to be attracted to him right now, you were annoyed.

But, what the hell. Is it even possible for a human to look even finer under stress? You compared him to diamonds— better under pressure.

For you, it wasn’t fine at all, he had destroyed all your usual habits of cooking dinner, watching your favorite series, and sleeping at exactly the time where you were at the office right now. You couldn’t leave here without ensuring that Bucky’s schedule had all gone out according to plan. One emergency conference, and your night was ruined.

“It’s okay, I was just wrapping up as well.” You managed to plaster a polite smile, you couldn’t exactly admit to your boss that you were kind of infuriated at him. Kind of, because you couldn’t fully get mad at Bucky, your infatuation always seemed to be stronger. Could you really even help it if he looked glorious every single day? Wearing a usual black or navy blue suit and tie, hair slicked back with gel, and a set of blue eyes just always piercing through your soul.

Suddenly, the room ran out of air for you to breathe on, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was the strong perfume he wore— an oddly lavender aroma with a kick of spice thanks to its amber base. It was sleek, mature, and downright sexy. Or, if it was just his presence. It probably was just him all in all.

“I’m really sorry.” He looked utterly devastated in a manner that made him even hotter than he usually was, you couldn’t afford to stand up just yet and realize that there was a wet patch on your chair. “You can take a sick day tomorrow. I don’t have that much meetings—“

“It’s fine, Mr. Barnes. Really.” You cut him off, you didn’t even care anymore if your annoyance was obvious. You wanted to go home badly and melt down your bed, eyes shut, maybe dream of him when you have calmed down. “I’ll fix my things, then I’ll go.” You added, slowly standing up from your desk and picking up your bag to put your laptop in.

“I told you to just call me Bucky.” He looked at you, taking note of your particular habit of always calling him by his last name.

Well, he did give you the freedom to be casual. Too casual. Casual in a way that you might mistake for a flirty remark— like the one that you’d give a handsome man you’ll see on a bar then never again.

You couldn't call him that for your own personal sanity— and because you were too afraid to reveal anything about schoolgirl hopeless romantic feelings and imaginations straight out of a fanfiction written by people who had the same amount of thirst for the ex-assassin turned U.S. House Representative.

“That would be really unprofessional since you’re my boss.” You gave him a dry, sarcastic chuckle, trying to be humorous, but it came out rude instead due to your sour mood.

“Right, right. Well, people usually call me that. Just sayin’.” Bucky gave you a tight-lipped smile and lowered his head down.

“How are you getting home? You have a car?” He asked, trying to spark a conversation again.

“I just walk. My apartment’s not that far, like a 15-minute walk from here.” You sighed, finished packing up your stuff, ready to go. Your heels clacked on the waxed floor when you picked up your things and went to the direction of the door, where Bucky was, seemingly waiting for you.

Your attention was now focused on tidying up your clothes, fixing your pants as well as patting them free of dust, adjusting the sleeves of your blazers, and pulling up the neckline of the inner blouse you wore. You grew conscious when you realized that Bucky was watching, his jaw unusually tightened. He’d probably reprimand you for wearing clothing that slightly showed the top of your chest, but you didn’t care for that, not right now at least.

“It’s unsafe for you to walk at this time.” He stated the obvious as his eyebrow slightly raised, looking down on you.

You were slightly thankful that the usual pencil skirt you had always worn was in the washer today, or else you’d have a hard time battling off countless catcallers in the street around your area.

You pulled out your phone from one of the pockets in your pants. “I’m just gonna call an uber.” You shrugged, opening the app as Bucky watched your thumbs hovering the device.

“I doubt you’ll find someone who accepts that, they’re all probably snoring by now.” He retaliated.

You only gave a hum in response, too tired to think of a witty retort anymore, your soles were hurting from the inches your shoes had. Your eyes were heavy and you were seriously considering sleeping in this office right now, just slouched in your chair.

“I could give you a ride.”

You immediately looked up from your screen, eyes slightly widened in his offer. Bucky, giving you a ride, in the backseat of his motorcycle? It definitely seemed like a good way to end your life. You thought about it, he’d look insanely mouth watering maneuvering the bike that was as big as him. Your hands wrapped around his waist, feeling his abs and you pressed against Bucky’s back.

You couldn’t, you shook your head in a panicked manner.

“It’s fine, I can wait.“ You gave him a reassured smile. The universe was giving you the opportunity of a lifetime to finally bag Bucky Barnes, but you had no other choice but to reject the notion— you needed this job badly, enough pay to buy you a few guilty pleasures, and the privilege to fawn over your boss everyday.

“And if there are no available drivers nearby?” He questioned you. Bucky’s face was covered in the expression of sarcasm, he certainly thought it was unsafe for a woman to go home this late— and it was his fault, he felt accountable. The least he could do was to safely bring you home.

You, on the other hand, were completely against this. Even if it was in your wildest dreams, it was unprofessional. The scenario to ride with him (or ride him) was straight out of your dirty fantasies, but not under these circumstances where one of you could be put at risk— worst case scenario, the both of you will.

“I’ll just walk then.” You squint your eyes at the tone of sass in his remark, slightly amused. He scoffed at your reaction, not pleased by your response.

“Please,” He ultimately sighed in defeat. “Just accept my offer.” Bucky looked at you with determination swirling his iris.

“I’m sure someone’s gonna accept me.” But you did not budge, not even in the slightest. Maybe just a little, but you were still in the right mind to say no. “Please go ahead, don’t wait for me.” You gave Bucky a comforting grin once more, taking note of the fact that he had a meeting first thing in the morning, he couldn’t afford to be late.

The super soldier stared at you for a moment, his usual thing to do whenever debating something in his head— or when zoning out. His gaze pierced yours, thinking if it’s really okay, or if you were just too annoyed to even face him right now.

But he didn’t like to push people just to get what he wanted (sometimes), he tried to convince himself that you were capable of defending yourself outside, under the light of the moon. Albeit you were a skilled assistant, seemingly efficient in every task that Bucky can throw at you.

Organizing his schedule? Check.

Managing his appointments? Check.

Handle communicating with the press? Excellent.

And being absolutely hard headed right now? You were valedictorian, flying with all the colors in the rainbow.

But he couldn’t exactly say the same for your brilliance in the streets. The two of you weren’t that personally close yet for him to know— although sometimes, he wanted to. He can’t risk the life of his precious assistant, or his work will be very disastrous and chaotic, that’s all there really is to.

“Fine,” He raised his hands up, seemingly signifying that he surrenders. “I’ll go.”

You only gave him a grin in response, you weren’t even sure yourself if you’d be able to get an uber— but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your boss when you'd decide to just sleep in his office instead. Meanwhile, Bucky only gave you a look of suspicion before walking to his desk, which was adjacent to yours, picking up his bag and a few paperworks in his arm, his footsteps led him to the door again, where you were.

“I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Barnes.” You politely greeted him goodbye; like you always would on any other day, the only difference this time was that it was nearing midnight— and the two of you were the only ones left in this building.

Bucky muttered something underneath his breath, you didn’t catch it, it was more of a grumble rather than a word that’s actually coherent. He gave you his usual, charming smile, before opening the door and closing it behind his back— footsteps getting fainter by the second.

It had been over an hour since you uttered that phrase to your boss, a literal hour of hoping someone would accept you.

You groaned in frustration, standing from Bucky’s comfortable swivel office chair, then sitting back down again in hopelessness. You were beginning to think that you should have just accepted his offer, not chicken out like you always did.

But no, you were left alone to deal with the consequences of your stupid decisions.

You were left with no other choice but to walk home, maybe ride in a cab if you’ll have the chance to find one. But it was almost midnight, you didn’t like to get your hopes up anymore. It felt foolish to even have a sliver of faith that you were going to get sleep tonight. You sighed, stood up from the seat, meticulously arranged Bucky’s desk before you left, and picked up your things that were sprawled in your own desk, after you had just organized them a few moments ago.

Closing the glass door on your way out, you prepared yourself for whatever obstacle there may be outside the streets, you hoped there were none— although that’s statistically impossible, you assumed. Your shoes hitting the ground was the only noise that echoed throughout the floor, your eyes darting from left and right to observe the closed lights, except for the one by the elevator.

It was eerily quiet, but you had that coming, leaving the office a few minutes after the clock hit midnight. You really didn’t have a choice— a curtain congressman with a vibranium arm left you with this predicament, then you made yourself suffer more. It was an unfortunate situation, but you’d accept any mode of transportation now, as long as you still have time to rest to prepare for tomorrow— which was actually just a few hours later.

You walked to the nearest elevator, which was fortunately just a slight left to where Bucky’s office was. Letting out a small yawn, you reached for the down button beside it, pressing it gently. Your mind started to wonder about him, like clockwork.

It was hard to not like him— Bucky was the perfect guy you could bring home to meet your parents because of his gentlemanly nature. But the contrast of that to his physical attributes always made you wonder… if he were also a gentleman in other places.

It wasn’t even just that, or the fact that he’s a decorated veteran— his upstanding morals made him even hotter.

The world had been familiar with the controversy of him in politics, his past, and if he was even worthy of being one. But come on now, Bucky’s probably more qualified than half of the people in the government right now— his virtues and principles alone.

His thought process on hiring you was even more baffling, you didn’t go on any interviews or even met him before you got hired for the job. You simply sent a resume, a short message explaining your interest to take the position, and sent it to his email— which you weren’t even sure was his. You found it through a shady hiring website in the last page.

It didn’t even have any information about the tasks you would need to do, the qualifications and requirements needed, or what you would be exactly assisting for. A few hours after you sent your application, he had replied; a short message expressing that you are hired, with the address of his office at the bottom of the email. Sent at 3:07 AM.

