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pathologicalreid · 2 months

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in sickness and in health | S.R.

Minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (a smidge angsty) content warnings: alzheimers, weddings, children, babies, sad!spencer, reader wears a dress and makeup, cursing word count: 1.8k a/n: so this became sadder than I had initially intended. also i decided to try something new and write in a different POV and i don't know if i like it. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' new beginnings challenge, because nothing says new beginning quite like getting married! thank you for having this challenge!

If it were up to you and Spencer, your wedding would’ve taken place at a courthouse with no fuss, just rings and a certificate. Especially after he shot down your idea of a 24-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

In your defense, you pitched it to him as an intimate wedding in his hometown, but he didn’t take the bait.

But when the team found out that the two of you were planning what they deemed unsuitable, they all volunteered to help throw together a ceremony and reception. Everyone was under the duress of Penelope at the time, but they all volunteered.

She could be very formidable when she wanted to.

Your now maid of honor’s eyes were shimmering as she carefully adjusted some of the last few strands of hair upon your head, you had managed to talk her out of a tiara, but to Penelope Garcia, a veil was non-negotiable. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “the perfect bride.”

Laughing uncomfortably, you turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath, “Thank you, Pen.”

“I know I may have slightly nudged you in the direction of a bigger wedding-“

“More like punted,” you interrupt, an affectionate smile on your face.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned over to grab her buzzing phone on the velvet chair in your ready room. “Whatever, I just think that after everything you and Spencer have made it out of, you deserve a celebration that reflected that,” she speaks passionately, as she always does when discussing people in love.

Turning around to look back at the mirror, the tulle of your veil cascading over your shoulders as you grew giddy. Your dress was a whimsical, white chiffon that fell to the floor and moved with you as you walked. Small straps of fabric were delicately draped over your arms for an off-the-shoulder effect, you had never felt more glamorous. Although, if there was a day for glamor, your wedding day would certainly qualify.

You snap your head around to see Penelope furiously typing on her phone, “Uh oh,” she whispers, looking at the screen.

Humming, you step off of the pedestal and over to her, careful not to trip on your dress, “What’s wrong?” You murmur, trying to see what was distressing her. Dread built in your stomach; the team couldn’t be getting called away? Two of its members were about to get married. This is why you should’ve just gone to the courthouse; you never should’ve let Garcia talk you into this.

Jolting you out of your panic induced stupor, she answers, “Something’s up with Reid.”

Your heart clenches, “Reid? My Reid?” You whisper, “Is he okay?”

The two of you jump when someone bangs on the door, and she moves to open it, just a crack at first – to see who it is – and then all the way open to reveal Luke on the other side. Naturally, the members of the BAU made up your wedding party, and Luke as the best man was the easy choice.

He was mostly dressed, save for the bowtie that remained undone around his neck, “I need to steal Y/N.” His shoulders were rising and falling quickly like he had run across the building.

“She’s getting ready for the wedding. Her wedding,” Penelope answers, gesturing back to you. “Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

Really, you were mostly ready, you just needed to put your shoes on and line up. “There won’t be a wedding if we can’t get the groom out there,” Luke replies.

You warily approach the doorway, peeking around the door, “What’s wrong?”

“He just needs you,” Luke explains, gesturing toward you with his hands.

Nodding determinedly, you step out the door and run over to the other side of the building to where the groom’s ready room is, pulling the fabric of your dress up so that you don’t trip. Along the way, you pass a few guests, but you don’t stop.

It wasn’t news to most of them that you were a grounding force for Spencer, the two of you had been put through, as Luke put it, the wringer together and still managed to come out the other side. You skid to a halt in front of the door and knock quickly, “Spence, it’s me.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he murmurs through the door, echoing the earlier sentiments of Penelope. You know he doesn’t believe in it, which only adds to your concern.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fidgeting with the doorknob just to discover it’s locked. “If you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to go find Derek and have him kick it down for me,” you threaten, wondering if the reminder of all of the people here would coax him out.

There was no response from the other side of the door.

Sighing, you turn to look at Luke, “Can you give us a minute?” He nods, letting you know he’ll talk to Garcia before walking down the long hallway.

Once he’s gone, you hear the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, “Garcia will kill you if you walk in here.”

“Penny isn’t here, baby. It’s just you and me, okay?” You speak lowly, “What’s wrong, my love?” Dropping your hand on the doorknob, you startle slightly when it turns and the door swings open.

You yelp when Spencer pulls you in, closing the door behind you before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Immediately, you feel his body relax against yours, “Isn’t this supposed to be bad luck?” He murmurs.

Humming, you return his hug gratefully, “We’ve had enough bad luck, don’t you think? It’ll be okay.” His arms loosen around you, and you pull away slightly so you can look up at him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest, thumbing the satin fabric of his lapels. “And besides, I’m not fully dressed yet. I’m fairly certain that means it doesn’t count.”

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, holding you out at arm’s length. “You’re perfect, and I’m…” His voice trails off as he takes a step back from you, sighing as he takes a seat in one of the white chairs in the ready room.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt the fabric of your veil flow to the side, “You’re what, Spence?” You ask, slowly approaching the chair he was sitting in.

He furrows his brows in apprehension, “I think I might be scared of you,” he answers candidly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that spurted from your lips, “Am I really that scary?” You inquire softly, seeking more answers from him. You saw him better now, the darkness of his tux offset by the purple bowtie and handkerchief, joined with the light florals of his boutonnière. Spencer’s hair was a mess, a tell-tale sign that he had been running his hands through it.

Clearing his throat, Spencer looks up at you with a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I passed by your room earlier, and I heard you laughing.” He took a deep, tentative breath, “I thought you sounded so happy, and now I’m not sure I can keep you happy.”

Sighing, you duck your head slightly, “Spencer,” you say seriously, “are we still getting married today?”

“What?” He says in disbelief. “Of course we are, that’s not- I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “We’re still getting married; I’ve quite literally never wanted anything more in my entire life. I’m just worried,” he speaks quietly.

Gingerly, you step closer to the chair before he reaches out for you, placing a hand on your waist and gently guiding you down until you are sitting on his lap. “You make me so happy, Spencer Reid. I know that somewhere in that gorgeous brain of yours you know that, but I also know that you are your own worst critic.”

You’re sitting sideways on his lap with your legs latticed on top of each other. Gingerly, he places a hand on your thigh and another on the small of your back, “You deserve everything you want in the world.”

“And I want you. Doesn’t that count for something?” You ask him, emotion beginning to rise in your throat – you cannot cry, then the wedding would really be delayed. “Spencer, I’m so ecstatic that at the end of today, I get to be your wife. That’s such a privilege to me. You and I, we get to be so fucking happy today. We deserve that.” You tell him gently, “We get to be married and go on our honeymoon and come home and we can tell all of your stories to your mom, and we’ll have a baby or two and we’ll be so fucking happy.” You swallow your emotion, looking up at the light in the hope that it will clear your tears. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be so happy.”

Then it came, “I don’t want to forget you.” His voice is almost imperceptible, but you hear him still.

The ache in his voice feels like a stab to your heart, you were well aware that his mother had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t having a good day today, but the two of you had gone to visit her in the morning. Ever since she was diagnosed, it’s been like Spencer has a storm cloud hovering over him – he can’t be tested for the gene markers, not for a few more years. Taking a deep breath, you reach over and smooth his hair back, “If you get Alzheimer’s, I will sit down with you every day and remind you. I’m going to walk down that aisle today and tell you that I’m going to love you in sickness and in health and I’m going to mean it.”

“I’m scared,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch.

Using your free hand, you reach up and tenderly wipe a tear from his cheek, “We can take it.”

He nods in agreement with you, “Together, as a team,” he concurs, a slight amount of confidence returning to his voice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you take your moment. The last moment before you officially unite as one, and you let that moment take as long as you need. “I should go,” you whisper, looking over at the clock, the ceremony was supposed to have started by now.

Spencer leans down and kisses you, “I’ll see you out there?” He asks expectantly.

Nodding assuredly, you reach up and wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth, “I’ll be there.”

During the ceremony, you impressively were able to keep yourself together, until you promised him you would love him in sickness and in health.

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #wedding!spencer #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #mentioningmargins #spencer reid x fem!reader

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buckybarnesisdaddy · 11 days

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Meet Cute

Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI

Idea came from this post

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.

“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”

“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.

“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.

“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.

“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.

“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.

“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.

“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.

“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.

“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.

‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’

**********************************************

Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.

“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.

“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.

“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.

“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.

“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.

“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.

“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.

**********************************************

You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.

*Buchananclaymates is going live*

“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.

**********************************************

Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.

“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************

A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.

**********************************************

Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?

**********************************************

You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.

**********************************************

Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,

*New Follower- Bunny*

“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.

**********************************************

The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.

*Messages*

Hey!

I see I have a new follower 😉

Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.

Hope to see you around again!

Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’

“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.

“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.

Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.

**********************************************

Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.

**********************************************

The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.

It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.

*message*

I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉

The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.

****************************************************

“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.

“Hey, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”

“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.

“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.

“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.

“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.

“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.

“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.

“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.

“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.

**********************************************

Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.

“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.

“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.