He really needed an assistant.

The first thing you had asked Bucky when you went to his office— which was coincidentally in Washington, DC as well, the House of Representatives, to be exact. The question that slipped from your tongue was— what was exactly your basis in hiring me?

“You were the only one who actually sent a resume— not a weird picture or a love letter.” He replied, curtly.

Since then, you practically took every interaction like he was head over heels for you as well. The brushing of fingers whenever you’d hand out a document, or when you would catch him looking at you through your peripheral vision in your desk. And the offer he made a while ago, to give you a ride in his motorcycle. This was bad, you needed to have an actual social life before you get fully delusional over your boss, as if you weren’t already.

You shook your head violently as the doors to the elevator opened with a ding, you entered the oddly spacious machine with utmost caution. Your left finger pressed the button that will lead you to the basement. The lobby was closed now, you could be actually stuck there the whole night.

“I need coffee.” You thought to yourself, before the elevator opened its doors to welcome you in the dark basement parking of the building. Even though it was dimly lit, you could still clearly see the rusty exit door. It was on the opposite end of the elevator, a bit far because of the massive size of the parking lots, which looked odd when it wasn’t full of vehicles in different sizes and colors.

You gripped your bag tighter, and started walking in a frigid manner away from the elevator, which quickly closed when it felt your presence leave its space. There was an aura of discomfort in the fact that you were the only person here left, in this creepy place— where no one could probably hear if you let out a scream. It was probably from the true crime shows you had been binge watching for you to grow paranoid.

The moment you’ll get out of this building, was the last moment of this happening ever again. You should’ve never waited for him, but it was your responsibility. Your pace started to grow quicker, heels getting louder by how fast you were walking. The last thing you needed was a serial killer suddenly running around all loose.

“I take it that you’re walking home.”

“Fuck!”

Your body jumped in surprise, mostly fear. Because you thought you were going to get killed— worse sliced alive or shot by someone who craved vengeance. You felt a presence looming beside you, as Bucky Barnes came out in the shadow, arms crossed, eyes immediately met yours. His usual suit and tie was replaced with a leather jacket now, which also did not help in the fact that he goes to the gym everyday, absolutely ripped inside. You tried your best not to imagine what’s under, tried.

“Why are you still here?” You exclaimed, a dread of annoyance coated every syllable of your question as you turned to him. If you were frustrated at him then, you were infuriated now. Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, walking towards you.

“Wanted to see how long you’d take up on my offer.” He gave you a teasing grin. “I was about to leave, but I heard the elevator.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement, probably his enhanced senses working their magic again, you didn’t question it.

“You waited for me?” Your eyes slightly softened, as you let out a breath of relief from the scare he unintentionally made a few seconds ago.

“It’s my fault you’re here at this hour.” Bucky was only a few inches away from you, the conversation echoing loud in the basement where only the two of you could hear.

“I told you, it’s fine.” You sighed. “Plus, you can’t scare people around like that! Lurking in the shadows like a madman.” Your hand went to your chest, signifying that Bucky scared the shit out of you. He gave a small chuckle in return, he definitely did not feel guilty— he was more amused.

“Let me take you home.” He said, casually. Like it was a normal occurrence for bosses and their assistants to drop them down at their apartments, maybe give them a kiss goodnight if the mood was right. He walked away again, but looked back, urging you to follow his direction. And you did, with hesitation that also dripped in nervousness. As you come into eye contact with his Harley Davidson.

You thought about it. There was no uber accepting your ride— it was a death sentence to hail a cab at this hour, and your eyes were far too tired to even walk now. Your only option was either crawl all the way home, or accept his offer.

Giving out a small sigh of defeat, you gave in.

“Just this once.” You let out a small gulp, hands consciously fixing the attire you wore again. Bucky smiled at you, in a rather boyish manner— you hadn’t seen it before, it was laidback and all the synonyms for cool. You wished he expressed that side more often, just out of working hours, you supposed.

Bucky was also tired, it was quite obvious. You noticed the way his vibranium arm dragged the way he walked and the small heaves of sigh he made. But something felt different about him, curiosity started to get the best of you. Despite the calm way of his hands patting where you’d sit on his black-on-black motorcycle, the coolness of his voice, his eyes looked like they were fighting with himself.

Like he was waiting for a trigger to break free from his spell, reliant on one single word that could make him think or take an action freely. You bit your lip unknowingly, affected by the sight of him.

“Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Bucky looked at you, eyes blinking in confusion when he realized you were dazed out when he had asked which street you live in— all he knew was that you were from around here.

“Yeah, you scared me. I thought you were a serial killer.” You scoffed at his remark, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

You immediately realized what you had just said, covering your mouth quickly. Bucky only raised his eyebrow at you, as his vibranium arm rested on the motorcycle seat, the other flesh on his waist. His eyes had a glint of mischief around them, looking you up and down as he gave out a dry chuckle.

Your cheeks immediately heated up in embarrassment. “I mean, I thought I was alone. Thinking that nobody could—“

“Hear you scream?” He tilted his head sideways, giving you a teasing grin. You nodded in return, somehow, you didn’t know what to say next. Besides the growing tension between you and Bucky as your legs tightened on instinct when he grew closer.

He stopped just when your bodies are only centimeters from touching, one small move and you’d immediately feel his chest.

“Wanna test it?” He added, in a voice lower than it usually was, drawing out every word for you to thoroughly comprehend. Your mouth opened slightly, you couldn’t tell whether a moan or a reply wanted to come out. But you were left speechless, the familiar sensation between your legs tingling once more.

“What— What do you mean?” Those were the only coherent words that managed to come out of your mouth.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky replied, almost immediately.

Bucky was playing a dangerous game, and you were scared to even gamble. You couldn’t risk losing your job— or him being heavily criticized by the public for being with his assistant. Too many factors that were all needed to be considered, but your self-control was running low, tempted by his offer.

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Barnes.” You whispered, voice even shaking in nervousness. You clutched your bag hard, knuckles almost turning white.

“There ‘ya go again, with that unprofessional shit.” He gave you a response filled with sarcasm, you would think it’s venomous.

“Like I don’t smell your arousal every single time we’re in that office together.” Your eyes widened once more at his sudden confession, you were embarrassed to the brim. He could smell that? His jaw was tightened, like it was back at his office when you were fixing your blouse haphazardly.

The tables were turned as the attention of the night was now on Bucky Barnes’ admission. He immediately sighed, like he did not mean to let the words slip from his tongue. But he had grown increasingly tired of his pretty little assistant being a tease every single day, even if you meant to be one or not. It affected him far worse than the way it took a toll on you— he was just more skilled at hiding it.

But today was his last straw, Bucky’s last defense of self-control was immediately shattered when you walked in the office in the morning. Opening the door with such confidence, immediately handing out to him his planned schedule for the day like you always did, in a methodical manner. He liked that about you, precision and keen attention to detail.

Bucky let out a small groan when you leaned down to explain his itinerary, who he will be meeting, what he needed to say in front of the press, and always asking him which food he wants for lunch, so you could buy it. He usually says nothing— it was weird, having you buy lunch for him, how ungentlemanly if it was normal even.

Your perfume was the only thing that filled his sense of smell, eyes gazing at the delectable view in front of him— the off-white blouse that you wore revealed a little too much of your cleavage that when your hands were rested in his table, body just inches away from him at the seat. His eyes savored in the top of your breasts peeking out, and you were blissfully unaware of such things, still ranting on something he couldn’t even comprehend now.

He tried to think of anything else, he turned his gaze to your face— which only made things worse. Your eyes focused on the second event of the morning, the hearing of Valentina Allegra De Fontaine and her organization. But fuck her and fuck everyone but you, he couldn’t care about anything right now. Your eyes were slightly furrowed in a manner that made you adorably tempting, and lips painted with a tinge of redness and shine from lip gloss.

All Bucky could think about was standing up, putting his hands against both sides of your waist, and removing the black pants you adorned. He thought about making the table shake violently that all his paperwork would be on the floor. Hips thrusting against your ass while balls deep inside your pretty pussy.

In the shitty dimmed light of the basement floor, a thick air of silence filled the space between the two of you. Your head was starting to get dizzy due to nervousness, you wanted to fight back. God knows how much you’ve spent the nights imagining him working you up like what he’s doing right now— but now that it was actually happening? You were scared. Terrified of the consequences that might happen after this.

“Sir Barnes—“

“Don’t call me that.” He cut you off quickly.

“I apologize for letting my feelings get in the way.” You muttered a shaky apology under your breath, looking down on the ground in shame and embarrassment when you realized you were not being sleek with your infatuation— Bucky had known along. And you should have known as well, he wasn’t exactly just a congressman, hundreds of notable things he had done were under his belt. Of course, he would’ve sensed your ogling from a mile away.

“Sweetheart, I get hard every time you call me Mr. fucking Barnes. The last thing you need to do is apologize.” He chuckled sarcastically, putting his vibranium arm against your waist. “I’ll stop if you say so— but don’t pretend like you’re not wanting this.” He added, putting his fleshed index finger to your chin, and pulled you closer to his body.

That action rendered you speechless— but you couldn’t even really think of anything to begin with, just him, his hair, his hands, everything that he ever was. His hands swayed dangerously lower, moving to your back and right above your tailbone, like he had to stop himself from grabbing your ass.

If the nonexistent space between the two of you wasn’t enough, Bucky persisted and pushed your hips to make you feel the clothed hardness that had formed in his pants. Your breath hitched, trying your best to stifle the moan that was threatening to roll out of your tongue when he grinded just enough for your clit to feel, despite the layers of fabric against it.

“This is dangerous, sir.” You managed to garner a reply. “You could lose your job— or mine, even both if this ends up in the headlines.” Your hands creeped up his chest, a last offer of defense, that’s what you convinced yourself.

“I’ll make sure nothing comes out.” He gave you a look of reassurance, and you swooned right into it. You knew you were in capable hands, a highly capable man that is as intelligent as he is hot. Bucky kept promises, never letting a word fall under his grasp. He could be trusted with it, and it was not making your case any easier.

“But you’ll have to fire me, this is against the code of conduct.”

“Keep being this uptight, baby. You’re gonna make me cum in seconds.” He let out an almost pained groan in response, hands still not leaving your hips as the other went their way from your chin to caress your cheeks. Fingers just softly rubbing against, as if he was scared to break you.

Bucky looked at you fervently, his eyes were desperate to meet yours, eyebrows slightly furrowing in anticipation of your words. He would’ve been fine with anything, you could say no— he would gladly pretend to forget that any of this has ever happened, even give you a raise for the inconvenience.

Or you could bite back, just give in. One nod, a hushed word of approval, any form of recognition that you wanted this too, and he’ll be the one to take care of the rest. Nevermind the bigger problem he had in between his legs, he was a gentleman— but only the heavens knew how much he had been controlling himself for the past eight hours or so. He couldn’t care to count the minutes anymore.

One word, just one.

He had been through hell and back his whole life, for a whole century even. He had repented his actions— mistakes and failures that he did not even do, but he still made up for it, for everything. But all Bucky had ever wanted right now, what he pleaded to the gods, was to be given a chance to savor a taste of your lips.

“You’re making this harder for me.” You gave out a small chuckle, the bag on your shoulder was suddenly a lot heavier than it was. You couldn’t pinpoint if it was excitement or nervousness in your veins, maybe both— you couldn’t think ahead anymore.

So fuck it, right?

You let out an inhale of courage in the form of air as your lips went straight crashing with his— in an impatient manner that even made Bucky’s knees slightly weak at the collision. He let out a whine of satisfaction when you pressed in deeper to the kiss, mouth slightly opening more when his tongue licked your lips— a beg to let him do more.

Now both of Bucky’s hands were on your waist when he gripped it harder, and pulled your back against the motorcycle, slightly wincing at the contact of cold metal. Your left arm rested on the cushion of the seat as your right fingers dangled in the strands of his hair, never once did you let the kiss separate. Not even for a brief moment, even if you needed to gasp for air.

Because you weren’t going to deny this moment when Bucky’s tongue was working wonders to explore every inch of your mouth, fingers that were once on your waist were now working their way up to your stomach, mere inches away from your breasts. He separated from your lips and locked eyes with you once more.

“Can I?” He asked for permission. “Please, baby.” Bucky added, and you weren’t sure to which part of your body he was pleading to, but you nodded hazily— you couldn’t wait any more longer. But you quickly realized what he meant to do when he started to remove the bag that was decorated on your arm and safely hung it on the windshield of his bike, you wondered if its strength could hold on the files that were in your bag.

The lust-ridden congressman then slowly took off the blazers that you perfectly wore, his hands worked their way on your shoulders. His eyes were shifting from your orbs to your chest— you gave him a small smile of amusement.

“You gonna wait ‘til sunrise just to get me off of my shirt, sir?” Your eyes crinkled playfully. On the other hand, your boss was not amused. He wanted— no, needed to ravish you already. He couldn’t wait as well.

So, in the poor ventilation of the basement, only the echoes of your moans were heard, and its light reflected the absolute want in your face, to which Bucky only had the privilege to drink in the view. You were a goddess to his eyes, and he was nothing but a measly worshipper.

“Great idea. Let’s fuck here until sunset.”

He gave you a coy smile, before his lips met contact with your neck, prompting little pecks of kisses as he went lower while simultaneously undoing the buttons of the blouse that had made his already struggling morning even worse. He looked up, lips still adorned to your collarbone with furrowed eyebrows, hair slightly covering the sides of his face, and the look of utter desperation.

You shuddered, what a sight to behold. You tried to etch this memory onto your mind before you could even forget the next second.

The soldier only finished half of the buttons before spreading apart the blouse to reveal the lace bra you wore underneath.

“Just for me?” He gave you a boyish smirk, fingers rubbing your nipples against the cloth as you let out a breath of his name like an earnest prayer. In return, your hands rested on his shoulders for support, left leg slightly hiking up to grind against his. You were desperate for friction, to the point of being pathetic, but you did not care.

“Maybe.”

“I’m gonna need a better answer than that, sweetheart.”

In a dazed manner, you recaptured Bucky’s lips, a little too rough and impatient, even for your own liking. You felt his touch caress the skin of your back, and in a smooth manner, he unclasped your bra easily. A shot of jealousy went down your throat, wondering how many bras he had removed just for him to undo yours with utmost ease. But they weren’t the one in your position right now, at least not anymore.

Your boss did not even bother to fully remove the articles of clothing, he just pulled the blouse down at your waist, and put your upper undergarment to hang beside your bag, careful not to let it fall down the ground. His darkened eyes reveled in the sight your bare chest, mouth agape, and you could feel the way his cock twitched between your legs.

“Fuck, you’re divine.” He let out a breathless moan, immediately cupping your left boob with his vibranium laced fingers, index fingers rubbing your nipples when his tongue lapped on the other, making sure it wasn’t left out. “God, you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this.” He muttered in between breaths.

“Bucky,” You gave out a whine, knees slightly trembling and nails gripping for support in the sturdy bike pressed against your back as he lazily gave a long lick on your right nipple before rubbing it once more. The long nights if fantasizing about fucking your boss were now starting to become reality when his hands snaked their way to caress your thigh that was wrapped against his hips.

“More, I want more.” You confessed, in a soft whisper, afraid that everything would end in a second should your voice be higher than a decibel.

You gazed upon his face, wrecked with nothing but the need to be further, to know your skin more— to unravel your body completely. Bucky quickly obliged, like the good man he was, he couldn’t restrict you from your needs when he was also under the same predicament of losing control.

He only gave you a smirk, before dropping dead to his knees in the cemented and uneven floor of the basement, with white marking lines decorating where he knelt. His black pants were starting to look the color of ash, but he did not seem to mind, not at all. How could he? You were the only thing to ever cross his mind at this very moment. His eyes dead set on yours, still with the same lust adorned dust hovering, but with intensity a depth lower.

Your heart skipped two or three beats in recognition.

“My pretty assistant wants more?” Bucky’s fingers were on a mission, he did not waste time to remove the button in your pants, revealing a matching set of underwear as your bra. You couldn’t quite figure out if this was your lucky day or his, either way, you thanked the laundry gods that your clothes managed to dry on time.

“I’ll give you more.” He added, voice deeper than it usually was. He started to unravel what was beneath the last piece of clothing you had, and the black trousers you once wore were pooled down your feet, to where he was— in full devotion and worship.

“Oh, matching sets. Did you plan all these, baby? Get me to lose control so I can fuck you on my motorcycle?” He taunted, snapping the waistband of your panties.

“Coincidence.” You feigned innocence, terribly. Like Bucky wasn’t smirking in front of your clothed, sopping cunt. He was caressing your thighs, dangerously going higher, as if to test you. “But if you like it that much, I’ll let you live on your little fantasy.”

“Coincidence, huh?” He tilted his head, eyebrows slightly raised at your sarcastic comment. Bucky slightly spread your legs apart, hiking up your left thigh to his shoulders, to which you immediately shuddered in excitement when he brushed against your clit. The counter of your black heels drilled against his back, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re soaking for me, sweetheart. Is that a coincidence too?” The congressman did not even give you time to reply nor react when he strided a long, slow lick to your pussy, never breaking eye contact with you. He sure did love to stare— a little too much sometimes. But you were unphased, turned on was more of an accurate term. You moaned, embarrassingly loud for it to echo the white walls of the basement.

“Fuck,” You exclaimed, lost in the pleasure when he rubbed your clit with his cold fingers. The warm ones were pushing aside your panties like it had a personal vendetta against him, not even bothering to remove them as he stuffed your entrance with his long and thick digits.

“I’m getting there.” He sarcastically responded, growing closer between your legs because his fingers weren’t enough, he needed to taste you as well. Starved was an understatement— how could he have gone on decades of famine and not having the luxury of eating you out? He sucked hard, tongue memorizing the feast bestowed upon him, lapping on your wetness with an unquenchable thirst.

In response, you let out a dragged and broken moan. “Bucky,” You muttered his name like a perfectly tuned melody, he grunted in response.

Congressman James Bucky Barnes on his knees, eating out his young assistant in the parking lot of the House of Representatives. It would be an eye-catching headline to see on the news articles, TikTok for you pages, and newspaper stands.

Your boss added one more finger, and quickened the pace— the rubbing of your clit, fingers in and out, and his fucking skilled tongue circling around it all.

If you weren’t too deep in pleasure, lost in ecstasy you were sure no drug was going to compare to the feeling of high. Then, you would have noticed him spelling his own name with it— like a cast of spell to guard what was his.

You were done for, and you did not even mind.

“So fucking sweet. I—I need you so bad, shiiit.”

You were also certain that Bucky was done for, he groaned when your legs started to shake lightly, pre-cum decorated his tip that leaked from his pants as the consequence of punishing himself by not stuffing you full of his dick earlier.

“I’m gonna…” With eyes closed and lower lip bitten, you couldn’t even finish your words without making lewd noises of satisfaction because of the soldier’s relentless pace.