**********************************************

“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.

‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.

“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.

“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.

“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.

**********************************************

When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.

**********************************************

*Message*

James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?

You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.

You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen

**********************************************

“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.

“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.

“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.

“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.

“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.

“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.

“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.

“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.

“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.

“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”

She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.

“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.

“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.

“Shoot.” Plan and simple.

“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.

“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.

“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.

“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“

“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.

“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.

“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.

“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.

“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.

**********************************************

Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’

“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.

“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.

“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.

You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.

“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.

“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.

“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.

“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.

“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,

“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.

“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.

“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.

You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.

“Where to?” You ask.

**********************************************

Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.

“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little

“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”

“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.

“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.

“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.

“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.

“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.

“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.

“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.

“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.

“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.

“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.

“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.

“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.

“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.

“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.

“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”

“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”

“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.

“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.

“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.

“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.

Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.

“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.

“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.

“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”

“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.

“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.

“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.

**********************************************

You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.

“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.

“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.

“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.

“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.

“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.

“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.

**********************************************

When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.

“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.

Message

Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉

Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”

Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething

#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #tiktok pottery Bucky Barnes

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toxicanonymity · 10 months

Note

No outbreak au where reader sends joel either nudes or a video because she's being extra bratty due to joel neglecting her for work. Cue a grumpy frustrated joel ready to come home give his girl exactly what she needs.

daddy Joel one shot

2.4k / joel miller x f!reader / master list

mood board by milla-frenchy 🖤

Summary: You've been bad. See ask.

WARNINGS: Big girthy age gap, brat-tamer-ish Joel (I do not write official kinks that follow rules), use of "daddy" and pet names, Joel is a little rough with you, hair pulling, hand swatting, manhandling, degradation, blow job, unsafe p in v, blindfold, dubcon breeding. NO use of Y/N.

next: a day in the filth

You get bored and send Joel a sexy picture. You don't have class and don't expect him home until 5:30 or later. He works at headquarters nearby most days. You can sometimes bait him home for lunch, but not lately, and it upsets you. He’s working on a big project and says he just can’t get away. He’s warned you--he needs to focus.

He texts you back. "What the hell are you doin’?" When you don't answer, he sends a video. You squeeze your thighs together before you open it, anticipating a stern warning about what he’s gonna do to you when he gets home. Usually, the video is from his office with the door closed. Occasionally, it's from the bathroom if he wants to show you what you do to him instead of tell you what he'll do to you.

When you open this video, he's standing outside in front of a chain link fence and cement is being poured in the background. He’s wearing the shirt and tie he left home in this morning, but also a hardhat. He has one hand on his hip with the sleeve rolled up. "Tryin' to piss me off so I toss you around? That it, baby doll? 'Cause all ya gotta do is ask daddy real nice." He points a finger at you. "You better cut it out." A crane starts beeping in the background as he ends the video.

You send your own video back. "I just miss you, Daddy." You're still on his bed, lying on your side, pouting. Your nipples are poking through your thin, lace camisole. Joel starts typing but stops and doesn't ever send anything.

Around 6:00 when you hear Joel park in the driveway, you look out the window. He comes around the front of his truck toward the house. His face is tense, his tie has been loosened, his forearms are pumped up. He’s unbuckling his belt as he walks, which sends a rush of need between your legs. Downstairs, the door opens then slams shut. His boots thud across the floor until he takes them off. As he makes his way up the stairs, his unfastened belt jingles and his feet land loudly with each step.

The bedroom door is open. His hands are clenched into fists when he enters and crosses the room. As he reaches the bed, he stops and puts his hands on his hips. His body is tense. He demands, "'the hell is wrong with you?" He stands next to the bed and glowers at you as he unbuttons his pants. The intensity in his eyes goes right between your legs. He continues, "You know how dangerous a construction site is? Gonna get me killed sendin' shit like that."

You sit up. "Sorry, Daddy," you say quietly as you sit up. You reach out for him. "I didn't kno-" he firmly grabs your wrist then throws your hand away.

His chest heaves. He grabs you by the hair and makes you look at him.

"Course ya didn't. . .Don't think about anything but this cock, do ya?"

Unsure if the question is rhetorical, you shake your head timidly, as best you can with his fist still holding your hair.

His face remains stern as he tugs you toward the edge of the bed. "On your knees." He releases your hair and you nod.

You fall to your knees on the floor. One strap of your cami falls down, exposing your breast. You don't fix it.

You reach for the growing bulge in his pants. He swats your hand away, then abruptly and firmly takes your chin in his hand to look up at him. He gives you a small shake as he does it.

"Daddy's in charge. Daddy knows best."

You nod.

"Gonna be a patient little doll, aren't ya?" You nod again.

"Good girl." He rubs the front of his pants, depriving you of feeling how hard he's getting for you. He sucks in a chest full of air through his nose. With his free hand, he grabs your breast, pushing it and kneading it flatly into your chest. He growls. You look straight up as he looms over you, massaging your breast and his considerable bulge at the same time. "What am I gonna do with you?" He looks you over and shakes his head in disapproval. "You're too bored, aren't ya? Lie here thinkin' about this cock all goddamn day.” You salivate watching him stroke his pants. “I told ya, you need a hobby."

Maybe that's what you do some days--the days you don't have class. Better than being back with your family.

"I'm not bored," You shake your head. “just miss you sometimes.”

"Now, listen. You wanna stay here? You better get pregnant or get a job. Are we clear?"

You swallow and nod hesitantly.

“Spoiled brat like you don’t want a job,” he adds. "So I’m gonna be nice and help ya with the first option.”

He releases your breast and urgently unzips his pants. "’Cause I’ve waited long enough for it, baby. Daddy knows best." He pulls down his boxers and wraps his veiny hand around his commanding cock. You nod. You wet your lips and pry your eyes from his cock to meet his gaze.

"Look at you. Already droolin', aren't ya?" His voice is dark and low. He's snarling. "Open that dirty little mouth." You do as you're told. He puts one hand on the back of your head and steps forward to put his cock in your mouth. You long to lick and suck the tip, but you're not in charge. You open as wide as you can and he guides his cock between your lips. He keeps going until it's nearly to the back of your throat, then he lays it onto your tongue. "Go 'head, now."

You bring both your hands to his cock to hold it steady. Having it in your mouth makes you throb with desire. You seal your lips around the smooth shaft and begin to suck.

"Good girl."

He holds your head in both hands and guides you on his cock. You suck and lick the underside strongly. His hips rock into you. When you try to let some of his shaft out so you can suckle on the tip, he grabs your hair as he pulls your head back toward him. "Watch it," he says coldly. Instead, you suck from the back or your throat. The fullness of your mouth and throat prickles your eyes with tears. You're so wet, you long to touch yourself. You take one hand off his cock and start to reach down, but he catches your hand and brings it back to where it was.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t you dare. Not unless Daddy says.”

After a minute of sucking his cock, you begin to taste his precum, one of your favorite tastes in the world. He says, "That's all, baby." He takes it from your mouth and it hits your chin on its way down.

—-

Joel steps out of his pants and leaves his stiff cock and balls hanging over his boxers. You sit there on your knees awaiting instruction. He crouches down to the floor and firmly grabs you by both arms. "Get up," he growls and forces you to your feet with an emphatic shake of your arms at the end. Then he looks you up and down and pushes you backwards onto the bed. You catch yourself with your forearms and elbows.

He wraps a big hand around his cock again and looks at your desperate, hungry face. He's still wearing his shirt and tie. He leans over you to yank your sleep shorts down below your knees. Then steps one foot between your legs, pressing his foot down on the shorts to take them off completely. He spreads your thighs, then kneels between them. He puts his hands down on the bed near your arms and hovers over you. His tie falls onto your chest. He supports himself with one arm while he unknots the tie, slides it out, and drops it onto the bed. He unbuttons his shirt, and you marvel at how the muscles of his supporting arm stretch the fabric. As he finishes the last button, you reach out for his bicep.

He catches you by the wrist again. "What are you doin?" He throws your hand down.

You're quiet.

"Who’s in charge?" He stands up and takes off the button-down. Your desire throbs as his chest and biceps emerge in just a tight undershirt.

"I forgot," you say. “You just look so nice.”

He fumes, "Forgot who’s in charge? Alright, know what?" He grabs the tie. "Let's remove temptation. C'mere. Sit up."

—-

You sit up on the bed, and he ties it as a blindfold around your eyes. “There ya go.” His hand on your chest pushes you down on your back again. He sits up on his knees to look between your legs, and he marvels at your glistening cunt. “Drippin’ all over the place, baby.”

He holds his massive cock above your cunt, gripping it loosely with just two fingers and a thumb on the lower half of the shaft. He drop the smooth tip heavily onto your clit, then he rapidly moves his cock it up and down, hitting you clit and teasing you with the rhythmic contact. You whimper, and tension swells in your abdomen. You gasp and bite your lip. You tilt your hips, trying to catch it with your leaking cunt.