You felt like exploding, in the best way possible. Just a tinge closer to coming undone, you were already in the route going there.

“That’s right.” His mouth was agape when he looked up, seeing you in the same level of need that he was in. “Be a good girl and come on my tongue, baby.”

That’s all it took for you to release on his fingers, tongue, and everywhere that he was— even spilling enough that it coated his salt and pepper stubble. His lips were glossed all over with your liquids. You looked away in embarrassment. But he looked like it was the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten in a hundred years. He slowly removed his digits that were once inside you. Agonizingly slow.

Blue eyes blown away and the sides of his mouth twitched to what seemed like a smile— or just a smirk. You thought it was done, that it’s goodbye now. And he’d be dropping you off your apartment for real this time.

In a rush, you pulled the blouse that was scrunched on your waist to wear it properly again trying to button up what you could button in this drunken state of mind, even forgetting about the bra that hung in front of Bucky’s bike.

But he did not budge there, just watched you with keen eyes as his grip firm on the side of your hiked up thigh, liking the way your heels felt against his back. He was full on smirking, amused by your actions— his flustered assistant that was once calling out his name in the dirtiest way possible. You tried to lean down to take your pair of pants when Bucky stopped your arms.

He wasn’t just going to let you go that easily.

“Nah, we ain’t fucking done, sweetheart.”

Your eyes unknowingly went down to the bulging view in his pants, his cock was rock hard— no amount of jerking off to interactions with you could suffice it, not when he already had the taste of it. Bucky stood up and faced you, eyes pleased at the sight of you in nothing but your off-white blouse and black heels.

He did not even care what time it was right now, how many hours left before a day filled with endless— pointless meetings will start. He needed to be balls deep inside of you.

“Sit in front.”

He gestured to the seat of his big, black bike, where you were leaning against, in the receiving end of his lust. You looked at him, confusion brimming your face to its highest setting. You weren’t even wearing any pants yet, and now he wants to leave? After he gave you quite possibly the best orgasm you ever had in your entire life.

“What?”

You looked at him like he was a madman. He probably was, you thought that you were too. Was this just the dizziness that stemmed from fatigue because you needed sleep, or was he actually commanding you to sit in the front seat of his motorcycle? He grew closer, you thought it was even impossible for him to be, both of his thumbs ran circles on the sides of your waist.

He squinted and tilted his head playfully— seductively, even.

“Thought you needed a ride?”

Oh.

And fuck, that got you worked up all over again.

You wasted no time, turned to the side and carefully went up his motorcycle as the congressman’s hands were on your back for support— albeit lower than it should have been. Your heels trembled to climb in the foot rest as your right leg separated to get on the other side, you quickly held onto the throttle for a sense of stability.

You could feel your wetness stain against the leather of the seat, in a desperate effort to feel his warmth again, you grinded slowly, mouth opening up to release a soft noise.

“Couldn’t wait for my cock, baby?” He gave a low chuckle, the one that vibrated off his chest in amusement. He followed, and in a swift motion, he hopped to sit close behind you, close enough to feel him practically radiating your back.

“Need you so bad, Bucky.” You turned your head back to him, where he was fumbling to take his dick out of the confinement of his pants. He frantically pulled down the zipper, and slightly pushed down the clothing to reveal the v-line of his lower abdomen, and slowly took out the tip just for you to see how red and hard it had been from eating you out.

“I need you just as bad, sweetheart.” He let out a small groan, pulling it out altogether, pumping up and down using his vibranium digits to relieve the pain he accumulated from months of holding back, pre-cum leaking as he swirled it all around the tip. The other arm was on the very end of the motorcycle seat, so he could have support. Bucky’s eyes were half-lidded, face contorted in pleasure.

You swore you moaned at the sight.

“Are you gonna help me out?” He had a smug grin on his face when he finally opened his eyes fully to see you watching the scene unfold.

“God, yes.”

Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled your hips closer to his, you could feel his length twitch against your back as he carefully pushed your stomach down lower, urging you to keep your hands on the throttle as he arched your back in the seat. His hands were on your ass now, drawing near to your glistening cunt.

“You want me this much, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up?” He muttered, breathing near your ear as you can only let out a weak whine in response, softly nodding. From the position alone, you were sure you could cum by then. Not only did you get the chance to be railed by the hottest member of the representative, he was going to rail you completely on his motorcycle. Like it was straight out of a porno, you never realized he had this kink— and you were starting to think that you had it too.

He teased the tip of his aching cock to your wet folds, he didn’t do anything yet, just rubbing it in between, using your wetness as a form of lube— you reckoned it was enough for him to easily push it in, but he wasn’t going to do that just yet. He wanted to savor the moment. You in front of his bike, ass hiked up and pussy just devastatingly ready to swallow him whole.

“Fuck.” He let out a sigh, tucking his strands back that stuck to his forehead from the sweat— because the parking lot had shitty ventilation, like all of them do. “I was so fucking close to bending you over my desk. But this— this is so much better.” He winked at you through the side-view mirror.

“Oh my god, Barnes. Just put it in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He drew a low chuckle.

Like you had been waiting for an eternity for this to happen— your grandeur visions of delusion finally crawling out from the grave and coming to life to give you a kiss on the cheek and say that it wasn’t actually just your imagination— that Bucky felt the same way as you did about him.

You slightly raised your hips to take him in, wetness dripped down from the seat as he slowly pushed his cock inside. It was hurting— he was too big, too thick, but you took pleasure from the pain. Too eager to take him in, to be deep inside you. Reaching places where your fingers could not comprehend to even go. Meanwhile, the congressman’s eyes were focused on you from the mirror, groaning at how easy he slipped in, and how perfectly his cock fit— like a glove.

“So fucking— tight for me.” Bucky caressed your back, he noticed you struggled from the pain evident in your face as he paused for a brief moment. Waiting for your signal to move. “You’re taking me in so well. So good.”

“Bucky,” You breathed out his name like it was the only word you ever knew. Glancing at him as you slowly grind your hips in a circular motion to test it out. Testing out the ride that you needed to go home. And there, you started to bounce like your life depended on it, taking him in— inch by fucking inch.

You were riding Bucky’s dick on his motorcycle, a line straight out of the fantasies you once touched yourself to.

The sergeant— who was too preoccupied at watching you grind up and down, mouth agape at how his cock glistened by your wetness,

disappearing completely when you went down. His hands travelled to your stomach as he pushed your back against his chest, ripping off the buttons of your blouse to cup your breasts— caressing your nipples along the way.

“Look at you, like a fucking slut on my dick.” Just when you thought it could not get more pleasurable, his digits went to rub your clit in a fast-paced manner, your legs trembling in absolute pleasure.

“Fuck, oh.” You were too lost, drowning in the feel of Bucky’s length as he thrusted upward when you pushed down— the action hitting your g-spot, straight to the core, you swore you felt him through your stomach. “Bucky, oh my god.”

Bucky was close to cumming— embarrassingly close. But you were too good, too sweet for him, and pussy taking him in so well he was sure that it was made for him, just him. He gave out a guttural groan, squeezing your breast as he thrusted even faster, matching the timing of your hips. The motorcycle shaked, struggling to keep up with the momentum.

He did not care anymore whether or not this violates whatever rules there was— the code of conduct. All he needed right now was your pussy.

“B—Bucky, please come inside me.”

Who was he to deny your request?

“Shit.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. He quickened his pace, arched your back once more so Bucky could see how it’ll look like to shoot his load inside yours, how his cum will drip down your pussy. You grew conscious of his view and he was smart enough to realize.

“Yeah, baby. I’m gonna cum inside your pretty pussy.” He licked his lips, nearing his release. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.” For a man whose age is a hundred-something, he sure did love to get down and talk filth. Not that you minded, it was hot— he was hot all over.

You were the first to come, thighs shaking and slowing down your motion at the release as it pooled down the ruined motorcycle seat and made a mess on Bucky’s dick. You saw the stars when you rolled your eyes back— hard enough to even see the sunrise preparing to get up a few hours later.

He groaned, shortly following after, thrusting even deeper inside of you, filling your cunt to the brim as he ejaculated. The spurts of cum dripped down the side when he separated from you, fingers entering your folds to put it back in. You hummed in response, body too weak to move. Bucky was pleased, and wasted no time to pick up the pants you left on the floor.

He dressed you up, quite gently, as opposed to railing you hard just a few minutes before. You loved the contrast, but he was— and always had been a gentleman. You stood up to switch places with him, you were getting your real ride home. Covering your blouse, which was missing a few buttons with your blazer.

You gave him a small smirk.

“So, does this mean I’m fired?” You chuckled.

Well, you definitely needed to call in sick for today, not because you were battling a life threatening fever. Calling in sick because your legs were wobbly and cunt fucked to the brim by your boss, who looked at you like you were the only precious thing in the world. It wasn’t fair that your chest tightened immediately.

Bucky gave a hearty laughter— one that was rare to see from him. You must have saved an entire village, or you could’ve been an avenger in your different life to witness it.

“Nah, baby. You’re getting a raise.”

© barnesandashes, 2025.

[willowtab]

katniss : “haymitch hates me so much! he despises me and everything about me!”

peeta : “that’s true. only i think he hates me even more…”

haymitch in actual canon : “those two are my only reasons for living and the only people left on this earth I love.”