“Good girl,” he says, then notches it at your entrance. He begins to push inside, and you gasp at the stretch. He doesn’t wait. He pushes in a little more. Once he’s far enough in to stay in, he braces his hands on the bed above your shoulders then shoves his length into you with a drawn-out groan that makes you twitch around him before your walls have fully made room. You can only imagine the look on his face. He pushes furthe, as deep as he can, with all his weight behind his pelvis. Your body's still trying to catch up. "God damn," he sighs. "Loosen up for Daddy.” You try your best to relax.

He slowly retreats then slams his thick length to the hilt with a low grunt. "Good girl.” He repeats the motion, sliding into you, splitting you open with the help of your ample slick. The smooth fabric of the tie feels nice, but you wish you could see how hot he looks. His face of pleasure is one to behold.

“Please let me see you, dadd-.”

"No," he replies coldly without hesitation. He punctuates it with a powerful thrust into your depths. “Not this time.” He pulls back most of his length.

Your lip trembles and you bite it to keep from crying.

He sighs loudly as he fills you up again. "Keep takin' it like a good girl, and next time you can watch."

He braces himself with a forearm on the bed near your head as he keeps pounding you. He urgently pulls down your camisole so both your breasts are out. He palms one hungrily as he thrusts into you and breathes heavily. He plants his mouth on your neck and sucks hard. Then he aggressively kisses your lips and your mouth thirstily accepts his. At this angle, he’s grinding into your clit. Your hips lift and your back arches as he kisses you and presses against your most sensitive place with each thrust. He feels you getting close and breaks the kiss with a moan.

“Go ‘head, baby. You can come.” He fills you with his cock a few more times, then you whimper as pleasure pulses outward from your clit, making you spasm around his length.

“Oh, Daddy,” you whimper as you come. “Ohh,” you moan. Your waves continue and your hips lift into his.

He groans as your cunt chokes his cock. Then his breathing becomes heavier, more desperate. “That’s right, baby,” he breathes. You would give anything to see his face. But even without the view, you can feel his climax approaching in his voice and breathing. He lays a massive hand on your lower stomach. "Gonna fill you up,” he pants. "Make this belly round." He moans and his cock begins to twitch. “Show everyone who’s Daddy’s good girl.” He slows his hips.

“Fuck,” he says between heavy breaths. He retreats one more time then slams all the way into you and his cock begins to pulse massively.

You moan, and your cunt twitches again. “Oh, Daddy.”

He quickly puts you in a mating press before plunging to the hilt again, filling you with a huge load. One more thrust as he empties his balls and you gasp and pant. He stays in position and sighs, then begins to catch his breath. “Good girl,” he whispers. “You can look now.”

You move the necktie up to your eyebrows and watch him hovering over you with his face pink, hair sticky, neck vein bulging. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you. He lays a hand on your stomach again. His chest is still heaving under his white understhirt, and his biceps stretch the sleeves. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he says. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he laughs. His face darkens. “‘specially if you don’t stop textin’ dirty when I’m workin’.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” you whisper earnestly.

“I forgive you. Know why?”

“Why”

“‘Cause you took this cock so good.” He rocks his hips into you one last time, making you gasp as he pushes his cum deeper. Then he very slowly pulls out. He puts a big pillow under your butt. “Don’t you move, now. ” He lays down next to you on the bed, head in his hand, and watches you look at him with affection. He kisses your cheek and says, "that's my girl." He gently strokes your chest and fondles your breasts, occasionally kissing you.

"Are you still mad," you ask.

"I don't think I can stay mad at ya, baby." He closes his eyes and kisses you long and deep. “Take my cock too good."

If you like this you might want to check your content settings and/or follow me to make sure you see my other fics since I get slapped with content labels sometimes which makes them not show up in tags. 😘

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Every comment and reblog means a lot and also helps me recognize you in the wild on Tumblr. (Plus, unabashed dope(amine) addict here 😫 )

Love you guys. 🖤🖤🖤

You can follow @toxicfics for notifications and @toxicrecs for fic recs.

Ask was from April, ty for your patience Anon 🖤

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91

and @bunnyskisses

#joel miller x reader #brat tamer!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou smut #toxicanonymity ☠️

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

SAY THAT AGAIN — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: the press have hounded you and jamie ever since your relationship was made public — his reputation leading them to constantly claim he’d cheated or just flat out didn’t deserve you. when a player on the opposing team makes a comment to rile him up… he takes the bait.

warning: swearing as usual, angry jamie to v soft fluffiness when he sees you. hurt/comfort reassurance vibes :-)

author’s note: that gif… no thoughts head empty !!! had to write this. hope you enjoy.

Jamie had been doing so well at keeping his temper down since he had been with you.

Something about you was like home to him — he was calm, relaxed, and most himself when he was with you, and everyone who knew him could see it.

If only the press saw it though.

There was never a dull day in the press regarding your relationship. Always some pathetic story in print about him not being good enough for you, or insinuating that he would cheat on you sooner or later, or already had.

Still, you tried your hardest not to acknowledge it or let it get to you both. Everything was good. You loved each other, and that’s all that mattered.

You made him happy and he made you happy, and whether or not other people cared enough to believe that meant absolutely nothing to you.

You were proudly seated up front in the stands for today’s Richmond game, a beaming smile on your face as Jamie scored an equaliser just 2 minutes after the opposing team went 1-0 up.

You cheered, blowing a kiss as his eyes briefly met yours amidst his celebration.

In the chaos of him celebrating, you noticed a player shove at his side — someone on the other team who you didn’t really recognise.

“You don’t deserve her,” he’d spat as he barged past him, “I bet I could show her a real good time.”

Jamie had been working so hard to control his temper on the pitch.

He knew you hated to see him so riled up, and with you around it generally did take him much more to get angry enough to kick off.

But here, he drew the line.

Being shoved, being shouted at, being fouled… He could handle that.

But talking about your relationship when the bloke knew absolutely nothing about you? Fuck that.

Furious, Jamie turned around and followed the player as he walked away, “Go on, say that again.”

“I said, you don’t deserve her and I could show her a much better time than you, dickhead. What? Mad that I’m right?”

Jamie snapped, elbowing the player away from him, watching the smirk fall from his face as he fell to the ground.

He was definitely exaggerating the pain he was in, but Jamie didn’t care. He knelt down to his side, pretending to reach out his hand to help him up.

You were watching intently, confused at why both players seemed to keep snapping their eyes up at you between frosty exchanges.

The commentators grumbled about what was going on, too, unsure about the delay in getting back to the game because they had no idea what the provocation for this little fight even was.

As his opponent took his hand to be helped up, Jamie leaned in closer to his face with a deep-set expression of anger.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about Y/N like that ‘cause she wouldn’t go near you mate. Fuck off, you disrespectful little prick.”

He yanked him up, and as soon as he was on his feet Jamie turned to walk away, but not before both players received a yellow card from the referee for whatever the fuck had just happened.

—

“What was all that about, baby?”

Your voice was soft, not accusatory. You never were, but it still hurt Jamie to have done anything that might remotely make you think badly of him.

You placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing your thumbs over his collarbones to soothe him as your eyes twinkled up at his.

“I’m sorry I kicked off,” Jamie frowned at you as you ran your palms over his arms and looked up at him, “I wasn’t gonna, but, he started talking about you and… I just saw red.”

You bit your lip, unsure whether to ask him what was said or whether to focus on calming him down.

“Whatever he said, it doesn’t matter, J,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’m here. And I love you. And you still scored twice, he played like absolute shit.”

“He did, didn’t he,” he smirked for a second, before shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in for a proper kiss, “Thanks, babe. I love you too. I wanted to ignore him but there’s only so many times people can tell me you deserve better before I start to wonder if they’re right.”

As much as it hurt you to see him so vulnerable, you loved how honest he was with you. The growth you’d seen in the famously egotistical fuckboy Jamie Tartt was crazy, and to get to love him was the greatest privilege.

“They’re not right though, not at all,” you whispered, “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt. And I don’t just mean the player, I mean you. You make me so proud to be your girlfriend Jamie, and whatever those pricks have to say about you, about us… Please don’t listen.”

His lashes fluttered as he blinked down at you, and you could see that he was starting to get emotional.

“When I’m on the pitch, I know I’m the best fuckin’ player there,” he shrugged, “But when it comes to you… That confidence disappears. I’ve never cared this much about wanting to be good enough for someone, but, like, you’re too good for me. And everyone else can see it but you.”

You shook your head vigorously at him, moving your hands to his face desperately, “That’s not true, Jamie. Like I said, I’m yours and that’s the way it’s going to stay. So you’d better start believing you’re good enough, okay? Because you are.”

He dipped his head to kiss you again, this time a much more feverish and desperate kiss.

“Now c’mon, big shot,” you tried to lighten the conversation, knowing that it would only go in circles, “I think I owe my boyfriend a celebratory meal for scoring twice and defending my honour.”

You kissed his nose, pulling back from the kiss and hooking your arm in his, and as you leaned your head on his shoulder you felt his muscles relax.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

—

INSTAGRAM

liked by samobisanya, masonmount and 12,386 others.

y/n: so fucking proud of you jamietartt, as always. i’m so lucky to love you and watch you do what you love every day, and i’ll never get tired of it. so many idiots think they know you and know us and know best about our relationship — but fuck ‘em. it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, and i’ll spend every day grateful that theeee jamie tartt is all mine (yes, thesun, all mine.) btw otherplayer, you’ll never be jamie tartt. x

jamietartt: ❤️❤️❤️

roykent: even i teared up at this.

tedlasso: aren’t you two just the darned sweetest!

———

thank you for reading !!! i included the insta post as a lil cute extra and i want to apologise for jamie being a lil ooc here but i wanted cute fluffiness at the end hahah and jamie deserves all the love in the world.

i’m getting through your requests don’t you worry, and if you have more feel free to send them my way. in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines

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violetrainbow412-blog · 7 months

Text

Day 18: protecting

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer asked, as he was about to walk through the door into the interrogation room.

You had captured the main suspect in a series of murders and Hotch gave Reid the task of interrogating him, but part of the plan was that after he asked some questions you would accompany him since you fit perfectly into victimology. If the man behind the glass was actually guilty, you were in the presence of a narcissistic and misogynistic criminal of the worst kind, violent enough to murder a woman in a matter of seconds if she didn't show interest, and that's why he wanted to make sure you were comfortable with that part of the plan.

“Yes, Reid. Everything is fine” to be honest, that answer wasn’t what you wanted to give him, but the case had given you so much headache in the last few days that all you wanted was for it to end, and if the only way to do it was to use yourself as bait, you were ready for it.

The man nodded and then opened the door to enter the room. He asked some questions to the detainee, who had asked not to be handcuffed as a condition for answering, and at one point your partner looked into the mirror to give you the signal.

Ted, that was the unsub's name, tensed up when he saw you enter and was quiet for a second, taking in your entire appearance before speaking again. The look completely sickened you, but you had to stop yourself and Spencer pulled out a chair so you could sit.

“This is my partner, Agent Y/L/N.”

"Agent? I thought a cupcake like this would be your secretary,” he whispered, reaching out to take your hand on the table. You were about to remove it when Spencer stepped forward to gently take it and lower it into your lap, removing it from the criminal's reach as he watched him seriously.

“She's here to watch you, nothing more. Let's continue with the questions."

The agent continued talking to get as much information as possible and you remained as composed as possible, avoiding doing anything that would contribute to his fantasy. But every time Ted deigned to answer he did so without taking his eyes off you and Spencer noticed your stiffness as the minutes passed, so he lowered one of his hands to your knee to squeeze it, as if he were trying to tell you silently that he was there for you.

His big, loving hand calmed you just a little, but that was better than nothing. But what little calm you could have was replaced by a bad feeling when you heard that disgusting man's voice.

“Have you seen the photos of those women?”

That was the second time he spoke specifically towards you and it made you look at him, noticing that he had a satisfied face that made you shiver.

“I am asking the questions”

“They were just like you…” he continued, ignoring your partner's words “Poor girls, they look so helpless and bruised. The man who did that to her definitely made them suffer. If I were you, I wouldn't walk around alone.”

“Mr. Sanders, you are here to answer questions, not to chat.”

“It's okay, Reid,” you murmured. The unsub wanted to talk and thanks to the profile you knew that the more involved you got, the more he would say, so you accepted the responsibility of pushing him away so that he would give you a confession: “If I'm honest, I'm not afraid, not of you or anyone. And I don't even believe that you killed those women”

Although Ted appeared calm, the slight movement of his eyebrows made you realize that being questioned by a woman was irritating him, but he wouldn't give in.

“Then why are you questioning me if you're so sure it wasn't me?”

“A simple suspect elimination procedure,” you responded, shrugging your shoulders. “If you're not handcuffed, it's not because you asked for it, but because you're not a danger. You’ve never done anything meaningful with your life, why would this time be any different?”

It was obvious that your words resonated with him and so you looked at Spencer to get his approval of your actions or a sign for you to stop. Luckily, you got the first one.

“And who are you to talk? You're just a little bitch that was sent here as a bad attempt to trick me”

“And even then, you won’t achieve in your life even half of the things that I have done”

“I highly doubt it,” he laughed.

You suddenly remembered an important characteristic that you had included in the profile and you thought that perhaps a woman hurting his ego would be the straw that broke the camel's back and finally spilled his guilt. It could also result in him attacking you, but it would be worth a try.

"Poor thing, who are you trying to fool?” you scoffed, leaning across the table in his direction until you only needed to whisper, “You can't even get a decent erection.”

Although you imagined it, you definitely didn't expect that man to lunge at you and grab your neck tightly in response to your provocation. He was extremely strong and that's why he managed to push you to the wall, where he lifted you a couple of centimeters off the floor while you kicked.

Fortunately he held you for only a few seconds, because right after Spencer had already lunged at him to free you. You never believed that your friend had the strength to push a grown, muscular man against the space next to you on the wall and not only that, but to bring him back to the table to subdue him with his chest against it and his arms in the back. You didn't even know when he had time to draw his revolver, which was already placed firmly against the detainee's temple.

You were struggling to catch your breath, but even with your blurred vision you managed to register your partner's expression. He was brimming with anger, like you had never seen before.

“If you touch her again, I'm going to put a hole in your head, do you understand?”

Amid the commotion you saw the security guards and Agent Morgan quickly enter the room to help restrain Ted, now placing a necessary pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“You're going to die, whore,” he growled at you, wanting to break free to attack you again. Your friend just roughly pushed him outside, ready to guide him to a cell inside the police station where he would stay until you guys figured something out.

With just two jumps Spencer was already in front of you and you felt that he was shaking when his hands went up to your face to lift it a little so he could check your neck, although you didn't know if he was shaking from anger or fear.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” his tone of voice had softened compared to the tone he had used with Ted and that made you feel a little safer.

“I… I think so.”

“That damn son of a bitch,” you heard him whisper between his teeth, taking the time to check every inch of your skin. Once he was satisfied, he looked you straight in the eyes and realized that you were crying “No, no, pretty…”

You didn't even know why you were shedding tears, it was probably just from the shock of what had just happened, but your friend's hug felt like a wonderful comfort.

“I didn't mean to get in the way of this, I swear.”

“Don’t say that,” he asked in a serious voice, pulling you closer. “Thanks to you we now have a reason to keep him here, and when we have enough evidence, we will give that monster what he deserves and we will lock him up for life. I will take care of it myself if necessary.”

There was a different kind of hatred in his words, something you had rarely seen towards an unsub: it was a personal and strong feeling.

“Thank you for defending me”

"Are you kidding?" he murmured almost offended, while he separated from you to observe you “We are a team and I will never let anyone lay a finger on you, do you understand me? Nobody. Never"

After that he held you against him again and then you could cry freely, sheltered by his warm and wide body. When had he become so strong? You didn't know it, but you were grateful that a man like him was taking care of you.

And as he comforted you, he realized that the promise he had just made to you wasn't empty, like many people make, because Spencer knew that he would be able to face his worst fears if you were in danger. He had done it this time and he would do it as many times as necessary to keep you completely safe.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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idy-ll-ique · 1 year

Text

mr grumpy man

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut, mentions of abuse and wounds, adultery

requested: nope

word count: ~4.3k

summary: bucky kidnaps y/n because her husband owes him money. what happens when he finds out her husband is abusive?

author's note: hi guys! i crossed 1450 followers today, plus my masterlist is about to reach 1000 notes, and ngl i'm kinda excited for that, so i wanted to post. i have been writing fanfiction even though i stopped posting weekly (it's a great stress reliever). so yeah... enjoy! (also lmk if you want me to write and post a part 2, since the ending to this imo feels kind of incomplete) also ik i am reusing names but go with it, it's difficult to come up with names :(

masterlist

The sound of her gasp echoed around the garage as the blindfold was lifted off her eyes. Y/N blinked in the dim light, her hand trying to reach up to soothe her aching head, but— She struggled to free her tied hands, to no avail. Finally collapsing against the chair, she looked around the room as her eyes adjusted to the lights. Or the lack thereof.

A bunch of men stood ahead of her. In the centre was a tall, brunet man, his blue eyes glistening with… mirth. He seemed happy, even though his face didn’t betray an emotion. “S-Sir… Who…” Y/N choked out, thanking the Gods that her mouth was still usable. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re awake,” the man crooned, walking up to her. She peered up at him, a little scared and a lot confused.

Bucky blinked at her. Why… Why was she looking at him like that? There wasn’t an ounce of fear he could see on her face, just— perplexion. “Mrs Silverstein,” he began. “Yeah?” He internally heaved a sigh of relief. At least he had the right person. But then why wasn’t she scared? Surely, being married to a mob boss meant she knew the danger mob bosses posed. “I’m James Barnes.” Y/N cocked her head to the side. “M-Mr Barnes, have you— kidnapped me?”

“If you know that, why aren’t you scared?!” Bucky burst out impatiently. This woman was starting to get on his nerves with her nonchalance. “...ooh, ah, save me…” Y/N mumbled a couple seconds later, pursing her lips to keep herself from smiling. She never thought she would be, but here she was now! Kidnapped! Meaning, away from her husband! Bucky growled in annoyance. “Are you fucking mocking me or something?”