[willowtab]

The Education Of James Buchanan Barnes Masterlist

pairing | post!tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

summary | when dating apps fail him and thirst traps become his downfall, bucky barnes finds himself spiraling down the internet’s most unholy rabbit hole—pornhub.

what starts as horrified research turns into full-blown obsession... especially when you, his sharp-tongued best friend, catch him red-handed and make very sure he lives out every filthy fantasy he’s been hiding.

tags | (18+) MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, face sitting, breeding kink dirty talk, overstimulation, sexual humor, friends to very horny lovers, reader is a menace, teasing, flustered bucky, dom!bucky, sub!bucky, oral sex (f&m!recieving)

a/n | we all freaky in this house

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ���✨

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

divider by @cafekitsune

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

when dating apps fail him and thirst traps become his downfall, bucky barnes finds himself spiraling down the internet’s most unholy rabbit hole—pornhub.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

bucky asked to learn about edging—he just didn’t expect to be blindfolded, tied to a bed, and brought to the brink twice before even getting inside you.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3

after a hot date night, you decide it’s time to introduce bucky to the world of sex toys. but as he watches you come undone under a vibrator and dildo, curiosity quickly gives way to jealousy.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4

bucky’s really not the club type, but one night of teasing and grinding leads to him worshipping you in an alley and begging to fuck you full the second you’re home. you make him plead for it—hard—before finally letting your needy, subby sargeant get what he wants.

[willowtab]

serious question. do u think bucky prefers tits or ass 🎤🎤🎤‼️‼️‼️‼️

okay i know you guys saw how bucky looked at peggy in that red dress during ca:tfa. like that is an ass man through and through. this man goes feral for a pretty smile and curves for days <3

bucky’s always been a hands man. handy, if you will. and not in the “he can fix your faucet” way (though yeah, he can also absolutely do that). no, this is: hand on your waist when you walk into a room. hand on your lower back for absolutely no practical reason. hand resting on your thigh under the table like it belongs there (because to him, it does).

even back in the 40s, when decency laws were a thing and “showing ankle” was still considered mildly erotic in some circles, bucky was still finding ways to touch. slow dancing with his hand splayed too low on your back. helping you into a cab and letting his palm linger at your hip a little longer than polite. brushing fingers over the side of your coat with the kind of intention that would get a less charming man slapped.

he is not wrecked by nudity. no. nudity is fine. it’s direct. it has rules.

but the suggestion? the way a curve looks under something? the way your ass moves in leggings when you’re brushing your teeth?

the way your thigh presses into his when you’re curled up next to him in sleep shorts and an old band tee? the way your waist disappears into a dress like it’s playing hide and seek with his survival instincts?

yeah. no. he’s absolutely folding.

he walks into furniture because you’re wearing biker shorts. he burns toast because you leaned over the counter. he says “jesus christ” so many times in one day it starts to sound less like a prayer and more like a threat to himself.

at least once a week sam catches him staring into the void and asks what’s wrong and bucky just mutters, “nothing. just thinkin’ about the way they walk.”

“like… in general?”

“…yeah.”

he pretends he’s calm. you know. the arms crossed. leaning in the doorway. doing that jaw clench thing like he’s withholding secrets.

but really? he’s got a five-part plan in his head on how to keep you all to himself for the next 72 hours

he doesn’t just look. he fucking burns it into his memory. traces it with his hands like he’s sketching it in air. the shape of your hip under his palm. the way your back curves when you stretch. the way your ass fits perfectly in his lap when you sit there all smug, like you don’t know what it’s doing to him.

he doesn’t use crude words for it. he just says things that should be worse, because they’re true.

“you’re built like a fucking dream, sweetheart.”

“don’t walk away from me in that, unless you want me to follow you into traffic.”

“baby, you’re gonna make me bite something.”

post-fatws bucky is feral with restraint. like yes he’s in therapy. yes he’s healing. yes he’s sleeping better now. but he is also deeply down bad. he’s had decades of forced detachment and now he’s here, in your kitchen, watching you make pancakes in a ratty shirt and cotton underwear and he’s about to commit an act.

he’ll pace the room like it’s keeping him from committing war crimes.

he’ll grab your waist with both hands and just rest his head there, like your ass is his emotional support pillow.

he treats your body like a prayer. like something to be worshipped and learned and never taken for granted. he kisses your stretch marks. traces the curve of your belly with soft fingers like he’s spelling out something in a language only he knows.

when you make fun of yourself, he gets genuinely upset.

“don’t talk about my favorite thing like that,” he says, and he means it.

“your favorite thing is my ass?”

him, without blinking: “you think i’ve been holding onto reality for anything else?”

[willowtab]

when they serve bisexual realness

[willowtab]

when they serve bisexual realness

[willowtab]

“... I already talked to him and it went poorly.”

[willowtab]

Not Haymitch being the legal guardian of Katniss in Capitol and District 13.

In mockingjay,

Haymitch is annoyed about Katniss ripping off her earpiece, and he is showing her different PERMANENT earpiece option as a threat.

He specifically says, " I will AUTHORIZE them to surgically implant this transmitter into your ear".

Authorize, not ask them or tell them but AUTHORIZE.

That imples he has had to NOT authorize previous District 13 demands. Just like in the Capitol with breast enhancement surgery.

Few pages back, Asterid says how she didn't know Katniss was going to 8 till she was already gone. And Katniss goes, I'm sorry I'll ask them to clear everything with you.

And asterid replies, "Katniss no one clears anything from me".

Asterid is not Katniss' Legal Guardian anymore, Haymitch is. He has been running around for god knows how long keeping her safe and sane.

The I wonder is he the reason Katniss got discharged from the hospital while Finnick stays in a drug haze?

Is he the reason they leave her be when she doesn't follow schedule?

Is he the reason they let her hide in pipes and closets?

And I'm reminded of lil Haymitch taking care of even littler children during his games. Wondering why they all come to him. And he's fails to keep any one of them alive.

Except Katniss. That's a daughter thrusted to him. And he's trying so fucking hard to not let her die too.

I'm gonna go cry now

#why do all the little ones stick to me

[willowtab]

you see where i'm going with this

Criminal Minds | Season 1 Episode 02 | Compulsion

[willowtab]

what if my 13 reason why is the fact that even after being beaten up by cas, dean didn't push him away but instead clung on his coat hoping cas would stop and hear him

[willowtab]

[willowtab]

haymitch sending katniss the bread from 11 in the aftermath of rue’s death hits so much harder with the knowledge that mags sent him the coffee and strawberry ice cream after maysilee died

he was inviting her to cry to him the same way that mags had for him, the same way katniss does in mockingjay

he turned out to be so much more emotionally cognizant with katniss than we gave him credit for

[willowtab]

The doubling of tribute numbers. The miscarried Abernathy twins. The Donner sisters who Haymitch carries a fascination for as consequence. Louella being replaced by Lou Lou, a name that only mimics the first half of her name, and a girl who matches her in appearance only. The Appalachia legends of mimics. Tam Amber’s set of pins, one dropped down a well, the other discarded. The two versions of the games: the one that Haymitch remembers and the edited, falsified version of them without the real content. The two bags of gumdrops. The fraternal affection he feels for Louella and Lou Lou, the artificial twins, and Maysilee’s offer to be his sister—the second one she gives in the book. A bond with a real twin, both pairs healing the sisters he never did know. The split between what is natural and what is manufactured or forged, bonds that that grow on their own, or are forced into existance. And if the distinction makes any difference to the person it impacts.

[willowtab]

So we all know the 75th Quell wasn’t just for Katniss now, right??

It was - get rid of Finnick, people tell him too much and like him too much

It was - get rid of Mags (she’ll volunteer to save anyone), she’s always been too much of a rebel and cares more about the tributes than the games (i.e. hiding Finnick from cameras)

It was - get rid of Beetee, we’re finally done with him (I want to know why he’s suddenly disposable though). But let’s make it as awful as possible and remind him every day what his son was feeling in his own last days

It was - get rid of Wiress (and also show the world what she’s become) because she never should have won (and we’ll show people what happens when you think you’re smarter than the Capitol)

It was - get rid of Johanna Mason, we killed everyone she loved and it didn’t break her enough so now we can’t control her

And of course, it was - get rid of those rebels from 12

But it wasn’t just punishment for Katniss. She had no idea how influential and volatile of a group they were.

Honestly, I feel like the 3rd Quell might have actually worked if the Capitol hadn’t decided to just send all the most rebellious and threatening victors into them. You can’t put 10+ people who rebelled in their own games back into an arena (and this time they’re all together) and expect it to go well for you???

[willowtab]

The Fight

Spencer and Amelia get into a fight and work it out in the best way possible:)) Season 6(ish) Spencer

Trigger warnings: SMUT 18+, talk of unsub unaliving people, Spence gets pretty angry and MIGHT have put a hole in the wall, overprotective Spencer, unprotected penetration, adult t*ys, oral(f! and m! receiving) , slight *rg*sm denial and degradation/praise

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Amelia didn’t know how they had gotten this mad at each other, but she knew it was going to be much, much worse the second they got home and behind closed doors. It had been over a year since she’d been abducted, but Spencer had become protective-overprotective- over his wife and while she’d been out on the field since, the line had been drawn.

She had spent the past year at the gym with Morgan, bulking up and learning how to defend herself. Amelia was never going to be the same victim; if it happened again, and it had, she would be able to put up a better fight. Hotch, Rossi and Morgan had agreed with her idea, but she failed to tell him before he got back from the medical examiner’s office.

“He’s going after women that ask for help in any form, right?” Amelia studied the pictures on the bulletin board, before turning around and studying their faces. 

“Yes. He follows them to their car, whether it be he handed her something on the top shelf, a flat tire or even handing the target something they dropped.” Hotch narrowed his eyes at her and she bit her lip, glancing through the see-through windows of the conference room.