She hurriedly shook her head, lowering it in shame. “Sorry.” He huffed. “Your husband—” Y/N nearly flinched at the mention. “—has stolen a huge sum of money from me. So now, my dear, you’re going to live with me until he returns the money.” Bucky wasn’t a monster. As annoyed as the woman was making him, he had no intentions of hurting her. He simply wanted to lure Edmund, her husband, to him by using Y/N as bait.

“Wait, seriously?” Y/N realised she might have come off a little excited because Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, his men exchanging glances in shock. “You’re— happy about that?” Bucky asked, bewildered. “No I’m not,” she muttered, clearly lying. Bucky shook his head, deciding to let it go. Surely she was so… scared and traumatised that she was acting bizarrely. It had to be that. “Okay… um, untie her, I’m taking her to her room.”

Two of his men stepped forward and untied her hands and legs. Bucky expected her to kick and scream upon being untied but instead, she simply stood up, dusting her clothes. “My room, sir?” Bucky stammered incoherently. “Uh, sure,” he ended up mumbling, leading her into the mansion whose garage they were in. He kept alert; maybe once away from the guards she would act up. “Intelligent,” he thought.

But even when they were away from all the guards, just the two of them, Y/N kept demurely following him, looking up at the mansion. “Wow,” she whistled, “This is your house? It’s pretty solid, dude.” Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. “Okay, what stupid fucking game are you playing with me right now?! You really think I’m that dumb, Mrs Silverstein? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?! Playing nice until you get a chance to run back to your husband?!”

This time, she did end up flinching at Edmund’s mention. Bucky noticed and paused, his brows furrowing in suspicion. “I don’t— I’m not playing any games. Look—” She rummaged through all her clothing. “I don’t have any weapons on me and plus my hands are recovering from injuries, so I’m not even strong enough to kill someone like you. Have you looked at yourself? You think I will be able to hurt you?” Bucky released a breath.

An awkward silence fell between them. “What are your hands recovering from?” he finally ended up asking as they commenced their walk. “Broke my bones in both hands, just a little accident, heh,” Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. A few more minutes passed. He glanced at her. She was looking at the decoration around the house, lips pursed, as if she was about to burst into tears.

And without thinking, he asked the one question a kidnapper never asks their victim.

“Are you okay?”

A teardrop leaked down Y/N’s eye and she hurriedly wiped it off, clearing her throat. “Yeah.” What the fuck was her deal? They soon stopped outside a bedroom; Bucky opened the door, revealing— “This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen!” Y/N gasped, awed. The colour scheme was pretty, there was an attached bathroom and also a balcony! "This makes my architect heart really happy."

"You're an architect?" Bucky couldn't help but ask again. "I was, before I got married. Edmund didn't like that I worked, he then started keeping me at home," she revealed. Bucky found himself getting annoyed again but this time not by Y/N, by Edmund. "Well, uh, you've seen everything. Spare clothes are in the wardrobe, um, the shower has clean water if you want to clean up… there's facewash and body wash in the bathroom and also toothpaste and a toothbrush."

"Aren't you, like, my kidnapper? Why such nice treatment?" Y/N wondered. "I have no personal vendetta against you, I'm after your husband. And I'm using you as bait. So don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. That's how my mob functions." A smile bloomed on her face. "That's a nice way to function. Uh, I'll see you then, Mr Barnes." Bucky licked his dry lips. "Yeah, s-see you."

He left her room, closing the door behind him. But he simply stood there, his thoughts racing. The way she wasn't upset that she was kidnapped, the way she flinched earlier when he mentioned her husband, and how sad she looked when she told him her husband didn't allow her to work after they got married. All the proof was there— She disliked him. Y/N disliked Edmund. But was there more to it?

Was she only upset about her job, or maybe something more? Bucky shook his head, heading to his own room. Now that he knew, her previous behaviour didn't seem so… annoying anymore.

The next morning, Bucky woke up with Y/N on his mind. Immediately upon getting out of bed, he rushed to Y/N's room, pausing before knocking. When she didn't open the door, his nose scrunched and he pushed the door open, freezing when he saw her naked in the middle of the room, a pair of his shorts in her hands. The spare clothes he'd given her. Y/N froze as well, the water from her wet hair dripping on the floor. She had just finished taking a shower. 5 uncomfortable minutes later, both of them snapped out of it.

Bucky was staring at her body. "My men didn't raise a finger on you," he whispered as she hurriedly covered herself with her towel. "Mr Barnes—" He entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he closed the distance between them. "I told them not to. Then what is this?" Her body was covered in scars big and small, and also healing bruises. Some that looked an angry red, some black and blue, while the almost healed ones looked yellow-green.

Her arms, her legs, her torso… except her face. Every body part was injured. "Y-Your men didn't do it," Y/N quietly assured him, avoiding eye contact. Bucky's chest heaved with anger. "Then who?" Y/N gulped in fear. "E-Edmund did." Bucky was hoping it wouldn't be the answer. "I fucking knew it," he growled, "I suspected it last night—" He stopped when Y/N touched his arm. "L-Let me get ready?" He left the room on her insistence.

Blood boiling, he stormed into the dining room, startling the housekeeping staff as he sat on a chair, glaring at the innocent table in front of him. He didn't think Edmund would be able to anger him more than when he stole Bucky’s money but apparently knowing that he abused his wife too did the trick. Maybe it was the way Edmund’s behaviour reminded him of his own father— that was a can of worms for another day.

He turned towards the door when he heard footsteps behind him. Y/N had just walked in, wearing a grey t-shirt that was too big on her as well the pair of shorts he’d seen previously. She silently sat in front of him, her head hanging low. “The broken bones, that was him, no?” A beat passed and she nodded. Bucky was so furious now he couldn’t speak; they ended up having breakfast without speaking to one another. Afterwards, Bucky sent Y/N back to her room.

The hours began passing. When Y/N noticed that the sun was about to set, her stomach hungrily growling being the thing that snapped her out of her trance, she wondered if she would be let out of the room and given some food. Turns out she didn’t have to wait for an answer— just as the thought passed through her head, the door opened and Bucky walked in, tongue in cheek.

“I’m back home.” Y/N didn’t know he’d left. “Did you… did you have lunch? I forgot to remind the housekeeping staff to give you lunch.” She shook her head no. “I’ve been here the whole day.” His face showed… remorse? An apologetic look crossed his face. “C-Come downstairs to eat something now.” Without a complaint, she got off the bed and followed him towards the dining room. On the dining table was a big plate of cut-up fruits.

Bucky beckoned her to have the first bite. Like in the morning, they sat quiet, until Bucky spoke first. “I called… Edmund today.” Her gaze lifted from the fruits to his face. “What did he say?” she whispered, somewhat dreading the answer. “I asked for a huge ransom, basically something along the lines of what he stole from me. He said… It'll take time. He also threatened me.” This time a chuckle escaped his lips. “If you do anything to my wife, I swear,” he mimicked, causing Y/N to laugh as well.

“Bold coming from him,” she sighed, a tiny smile showing on her face. The mood dimmed again— as “fun” as the conversation was, they weren’t… friends. Y/N was still his victim, Bucky still her kidnapper. There were boundaries they knew they couldn’t cross. But still, there was something…

After finishing the fruit, Bucky took her back to her room. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he cleared his throat, poking his tongue in his cheek again. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, clasping her hands as she swayed back and forth on her toes and heels. She was about to speak when Bucky began walking away, thinking the conversation was done.

She only stared after him.

The days began passing quicker. In what felt like a mere minute, a week passed since Y/N's kidnapping. There was still no sign of Edmund, and Bucky was getting impatient. Impatient not because of money, impatient because Y/N was growing on him. He’d started finding her and her mannerisms tolerable and dare he say it— cute. He had started finding her adorable.

Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her figure— the figure he’d seen all of before. Y/N was pretty, no doubt, but Bucky mentally hit himself with an imaginary stick every time she was around. He couldn’t possibly think his victim, another man’s wife, was beautiful. But there was no doubt about the fact. Bucky was steadily falling.

Unbeknownst to him, so was she. As little time as they spent with each other, Y/N found herself eagerly awaiting the next time she could see him. She found herself admiring his looks when he wasn’t looking. His steely blue eyes, his long brown hair, his stubble, his physique— the upper part of which she had managed to catch a glimpse of one time— him. She admired him.

Not to mention the fact he treated her way, way better than Edmund ever did. Always gave her food and water, checked on her from time to time, and gave her good living conditions. This was much less a kidnapping and much more a vacation of sorts. The only difference being? While Bucky actively hated himself for falling for her, Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

If anything, she had subconsciously begun to pamper herself, as well as she could, so Bucky would notice. He gave her a reason to distance her thoughts from her husband; when they got married, and when the abuse began, she used to think no one else could like her, and the fact that Edmund was still willing to keep her as his wife— she should accept that. But the previous week, she hardly ever thought of him.

She was staring out the window of her room when there was a knock on her door. Her hands flew up to flatten her hair as the door opened. Like she hoped, Bucky stood on the other side, wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants. She blinked owlishly at him. “Come with me.” Y/N hurriedly got off the bed and waddled behind him. To her surprise, he began leading her out of the mansion.