“We know he’s going to be hitting this area next to finish the triangle in this state, before he moves on to the next.” Amelia pointed at the red dot on the map. “But the issue is, most women are not going to be asking for help or even going out since we released the profile.”

“Right, which means he’ll probably escalate and hunt someone down.” Morgan raised an eyebrow at her.

“What if he doesn’t have to?We know what he looks like and I think we should send in undercover cops to patrol the area like we’ve planned, but I can approach him and suggest I have a lost pet. We can set a trap for him. I still have a flyer from when Archer got out as a pup.”  Amelia pulled the folded flyer from her purse and showed them.

“It’s not a bad idea and it keeps residents safe.” Rossi shrugged at Hotch.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. I know you’ve been in the field since your abduction, but we’re usually with you.” Hotch glanced up at the map, his brows furrowed.

“I’ve had more training and experience. Besides, we’ll have you guys and other undercover cops all over.” Amelia gave them a small smile, despite the change in her heart rate. “I’m still the loudest person in the BAU. My scream for help will be heard.”

“Okay. We roll out in five.” Hotch nodded, rushing from the room.

“Does Spencer know about your little idea?” Rossi questioned as they followed their leader.

“It doesn’t matter.”

It did, in fact, matter and the second Spencer heard the news, his mind sped back to the last time she hadn’t communicated. As fast as JJ could drive, Spencer didn’t arrive until everything had gone down and Amelia had a small cut on her forehead.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Spencer had snapped, ignoring the looks of the paramedics as they treated her. “You couldn’t at least wait to get my opinion on putting yourself out there?”

“We couldn’t wait, it was a last minute decision probably minutes before he did something worse.” Amelia flinched at the tone of his voice. “Besides, Hotch and Morgan were nearby if anything did happen.”

“You planned this.” He shook his head, his voice rising with emotion, “You suggested JJ and I go to the Medical Examiner’s office so I-”

“This is not the time nor the space for this, you two.” Hotch warned, shaking his head. “If you want to stay here with her, I suggest you find a way to calm yourself and be quiet.”

“Fine.” Spencer crossed his arms, but the fire in his eyes didn’t disappear.

He hadn’t spoken another word to her since and had sat as far away from her as possible on the plane, the train ride home was no different. Amelia’s heart thudded harder on the stairs leading to their apartment than it had dealing with the unsub and when the door closed behind them, she thought it would leap out of her chest.

“Do you understand that if something happened to you today, that I would have lost my goddamn mind?!” Spencer slammed his bag into the chair and bore his eyes into hers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was the best option in the moment.” Amelia’s feet remained glued to the ground, he had never yelled at her before and she was unsure how to feel, not when his body was inches from hers. 

“Did you purposefully plan for this ‘moment’ to happen while I was gone?” He raised his eyebrows, as if to dare her to lie.

“Were you gonna let me go if you’d been there?”

“Answer the question.” Spencer growled, inching closer until her back was against the wall.

“Not completely, but more than I’d care to admit.” Amelia felt her breathing quicken, but steeled herself against his glare. “You wouldn’t have let me do what needed to be done otherwise.”

“Goddammit, Amelia!” Spencer’s fist hit the wall behind her and instead of flinching, her gaze on his face became flushed. “You don’t know that!”

Amelia knew she should be angry at him for scolding her for the decisions she made with the team or that he just put a hole in the wall, but she was just… turned on. Spencer could see it too; she was biting her bottom lip, her chest was moving slowly and heavily, and her pupils were blown. He was only slightly surprised when the sight sent enough blood down to form a tent in his own pants.

Cursing, he buried his fingers in her long hair and kissed her roughly, his tongue demanding entrance. Amelia moaned softly, her scalp screaming at the sudden pain despite the fire it sent to her core, and reached to feel his growing erection as he pressed her further into the wall.

“I’m still very pissed at you, but if I don’t fuck you right now I might explode.” He growled, as he pulled away and his gaze penetrated her face. “Thankfully, you seem to be attracted to my rage and this might get through your stubborn attitude.”

“I-” 

Spencer threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the bedroom, tossing her onto the king sized bed. He ripped off his tie and threw it onto the head of the bed, then yanked the handcuffs and straps from under the bed frame. Her heart pounded as she watched him, head cocked in puzzlement. 

“Spence…”

“Unless you tell me to come to a complete stop, you know what to do.” Spencer shrugged, his tongue flicking across his lips and she could tell he was not to be pushed.

Amelia sighed, undressed, and readjusted herself on the bed, wrists and ankles locked in padded handcuffs. He stepped back, watching as she tested the slight motion she had and a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest.

“Maybe this way, we can find a solution to the issue.” Spencer’s fingers traced down her chest and slowly, briefly, brushed her core.

“W-What?” Amelia stammered, hips bucking at his touch.

“I don’t want to scream and yell, but I want to make sure you understand what I am saying.” His voice was dangerously soft, and it didn’t match the fire in his eyes.

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt, pants and boxers, tossing them into the laundry basket, and turned to see Amelia’s gaze on his erection. Her core was on fire; between the heat that had radiated between them and the soft, firm way he was speaking to her stoked the theoretical fire.

His erection brushed against her thigh as he hovered over Amelia’s body to entrap her lips in another kiss, before trailing down her neck. She moaned as his tongue left a trail down her chest, until his lips trapped her sensitive nipple and scraped his teeth lightly around it. He circled the bud with his tongue, before swapping to her other nipple and repeating the same tortuous action.

He had spent the past twelve years studying every sensitive spot on Amelia’s body, reminding her of this as his trail found the sensitive bundle of nerves and lightly brushed down with his tongue. Her hips bucked and she whimpered, pupils blown and her fingers in a fist as he studied her swollen clit.

“Please.” Amelia whispered, the heat was unbearable.

“Please?” His head cocked to the side as his fingers brushed her entrance, “You think you get to assume I wouldn’t have faith in your ability to take care of yourself in the field without consequences?”

“Spencer…” Amelia whined as she moved her hips, trying to find any sort of friction.

“I should have been there.” Spencer growled as he slowly pumped two, long fingers into her cunt, dragging low moans from her chest. “We don’t hide things from each other.”

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, brows furrowed as he kissed the sensitive part of her upper thigh and sucked the skin into his teeth.

“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow, hovering inches from her mound as his fingers continued their tantalizing ministrations. 

“Yes. I am.” Amelia moaned, arching her hips in time with his hand. “Please.”

Spencer hummed softly, before Amelia became blinded by ecstasy and she couldn’t stop the wild noises tearing from her throat. His mouth had her swollen, sensitive clit memorized, his tongue experimenting, and his eyes and ears listening to her responses. His fingers picked up speed as he found the spot high on her clit that would ensure a climax, and used his free hand to pin her waist to the bed.

“I’m-I’m so close.” Amelia moaned, her cunt tightening around his digits and frustration engulfing her as he pulled away seconds before she finished.

“You don’t get to finish just yet, little slut.” He smirked as he climbed off the bed, hand slowly stroking his member. 

“No, no, no, please!” Amelia shrieked, hips bucking at the painful, sudden end of her pleasure. 

“Open.” Spencer softly poked the tip of his erection on her lips, spreading the oozing precum as he waited. “Be a good girl, and I’ll let you cum.”

Amelia didn’t need to be told a second time, her mouth accepting as much of him as it could and she started working as well as she could with her hands unavailable. She had studied the length of his cock almost as much as he’d studied her, and she loved to swallow him just as much.

Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue swirling on his tip every few seconds. She tried to smile as his hips bucked and his head fell back with a groan, then gently scraped the shaft with her teeth. Spencer growled, tangling his fingers in her hair and reached into the drawer in his side table.

Amelia didn’t know what his plan was until the buzzing started and she squealed onto his cock as the wand touched down. Her fingers gripped the sheets as she felt her climax quickly approaching and her eyes widened as they met his, alerting him silently of its approach.

“Hold on. Wanna feel it.” Spencer spent his entire willpower to pull out of her warm mouth and returned his fingers to her cunt. “You’ve been such a good girl, baby.”

Amelia whimpered at his words, almost screaming as he curled his fingers upwards and hit her G-Spot with ease. Her breathing quickened and her legs twitched violently around Spencer, preparing for the dam to burst. His eyes burned into her face, etching another image of her in the gallery he kept just for her in his mind and added another finger.

“I-I-”

“You’re gonna cum?” He almost sang in a taunting, smug voice.

“Y-Yes!” Amelia twisted the sheets in her fingers, needing something, anything to grab onto.

“That’s my good, dirty girl.” He smirked as his words undid her; her eyes rolled back into her head and her chest arched into the air as the scream escaped her lips. “Yes, good girl.”

The orgasm left almost as soon as it came, leaving Amelia weak and trembling as Spencer slowly retracted his fingers and turned off the vibrator. He quickly undid the handcuffs on her wrists and ankles, pulling her into his chest as she gasped for air.

“Just breathe, my love. I got you.” He murmured, kissing her head gently.

“I’m okay.” Amelia’s hand held onto his forearm, his erection poking into her ass and his soft words bringing the fire back into her core. “I need you to make love to me now, Spence.”

He groaned softly, his lips twitching into a smile as he returned her to her back and positioned himself over her entrance. Amelia’s fingers entangled in his short curls and she tugged him back down to her lips, surprised to find him so tender and gentle. Slowly, Spencer pushed his hips forward and a low moan dragged from his lips as he buried himself inside of her, pausing to give her time to adjust and so he didn’t finish prematurely from how warm and tight she was.

“Fuck.” He moaned into her mouth as she wrapped her legs around him and their fingers intertwined..