Y/N hadn’t been out of the house since the first night. Dread filled her mind— was Edmund here to pick her up? Instinctively she stopped in her tracks, her eyes filling with tears as she grabbed Bucky’s arm, stopping him as well. He whirled around, startled to see her crying. “Wh-What happened, why are you crying?” A choked sob escaped her lips as she shook her head.

“He’s here, isn’t he? P-Please don’t hand me over to him, please,” she croaked. Before Bucky could speak she piped up again. “Just kill me— I b-beg, Mr Barnes, please!” Another sob left her lips and Bucky felt his resolve breaking. Somehow freeing his arm from her grasp, he walked towards her and hugged her tight, holding her close to his chest. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing her back.

Y/N slowly stopped crying, her fists clutching the back of his tank top. Bucky rested his chin on her head, one arm wrapped tight around her waist as the other continued to rub her back, helping to even out her breathing. His resolve cracked fully— no, Edmund was not getting her back. “He’s not here,” he assured her quietly, “I promise.” She finally calmed down.

“Then where are you taking me?” The way her voice had become so tiny suddenly… Bucky wanted to hit himself for unnecessarily scaring her. “For a walk. I-I thought we— I mean you, should take a walk in the garden for some… fresh air. And I’ll come along… to keep an eye on you,” he stammered. A second passed and she nodded. “I’d like that.” He internally heaved a sigh of relief and they began walking to the mansion’s garden again— this time holding hands.

Y/N was so shaken up and frightened that she refused to let go of Bucky’s hand. Each time he tried pulling away, she whined and held his hand tighter. “Y/N.” Hearing his stern tone, she reluctantly let go of his hand, only to be surprised as he draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. They fell quiet. After spending an hour outside, Bucky noticed it was dinnertime.

They had dinner. And then it was time for Y/N to go to her room again. Try as she might to fall asleep, she couldn’t. Each time she closed her eyes, Edmund’s face appeared in front of her, scaring her awake. Quivering, Y/N stood up, walking out of the room. She wanted to see Bucky. But she didn’t know where his room was. Sighing in defeat, she slid down in front of the door, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. The bedroom felt too unsafe.

What she didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t in his room. He was in the living room, having a glass of whiskey. An hour would pass before he made his way upstairs; since Y/N’s room was nearer to the staircase than his own, he had to pass by in front of her room to go to his. And he was shocked to see her sitting outside, rather than inside. “Y/N?!” She looked up at him, pressing her lips shut to keep herself from crying in front of him again.

Also sighing in defeat and throwing his morals and ethics aside, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. A gasp left her lips as Bucky pinned her against the wall. Her hands were held over her head, Bucky holding her wrists with one hand as the other rested on the wall right next to her waist. “Fuck you for being so adorable and perfect, honestly,” he mirthlessly laughed before pressing his lips to hers in a noisy, wet kiss.

Y/N involuntarily moaned as the kiss got too overwhelming. Bucky, hearing that, grabbed her waist with his free hand and shifted closer to her, grinding his steadily hardening cock against her most sensitive area. “Mmh,” she breathed out. “Liking that, princess?” His hand let go of her wrists to take off the t-shirt she wore. When her breasts came into view, Bucky groaned.

“Ungh, M-Mr Barnes, ah,” she whimpered when he bent forward, taking a nipple between his teeth as his hand toyed with the other one. “Fuck,” he hissed when she rolled her hips against his. Not wasting more time, he knelt in front of her and yanked her shorts down, the cool night air colliding with her wet cunt making her moan. Bucky smirked as he smeared some of her juices around with his fingers.

“So fucking wet for me,” he hummed, grabbing the back of her thighs before burying his face between them, lapping greedily at the juices. His nose rubbed against her clit; Y/N’s fingers curled in his hair, gently pulling him closer. Bucky didn’t even feel like coming up for air. She had the prettiest cunt he’d ever seen, and she tasted sweet, just like her personality. “Bu-Bucky, I’m gonna cum!” When he heard that he finally stopped and looked up at her.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as she rested her head against the wall, her chest heaving. That picture drilled itself into his head; he would never forget that look, how ethereal she looked as he made her fall apart on his tongue. “Cum for me, my love, you won’t be doing so for anyone else for a long, long time.” Hearing those words Y/N let go.

Bucky drank everything she offered. It was like an elixir to him. “So gorgeous, so delicious,” he whispered and stood up, holding her by the hips when her knees buckled. That orgasm had been her most powerful yet. Bucky definitely knew what he was doing. “Come.” He gently carried her in his arms bridal style, allowing her to rest as he took her to his room, kicking open the door with his foot.

Y/N passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Bucky suspected she’d fallen asleep earlier than that, in his arms, rather. His cock was throbbing hard; lying down next to her, he lowered his pants and took his length in his hand, leisurely stroking it as he thought of Y/N— the look on her face. No matter if he got or didn’t get the money from Edmund, he wasn’t giving up on Y/N. She was his now, his to care for. His to fall for.

He felt his orgasm coming. With a whisper of her name he let go, spurting hot, white liquid onto his thighs and hand. Bucky then cleaned himself and pulled his sweatpants up over his limp cock, turning on his side to envelope Y/N in his arms. She, still asleep, turned into him too, burying her face in his chest, curling into him.

For the first time since forever, a genuine smile bloomed on his face.

The next morning couldn't arrive sooner. Bucky woke up before Y/N, and when the previous night's memories resurfaced, one more smile tugged on his lips as he turned to look at the woman asleep next to him. Her lips were turned upwards, and he wondered what kind of a dream she was having. "Oh, Bucky," she suddenly whispered, humming as she turned to lay on her back, facing away from him. Bucky didn't contain his chuckle; the noise woke Y/N up and she blinked her eyes open.

"What was I doing in your dream?" he asked her in a whisper as soon as she gained her senses. "We were in a park eating ice-cream together," she sleepily whispered back, accepting his invite to snuggle closer to him. "But you moaned my name," he cheekily pointed out, "So what was I doing exactly?" At that her cheeks heated up. "I— I had some ice-cream on my lips and you—" She couldn't finish her sentence out of embarrassment. Bucky laughed quietly, trying not to ruin the serenity of the morning.

He leaned in and gave her a peck on the corner of her mouth. "I did that?" Squealing a little, she hit his shoulder and buried her face in his chest, hands covering her eyes. By then Bucky was smiling so wide, he thought his mouth was going to tear open. He wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her impossibly close as they simply lay there, basking in the quietness and bliss of the early morning sun's rays coming in through the closed, white curtains of the window.

Alas the bliss didn't last long; Bucky's phone began ringing, snapping them both out of their trance. Bucky reached for the night stand and grimaced when the Caller ID came into view. "Why him?" Y/N groaned as well, wrapping her arms around herself. "Yes, Silverstein? Do you finally have my money ready?" Bucky drawled, his arm snaking around Y/N's waist. "How is my wife? Is she alright? Let me talk to her!" Bucky glanced at Y/N.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispered to her and her eyes went wide. She tried saying no but Bucky had to be convincing one way or another. So she decided to help him.

Taking the phone from his hand, Y/N held it to her ear. "Hello?" She heard Edmund's sighs of relief. Fake. "My love, are you okay? He hasn't hurt you, has he?" If by hurt you mean making me pass out by giving me a strong orgasm then yes, yes he hurt me. Badly. "No he hasn't." Edmund mumbled something on the other end. "Listen, I have the money ready, okay? I'm getting you back, I promise! You're mine, my wife, and I'll never let anyone hurt you."

"Then why are you the one hurting her, asshole?" Bucky muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. Y/N cracked a half-smile at his tone before clearing her throat. "Y-Yeah. So when are you… coming to pick me up?" Bucky snatched the phone from her hand. "I'll be there this evening, my love. I'll assure him that I've come alone, but I will bring some of my men— once I have you back, I'll have them attack him and we'll walk away with the money. You have to play along, hm?"

Bucky smirked. He held the phone away and covered the speakers, turning to Y/N. "Say okay, I'll see you in the evening." She nodded and Bucky gave her the phone. "I'll see you in the evening, okay," she told Edmund, who ended the call. Y/N kept the phone down on her bed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. "What did he say? He's coming in the evening?" Bucky laughed loudly, startling her.

"That's the thing! He thought he was still talking to you, so he told you this really elaborate plan that I wasn't supposed to hear. And now I'm one step ahead of him." Y/N laughed at his words too. "Really?! That's so awesome! Now you can plan accordingly, and take the money back!"

He tugged on her hand to pull her close. "Take the money and keep you by my side." Y/N's cheeks flushed. "And that," she mumbled shyly. "Well, now that I know he's coming in the evening, there's still plenty of time that we have, you know…" Bucky hinted coyly, making her lie down on the bed and hovering above her, propped up by his arms. Y/N smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. "Show me what you got, then."

"Oh, trust me princess, I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve, let's see if by the end of it you can even walk."

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr #appreciation post

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bonny-kookoo · 2 months

Note

green!family is so cute :((( does oc see their lowkey family portrait on the fridge when she comes over?

The second time Jungkook visits with his daughter, she's a lot more comfortable basically zooming right off into your apartment the second Jungkook has taken off her boots and coat.