“I know, baby.” Amelia murmured, her eyes penetrating his as her chest swelled with emotion. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He smiled slightly, slowly moving his hips and their soft moans were almost melodic.

It was almost torture how slow Spencer was moving, but he wanted the tension to build until he just couldn’t take it any longer. Amelia could tell by his moans and the hardening of his cock that he wasn’t going to withstand the slow penetration; their bodies fit together and complement each other perfectly.

The tip of his cock hit her G-Spot with every pump, and her fingers left his to tug at his curls, the pain always seeming to get him off. He groaned and pulled out, flipping her over before she could open her mouth to protest before slamming back into her. Amelia could swear she saw stars as her second climax approached, his movements deep and purposeful proving he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He moaned, lightly sucking the sensitive part of her neck. “I’m not going to last long.”

“I’m so close.” Amelia whimpered, raising her ass higher up into his.

“Go ahead, sweet girl, come all over my cock.” He whispered into her ear, before leaning down and sucking on her neck again, only this time to leave a mark.

Her second climax of the night crashed through her and she screamed into the pillows and dug her nails into his forearms. The sight of her undoing and the way her cunt tightening around his cock sent him over the edge and he buried his face in her neck as he came, resting for only a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” Spencer murmured, studying her face as well as he could in that position. 

“Better ‘n okay.” Amelia giggled, her eyelids droopy.

“Don’t sleep yet. I need to pull out and get you to the toilet.” He warned, before slowly pulling out with a groan and lifted her up, bridal style. “You pee, I’m going to get us water.”

“Mmkay.” Amelia nodded tiredly, smiling when he kissed the top of her head.

She quickly emptied her bladder and washed her hands before brushing her teeth quickly. Between her two orgasms and the stress the case had brought, she was ready to collapse in bed. Spencer returned to the bedroom with two glasses of water and crawled into bed, watching her as she gulped down half the glass of water.

“I’m going to sleep for like a week.” Amelia half-joked as she crawled into bed beside him and laid her head on his chest.

“Mm. I highly doubt that.” He chuckled, kissing her head again. “I’m sorry I got so mad. I was just worried about you and I know I have gotten pretty overprotective. I just can’t lose you.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. Next time, I swear I’ll make sure you’re in the loop. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I love you. More than anything.” “I love you, too, Spence. To the stars and back.”

[willowtab]

The Abduction

Hi there! Decided to try my hand at releasing some of my fanfictions.

This is a portion of my DR, S5 Spencer, (there will be more if this gets any attention, I just want to share this joy with someone). I'm not going to lie, this is based on a specific part of this song:

18+

Trigger Warnings; mention of r*pe, t*rt*re, pregnancy loss, and some s*icid*l inclinations, mentions of dr*g *se and mention of s*x

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Amelia laid on the ground, curled up in a ball and prayed silently for the fifth time that afternoon that he was done with her for the day. Her wrists had been rubbed raw from the fraction, he never got to take her without hearing and feeling her rage and fear, and her stomach was pained with hunger. 

It had been almost two days since she had been kidnapped by the BAU’s latest unsub, and though he had been attentive to his own needs, he’d seemed to forgotten that food was necessary for her survival. The same way he had forgotten for the girls before him-according to the coroner.

She should have known the others had been right about the unsub and that she was his type. In fact, as she found out after her abduction, Amelia had been the end goal. An FBI agent that matched the other Native American girls; long, blue/black hair and deep brown eyes. 

Amelia didn’t know how she’d ended up on the mission in the first place; even with her medical aid and tracking dog at her side. Emily had been there too, but Amelia followed her dog into a backyard and it was over. She could hear them calling her name, and her captor had made her watch her husband’s plea for her return on the television. What she would give for just five minutes with her favorite genius.

Listening to her coworker’s advice, which had once been hypothetical, she closed her eyes and escaped to her memories.

         Amelia’s fingers tapped the hard wood of the conference table, eyes glued to a deep scratch on the table and her leg was bouncing on its own in a quick rhythm. They had just gotten back from LA, and on the way out, Garcia reminded the team it was their monthly dinner night. So, instead of going home and being able to work on regulating her growing hurt, she had to sit next to him.

“Your turn, Amelia.” Spencer grinned, nudging her with his knee.

“Why are we talking about crushes?” Amelia sighed, glancing up at Gideon and Hotch, who had both opted out of the game.

She was already having the worst week, having watched him get all cozy with Lila, and now he wanted her to divulge her biggest and only secret? Given that it was only a secret from him, all the others had caught on in the beginning. How could we have grown up together, be able to have silent conversations, and him have an IQ of 187, all for him to be the dumbest man alive? Or does he know, and he just wants to throw more hurt into my face?

“The only reason you would protest playing a game like this would be if it was somebody on the team.” His eyes widened with excitement; she could see his brain working on calculations from here and knew it was about to be over. “It is someone on the team, but who?”

“Spencer…” Morgan shook his head in warning, Gideon’s eyes met Amelia’s in silent sympathy.

“No, it’s not Morgan. It’s someone you’re close to… you’ve been upset with them recently and can’t avoid them, so it’s someone you work with.” He tapped his lips thoughtfully, his eyes searching hers.

“Can we just drop it?” Amelia’s eyes dropped back down to the table. “I’m opting out, just like Hotch and Gideon.”

“Why? I’ll know who it is anyway here in a sec… Hotch and Gideon are the only ones you spend a lot of time with outside of me and potentially Morgan.” He scratched his chin and they locked eyes one last time.

“Spence, please.”

“It would logically have to be…” Spencer trailed off and his face scrunched in confusion, “Me.”

“Dammit, Spencer.” Morgan threw his hands up as Amelia’s face turned bright red, despite it only being news to Spencer; everyone on the team had known for years.

“I need to go.” Amelia lied, yanking her bag from the floor and quickly fleeing the room, ignoring whoever was calling her name.

Amelia knew she had led herself on; between sharing a home with him and often a bed when they needed release. Their ‘benefits’ had started when they were teenagers, only under the facade that neither had any romantic feelings for each other and it wasn’t true, not for her. She loved him more than words could describe and even if he didn’t reciprocate… 

As for Spencer, he hadn’t dreamed in a million years that Amelia would ever feel anything for him; she refused to kiss him and had made it a dealbreaker.  He’d known since the day he met her that she was the one, but she’d seemed so… detached? Maybe it was because they’d spent almost every day together since they met and trusted each other above anything; but in that moment his mind was swimming.

“You’ve got to be the blindest genius I’ve ever met, pretty boy.” Morgan shook his head, distaste filling his tone.

“She… I didn’t…” Spencer swallowed, praying she would return to the room so he could go on his knees and beg her for a chance. “She’s too good for me. Especially if I can’t see.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, sugar.” Penelope tapped his shoulder as she left the room. “She was blind to you as well.”

“What?”

“We all knew. The two of you follow each other around like little puppy dogs.” Elle laughed, “It’s adorable, but if you’re not gonna go after her…”

Spencer hadn’t hesitated to escape the room with the scrutinizing eyes, especially her father’s, and found her under a tree, ducking from the pouring rain. He knew then, as he’d seen in so many of the Romance movies Amelia had made him watch after losing chess to her, that this was his best chance and everything he knew she silently wished for. He just hadn’t thought it would be him going through with it.

“Amelia!” Spencer had shouted over the rain as he ran towards her.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Spencer.” Amelia’s chest ached as she watched, curls dripping with rain and his clothes were as soaked as hers. “It’s not a big deal-”

“I’m in love with you, Lia.” He grabbed her face, leaning over so his eyes could lock on hers.

“I…” Amelia’s voice got stuck in her throat and she wrapped her fingers around his wrists, not wanting him to let go.

“I love you, Amelia. I’ll only ever love you.” He laughed, shaking his head. “And that’s not even statistically possible and yet, I know it’s the most factual thing I will ever say.”

“I love you too, Spence.” 

Spencer ignored the tears streaming down their faces and the eyes he knew were watching from the windows, and his lips met hers. Amelia’s breath escaped her lungs with a ‘whoosh’ and she never wanted to stop kissing him; it was why she’d refused any time before. His lips were gentle, but firm on hers and she melted into him like butter, they fit together like puzzle pieces.

“They know who I am now.” The unsub kicked the chains around Amelia’s ankles and she scowled at him, pulling her ankles into her chest. “Your genius husband figured it out when he found your dog. Somethin’ to do with my DNA.”

“Please, I need something to eat and insulin. That’s why I had him with me, he would alert me when I’m low and I’m….” Amelia pleaded, though her voice was raspy and weak as her eyes found Spencer’s face on the screen. ‘I need my husband.’

“Then you should hope they find you soon, though they don’t know I use my friend’s warehouse. They don’t even have an address of mine.” He chuckled, but left the television on as he left her.

*****

Spencer paced the small space of the van Hotch had banished him to, since he refused to wait at home and let the EMT’s take care of her. He didn’t remember ever feeling so hopeless; not when he was kidnapped and formed a Dilaudid addiction, he had her to help and guide him through it, not when Gideon left, he was her father too and they mourned the loss of him on their team for months.

The rest of the team had rushed to their location the second Emily had called Morgan and told them she was gone, unable to erase the memory from replaying.

“Where is she?!” Spencer had yelled, his brain and heart seeming to malfunction as he prayed she would just appear.

“I don’t know, Spencer. I’m sorry, we got split up, Arnie ran after something and I didn’t see where she was going. She just disappeared.” Emily stared at him, unable to voice how helpless she felt.

“I need to find her. You know what he does to those girls.” His hands flew up and tangled in his hair, his eyes wide as he glanced around wildly for her.