It makes you happy to see her this comfortable in your home, even if Jungkook feels a bit embarrassed by the way she visibly forgot to even greet you, instead jumping right onto your sofa since her favorite cartoon is already running on the TV. "I'm so sorry, I swear she's more polite usually-" He defends himself, but you wave it off.

"It's not that big of a deal Jungkook, really. I'm glad to see her happy." You reassure the young father. After all, it must be quite a handful to manage such a young child, work, and your own life all at once. And honestly, it's not surprising she's still rather unsure about you- you've noticed that she hesitated while looking at you as Jungkook had slipped off her boots.

She does, often, look at you from a distance. As if she's trying to figure out how to approach you, of if she should. So it's not that she's impolite- she just doesn't know how to really act towards you.

"I guess it might be because.. well, she's mostly around me, or my friends. And they're all men." He sighs. "I'm.. I mean, you know, I've been with women here and there, but I've.. always kept them from her, you know? I didn't want her to get confused, or attached, and then..."

"Jungkook, that's completely reasonable." You say, walking into the kitchen with him to get something to drink. "...though I do feel rather special now, hearing that." You tease, and much to your surprise, he takes the bait right away, and bites down with the force of a predator.

"Well, I'd promised myself to only ever introduce her to someone I'd see myself with long-term." He explains, walking closer to you until his hands are on your hips, eyes traveling from your neck up to meet your gaze. "And from what I can tell... and from what I've.. experienced.." He says more quietly, a warmth to his words that softens up your soul, as he leans even closer, eyes moving from your lips back to your eyes again, unsure. "...we do fit quite well." He teases with an impish grin, making your ears flop down a bit in shyness, clearly getting the hint at what exactly he's talking about.

"Minji-" You start, but he only raises his brows before he tilts his head to the side.

"Is in the living room, watching TV." He calms you. "But don't worry- I won't yet do that." He purrs, leaning closer to instead kiss your cheek, chuckling.

"But we already kissed.!" You complain as he moves away from you, grinning as he takes his and your cup of tea to bring along into the living room.

"Not really." He denies however, sending you a rather odd look. "Not.. like that." He reminds you-

and you realize what he means.

Once you sit down on the sofa- Jungkook between you and his daughter, the mood eases up quite a lot, both you and Jungkook talking about random things of your days while Minji happily watches the frog-cartoon next to her father, only occasionally getting distracted by something.

But it's when both she and her father leave that suddenly, your doorbell rings again, causing you to open it, surprised. "Did you forget something?" You ask, but instead of Jungkook answering, Minji whines, and jumps with something in her hands, holding it out for you to take.

"She left it in the car, but really wanted you to have it." Jungkook explains as you unravel the rolled up page of paper, curious as to what it might be.

It's a page out of a coloring book, colorful strokes of crayon painting the bodies of the frogs and background. A sun in the corner with a smiling face, little trees and flowers all around, and in the middle, three frogs. Two bigger one's stand next to a smaller one in the middle on a swing, the small child-frog and the bigger frog on the left colored different shades of green- with added strokes of a black fineline marker, clumsily drawing in two small lines on one side of the big frog's mouth.

Jungkook's piercings, you realize. She even drew them some bunny ears, even though they're a bit off-center and different sizes.

But what catches your attention most is the frog on the right, painted with orange and red, a fluffy big tail added to it, making it clear who it's supposed to resemble.

A small hand tugs on your shirt. Only now do you realize your eyes have begun watering up.

"I-It's really pretty Minji." You praise, blinking the tears away before they can fall, as you squat down.

"She wants you to have it. We have made a copy, it's hung up on our fridge." He kindly tells you, and you nod, sniffling a little, trying hard to keep it together. But the gentle hand of the little girl carefully petting your head is enough to make you break down a little, moving the picture away as to not get any tears on it.

The picture on the fridge presenting so much more now than just a child's drawing.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

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anothermansjeans · 1 month

Text

Kaleidoscope

aaron hotchner x f!reader

a/n: thank you to those who voted on the poll! i'll probably put up another one either tomorrow or the following day <3 inspiration from kaleidoscope by chappell roan !!

summary: to y/n, love is a kaleidoscope. as beautiful as it is, it's confusing and complicating, and it hurts so much.

warnings: not proof read </3 she's angsty (w/ a happy ending) mentions of guns, mentions of death (very little don't worry), mentions of throwing up, violence, hotch is a bit of a dick but he has redemption...?

word count: 3k

Love is a beautiful thing. It can bring light into your life. It's the brightest of colors, the most elegant of shapes. To put it simply, love is like a kaleidoscope.

Love is also a complicated thing. How it works– you'll never truly know. There’s change, but it also stays the same. It’s never confined to a shape alone. Again, in simple terms, love is like a kaleidoscope.

For Y/N, that was the easiest way to put it. When in love, it seemed as though her entire world shifted. It was a confusing and beautiful mess. The problem with this tilted and symmetrical mirror view though, was integrated in the blind spots. In Y/N’s case, that meant her judgment– one of the most integral aspects of her job as an FBI profiler.

She wasn't sure when she switched to her kaleidoscope view on life, but she knew it had to be around the time Hotch offered himself up as bait to the current unsub they were trying to catch. She was worried– she had a right to be. Her and Aaron had been together for a little over a year now– you could say they were in it for the long haul– and she didn't want to lose her love, her life, her future. She was on edge for the rest of the case, but the worst was the moment it was confirmed the unsub had Hotch.

The team was ordered to sit in the car. Stay in the car until they heard either the code word from Hotch or a confession from the unsub. Y/N knew to take orders seriously– she was almost as stern as Aaron at times when it came to protocol during undercover ops. The problem came when they could clearly hear things start to get rough and not only were they still missing a confession, but Hotch had yet to say anything. She was terrified. He didn't have his gun– the entire team knew he would've been searched the moment he walked in the high-end club the victims frequented– and the thought of him not being able to defend himself sent chills down Y/N’s body.

Again, she can't remember the exact moment it happened, but one minute she was in the passenger seat staring intently at the door to the club while listening in, and the next she sent a bullet through the unsub’s head.

She fucked up.

She knew she fucked up the moment Aaron made eye contact with her and behind the lividness, she barely found the love that resided. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to tell him that the reason why she went in guns blazing was because he was going to get himself killed. She couldn't live without him. She didn't want to.

Unfortunately, that time never came. The moment they found themselves alone in the aftermath happened to be when the paramedic left Hotch after a quick check-up.

“You're lucky.”

His rough voice caused Y/N’s body that had been previously leaned against the ambulance to shift towards Hotch. “Excuse me?”

“You're lucky. If he wasn't the unsub and if he hadn't been assaulting me, you'd end up fired. Possibly arrested.”

“Aaron, you have to know–”

“You crossed a line.” His voice was raised, “when we got into this relationship we had a conversation. Keep it out of the field and away from the team until it is necessary for them to know.”

She scoffed at his words, “you're worried about the team finding out? We just had our one year anniversary two months ago. I live with you and Jack for God’s sake, Aaron. Your life is one of the most important to me– I would do it again if I had to.”

“You crossed a line,” he repeated, exasperation on his face. He was acting as if she wasn't understanding a word he said. “How the Hell am I supposed to trust you?”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “oh my fucking God.” She shook her head and turned her back to him, placing her hands on her head as she heard the low mumble she definitely wasn't supposed to hear.

“We were better when we were barely friends.”

What the actual fuck.

Tears began to burn in her eyes as she spun around and saw the look on Aaron’s face. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. She opened and closed her mouth twice before words spew out with a sob. “Well if that's what you want, agent Hotchner.”

She could barely look at him again, so she quickly walked away. She didn't speak to anyone. She sat alone on the jet ride back to Quantico and as soon as they hit the tarmac, she booked a hotel.

When the two mandatory days the team gets off ends, Y/N immediately calls out sick. The anxiety of having to see, hear, or even being in the same building as Hotch made her physically sick, and she was in no shape to be driving down to the office. She feels like a coward– she has this idea that a “strong woman” wouldn't just run away to a hotel when shit hits the fan. She thinks they'd stay and fight, or at least grab their stuff before leaving, but when she was in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as the feelings from the last few days trek through her body, she realizes that she is a strong woman. She walked away from him. Albeit, she let him decide where their relationship stood after his snide comment, she was still the one to take herself away from the situation.

What he said hurt her. She knows she would follow his lead with whatever is decided in regards to their relationship. Even though it felt as if he made that decision right then and there. Even after the hurt that he caused her heart, body, and soul with his words, she always seemed to go back to her kaleidoscope view. Things seem to be changing… but they always stay the same.

She took another two days to herself. The second day in her hotel room was spent trying to gain the energy back she initially lost while her body found a temporary home on the bathroom floor, and the third was spent using her key to grab a few of her clothes from the home she shared with the Hotchner boys while Aaron was at the BAU and Jack was at school.

Jack. God, she didn't even want to think about how he may have been feeling. That boy felt like her own in every way that counted. She hopes Aaron broke it to him gently… whatever “it” is.

When she did come back to work, she was bombarded by multiple questions from the team regarding her whereabouts. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I must've gotten something during the last case.”