“Spencer. I need you to walk away and find your cool. We are not ever going to find her if we lose control.” Hotch spoke quietly, but his eyes revealed the same worry; she hadn’t gone through near as much training or experience in kidnapping.

She was the therapist and medic for the team and the victims and the dog trainer for the K-9 unit, often bringing one or two of her dogs on their missions. Amelia was not allowed on scene aside from victim recovery and didn’t carry a gun or go unaccompanied.

“Okay, then we have to find her soon. We know he starves his victims and she’s a type one diabetic, but also forgetful so I have them in my bag.” Spencer’s legs felt weak and he urged his breakfast not to reappear.

“I think I know how we’re going to find her.” Morgan’s face had paled as he returned with Rossi.

“We found Archer. Looks like he did what he could to stop the unsub.” David lifted the garbage bag in his arms and Spencer’s urging failed as his stomach emptied itself.

Spencer knew the second his name was shouted from outside the van, he was right in insisting he came and stayed in the van in case. The van door opened and Morgan burst in, his eyes wide and blood on his hands.

“She won’t let us touch her. She needs help.” Morgan ducked back out, Spencer on his heels.

Spencer heard the screams before he saw her and while it wrecked his heart, his soul swelled with pride at the fight still in her voice. Amelia had chains still on her wrists, a medium wound in her stomach and blood on her hands as she seemed to snarl at even Hotch and Rossi trying to comfort her.

“‘Lia. I’m here. We have to get you some help. Stop fighting.” He knelt beside her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, tears streaming down her face and onto his vest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Spencer moved out of the medic’s way, keeping her hand in his even as they cut the chains and revealed bloody, damaged skin.

“I was…” She flinched at the pinch of a needle in her arm, her eyes suddenly droopy. “I was…”

“Shh, honey. Rest now. You’re safe.” Spencer kissed her forehead, ignoring his own tears as she gave in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you I ordered a sedative.” Hotch murmured, a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “They thought it best for her own safety. Ride with her, we’ll be right behind you.

*****

The sounds of beeping and low voices woke Amelia up, her limbs and injury dully throbbed as she peeked through her eyelids. Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer were standing outside the door, heads together. Emily was asleep in the lounge chair behind the bed and Rossi was watching whatever was below the hospital window.

“Hey, Amelia.” JJ touched her hand from the armchair beside the hospital bed.

“JJ.” Amelia whispered, gripping the woman’s hand and ignored the pounding of her heart.

“Spencer.” JJ called softly, Amelia almost smiled as his head immediately to her direction and she felt her heart stop. Or, speed up according to her monitor.

“Baby, are you okay?” He knelt beside her, his hazel eyes piercing hers.

“I’m okay.” Amelia looked away, the past couple of days flashing through her memory again and couldn’t bear to face the hurt that was bound.

“Maybe not try to give her a heart attack.” Morgan laughed, leaning down to hug her. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. Penelope is on her way up here.”

“Did you get…” Amelia swallowed, looking at Hotch’s face instead of the one way too close.

“Yes. He’s gone.” Hotch’s eyes flickered to Rossi, who looked away and patted her shoulder. 

“Do you need my statement?” Amelia’s fingers twitched in JJ’s.

“If you feel up for it, sure, but there’s really no rush.”

“Wanna get it over with while it’s still fresh.” She swallowed and stared at the hand in hers. “I was following Archer, he had seen something and I didn’t see Emily, so I went into the backyard. He came at me from behind and I woke up in that warehouse. He raped me three times the first day and was finishing on his fifth when he stabbed me. He’d beat me up before because I would scream and fight every time he did. He said I was his final victim, the one he had wanted from the start.”

“Did he say why?”

“He saw me and Archer on the news comforting a victim and stalked me from there.” Amelia glanced at Spencer, who’s face had turned dark and was focused on the bruises on her arms. “When he told me he killed Archer I… I provoked him to stab me. I didn’t mean to, I thought he’d react differently and I was mad.”

“He was going to try to kill you anyway, baby, he knew we were here.”

“No.” Amelia looked up at the ceiling, her voice toneless and weary.

“What did you say, Amelia?” Hotch spoke softly, laying a reassuring hand on her leg.

“I told him he couldn’t get me pregnant because I was already twelve weeks.” Amelia’s chest began to ache terribly and her lungs were on fire as she glanced at her husband again. 

“No, baby, no. Don’t be sorry, my love. Please.” Spencer whispered, pulling her hand to rest on his face. 

“Let’s give them some space, please.” Hotch told the others, “Let’s go update Garcia and get some food.”

“Why don’t you get some rest, baby?” Spencer kissed her forehead and sat in the chair JJ had abandoned.

She didn’t understand how he could be so calm and patient, forgiving her for not telling him about their baby before going on the mission. Amelia knew he should hate her for putting herself and her unborn child, one they had on and off again tried for, at risk and ultimately losing. How he could still love her after another man had used her over and over again.

A nurse came in not long after and talked to them, but Amelia couldn’t understand a single word and just stared at the wall until her eyes were heavy once again. She continued her practice of good memories and found her favorite one.

Spencer and Amelia didn’t wait longer than a month after their engagement to get married; they flew his mother in from Las Vegas, Gideon showed up at the last minute to walk his daughter down the aisle, and their small group of friends gathered in a small church.

“I have been in love with you since the day I met you and you took my hand, since you protected me in school and only ever wanted me to be your friend. You could have been popular, you are the most beautiful girl in any room.” Spencer tightened his grip on her hand as he spoke the vows he had written the day they’d gotten together, “There is nothing in this world that could ever change that, not addictions and not death.”

“You say I protected you and that may be true, but you have protected me from myself. You are my map, my northern star, you are my home. I can’t love anything or anyone this much, til death do us part.” Amelia grinned, “Even in death, I’ll haunt you until you finally join me in the afterlife.”

Thunderous applause filled the room as they were pronounced Dr and Dr. Reid, their legal identities tied together just as their souls were. They’d danced the night away, laughing at the speeches from Morgan, Penelope, and Spencer’s mom, who’d accepted Amelia immediately as her own.

*****

“Please talk to me.” Spencer murmured, his fingers making circles on Amelia’s hand. 

Amelia hadn’t spoken for days, aside from one worded answers to the nurses, doctor, and occasionally Hotch, if he needed more information on the unsub. Spencer stayed patiently and stubbornly at her side, despite her attempts to lock him out. He noticed the tears that slipped from her closed lids or the trembling of her lips when he spoke to her and she refused to look at him.

“I can’t help you if you don’t speak to me.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” Amelia’s voice was cold and her eyes remained on her feet, covered by a blanket. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“We’ve always shared everything, good and bad. You can’t shut me out.”

“I can’t bear this feeling anymore, Spence. I don’t want to voice it into reality.”

“I need to know what you’re thinking.” Spencer lifted her hand up to his lips, his eyes studying her face in the way he knew she couldn’t resist.

“We’re trained to know how to help our victims; survivors guilt, PTSD, the physical abuse or losing a pregnancy. I’ve told women and little girls that they are not dirty, they are not broken, and what happened to them was not their fault and does not make them so unworthy.” Amelia’s eyes finally met Spencer’s, allowing him to see the deep hurt and fear. “So why do I feel all that, despite my education?l Like you shouldn’t want me anymore?”

“There is next to nothing you could do to make me not want you. You getting kidnapped and forced… to do things you didn’t want to do is not anything you need forgiveness for.” He slowly moved to sit beside her on the bed. “Do you not remember when you found my stash?”

“Spence, we gotta go, there’s been another attack. Have you seen my jacket?” Amelia called, frantically scanning the hotel room.

“It was on the bed, last I saw it.” Spencer raised his eyebrow as she sighed in resignation at herself and tugged it on, patting Archer on the head.

“Here, you want your bag?” Amelia reached to pick it up, but it slipped through her fingers and spilled out onto the floor.

“Fuck.” Spencer breathed, lunging to shovel his things back inside as Archer jumped down from the bed and started whining as he nosed through the mess. “Archer, bed.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I got it” Amelia glanced at his face, furrowing her brows at his panic.

“It’s fine, I got it. Just go on.”

“No, no. What’s in here you’re worried I’m going to find?” Amelia felt frozen to the carpet as he stood up and held the bag tightly in his fists. 

“Nothing, you know how I am about my stuff.” Spencer shifted his eyes away from her face.

“Archer was looking through that.” She felt her heart as she stood up, holding her hand out for the bag and scolding herself for not seeing the signs sooner. “Let me see it.”

“Please.” He almost whimpered, his fingers trembling.

“We don’t hide things from each other.” Amelia reminded him, gently tugging the bag from his fingers and laid it on the bed.

“Don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” She reassured him, holding the bag open for Archer. “Find.”

Though she expected what her dog would find, Amelia couldn’t stop the shaking of her hands as a capsule of dilaudid landed in her palm. She should have known, he was constantly on edge, picking at his fingers, and had become more irritable; Amelia had never been annoying to him until recently.

“I am not… who you fell in love with. I’m not worthy of you anymore.” Spencer’s chin fell to his chest as he sank to his knees. “I can’t stop.”

“I will fall in love with you, over and over again. I don’t care how, where, or when.” Amelia pulled him into her lap, holding him as he let go. “No matter what, you’re mine. You will never be alone. We’ll get through this together.”

“I will fall in love with you. Over and over again.” Spencer pulled her head into his chest. “No matter what, you’re mine.”

“Please don’t ever leave me.” Amelia choked out, her fingers tightening their grip on his shirt.

“Never.”

*****