She spoke that lie with her full chest. She had to, especially in a room full of profilers.

When the interrogation was over, she was barely able to sit down before hearing the voice she had been dreading for almost a week. “Y/L/N.”

Hesitantly, she turned her head up to see Hotch at his office door. The nod of his head requested her to go in there and talk to him, and she immediately felt a turning in her stomach.

She counted as she walked up. Normally, she would be up there in less than thirty seconds. This time, she took a minute and forty two seconds.

“Yes?”

The look on his face looked pained with a mix of anger. “Why weren't you here? What if we had a case?”

“I was sick.” Her voice was soft. She really wasn't in the mood to fight.

“This is why we shouldn't have started any–” he cut himself off, a look of regret immediately flooding his face. “I meant that our relationship shouldn't be getting in the way of work. The team–”

“Aaron, I was really sick.” She was tired of his whole “the team” bullshit. Oh fucking well if they knew. “You know,” she continued as she stared at him, “throwing up in a hotel bathroom and all.” On instinct, his eyes not-so subtly panned down to her stomach, and a ball of fury must have risen up from the depths of Hell and found itself in her because maybe she was ready to fight. “Do not flatter yourself, Aaron.”

Her eyes were wild, and his paled expression knew he was about to have his ass handed to him. “I have no idea who you think you are. Yes, you are my boss, but you are– or were– my partner. Equals. You're allowed to get pissed with me, you're allowed to reprimand me as your subordinate, but you are not allowed to talk to me as if I foiled your little plan on keeping our relationship a dirty little secret to the team.” Taking a breath, she felt the tears she thought she had left back at the hotel make an appearance. “I understand wanting to keep things professional, but you lost that when you brought up our personal relationship in order to make me feel like shit in the field.

“I was terrified for you. Terrified! I never want to imagine losing you– Jack losing another parent, but that's all that went through my mind, and the fact that you're more worried about my professionalism, and me making the team realize we're together is extremely telling.” Feeling a sob making its way through her body, she spoke her next words with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. “I tormented myself these past few days thinking I was a coward running away from this fight, but I’m not. I’m letting you decide. Go ahead, be the coward, and I’ll find a way to understand. Maybe one day we’ll go back to barely being friends.”

She could barely make it out of his office before she completely broke down, and ran to the bathroom out of sight from everyone. However hard she tried though, the entire bullpen was able to see and hear her, and eyes immediately went to Hotch.

“What the Hell happened?” Morgan looked frazzled. No one has ever seen Y/N like this.

“Hotch, what’s going on?”

“Is Y/N okay?”

“Should one of us go to her?”

“Aaron.”

The last voice he heard was the one to pull him away from staring at where Y/N walked away to. Looking over, Rossi had a solemn expression and gestured to Hotch to follow him in his office.

“What's happening with you two?”

The question was a simple one really. Before the last case, Aaron would say that he and Y/N are happily in love. They found solace in one another, Jack loves her, he wants to marry her. He still does, that hasn't changed, but the moment he saw Y/N rush into the club putting everything at risk for him… it scared him. He knew he would have done the same thing, but seeing the way Y/N could so easily risk her job, her life, just to save him? He never wanted that to have to happen. So maybe the question was simple, but his true answer would be loaded.

“We’re together,” he opted out of explanation. He knew Rossi would understand.

“Yes, and?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Hotch tilted his head. Rossi had this look on his face as if it wasn't a shock that they were together. “and I screwed up.”

“How,” the older man was getting impatient.

Sighing, Aaron closed his eyes. “I said things. I made her feel bad and prioritized keeping us a secret and being professional.”

“You must not think we’re good profilers."

Aaron knew what he meant by that. The smirk on Rossi’s face said that he didn't even believe what he was saying. Deep down, he did entertain the idea that the team already knew about them, and the more he thought about that, the less and less his anger towards Y/N was originally rooted in spilling that secret.

When he hadn't said anything for a few moments, Rossi spoke again. “So what was the real issue?”

Shaking his head, Hotch scoffs. “She is so selfless at times it scares me.” Rossi’s silence prompted him to continue. “She risked so much going in that club and killing that unsub, but all she cared about was me. She told me she couldn't imagine Jack losing another parent and I just– it reminds me of Haley.”

A look of understanding washes over Rossi’s face as Hotch continues.

“This job kills, Dave. The only way I know how to compartmentalize when it comes to it is to stay professional and try not to think about the love of my life also there doing what I do and potentially getting herself killed. I don't think me or Jack could go through losing someone else.”

“Tell her that.” Rossi’s voice is stern. “Don't push away everything you two have built– which I’m assuming took about a year to build?”

“A couple months over.”

“And I’m assuming you love together seeing that none of us are ever invited over to your places,” the smirk on his face caused a light blush to appear on Aaron’s face. They really never were that subtle. “But Aaron, I think you're too old for me to say this but love is a crazy thing. It’s the nicest but also the most confusing thing. She will understand how you're feeling. It seems to me she already knows that feeling.”

Feeling a thousand times better but a million times worse after thinking about Y/N currently breaking down, Aaron makes a move towards the door to go find her, but is stopped when JJ gives both him and Rossi a weak smile.

“We got a case.”

It’s five days later and the case is still ongoing. Y/N’s been distant– rightfully so– and Hotch has been trying to find every moment possible to talk to her, but it’s dejectedly decided that won't be happening until afterwards. A break in the case had finally happened when they had come to the realization that the unsub had to be an officer on the case, and unfortunately that officer happened to be the one Y/N was currently riding with to a crime scene.

The team was at the precinct when Hotch’s phone rang, an incoming call from Y/N, and the dreadful sense of deja vu set in when he heard the voices on the other end.

“Where are you taking me?” Y/N asked. A slight panic could be detected in her voice.

“I told you… the next crime scene.”

“You'll never get away with it.”

The click of a gun could be heard and hot tears began to stream down Aaron’s face. “Try me, Sweetheart.”

“Garcia, we need that location,” Morgan could be heard behind him, but he was hyper focused on his phone. Mumbles and grunts were the only things heard on the speaker of Hotch’s phone followed by the sound of car doors closing. “Highland Bakery! Garcia says it's been abandoned for thirty years.”

Hotch was the first one out the door. It wasn't happening. Y/N would be safe. He refused anything otherwise.

When they reached the building Hotch had to remind himself over and over again to stay rational. He had to stay level headed and keep you safe, which is what he did. The moment the tact team went in there, Y/N was found half asleep, arms chained above her head, duct tape over her mouth, and cut marks along her legs. She was hurt, but she was safe. Hotch didn't even care about the unsub at that point, knowing the rest of the team was more than qualified to apprehend him. His main priority was getting Y/N to the paramedics as soon as possible.

Hours later sitting in a tiny hospital chair, Aaron held onto her hand for dear life. Her hand squeezed his, causing him to become vigilant, and when she opened her eyes, he immediately started to cry and brush her hair back. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice was rough, and she sat up the tiniest bit before slightly moving her hand out of his.

His heart dropped once she did that, and the words began to flow out of his mouth. “I love you so much, please tell me you know that.” He waited a beat as she gently nodded, which he took as permission to continue. “I’m an ass. I said things that make me hate myself because you deserve so much more than that. I was scared. I'm always scared when it comes to you and this job, but something just snapped at that moment and I realized how much we risk for each other. You say you don't want to imagine losing me, well I can't imagine losing you. I am so in love with you and so please, I promise to not be an ass about it but I also need you to promise to be safe.”

They were both crying at that point. “I’m still upset about what you said.”

He nodded his head quickly, “which is expected and valid.”

“And you need to get over the team knowing.”

“Already done.”

She lifted an eyebrow and gave a slow nod. “And I need you to know that I love you too.” He laughed and pressed their lips together, only breaking away to catch their breaths. “Next time you offer yourself up as bait to an unsub,” she began, her voice just barely above a whisper, “please use the code word so that I don't have to hear you getting hurt.”

With their foreheads touching, he brushed their noses against each other. “How about one just for us? So we both know when to walk away.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Any word you want.”

Y/N took a moment before a small smile made its way on her face. “How about… kaleidoscope?”

“Kaleidoscope?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of you. Of love.”

Aaron smiles with her and slightly leans back in to fit their lips together. Love is a beauteous mess with every emotion reflecting off of those you love. Love is a kaleidoscope.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!

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hellcat8908 · 3 months

Text

Love Lost 2 Azriel x Reader

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, hurt, angst, violence

Make sure to read Love Lost first

You patiently wait for Eris in the foyer for him to finish his meeting. You admired stag tapestry that was hung on the wall. The beautiful colors of autumn on full display as the stag stood stoic in a still forest. Your attention was drawn away from the tapestry as Eris walked in to greet you. "I'm sorry for not giving advanced notice of my arrival." You apologize. "Don't worry about it, you know you're always welcome here. Sorry I wasn't able to greet you sooner." He says.

This was the Eris few people got to see. He had always been gentle and kind to you since you were kids. "Come on, I'll show you to your room so you can get settled." He offered his arm while he picked up your bag. You noticed the subtle changes made since Eris took over as high lord. He opened a door and escorted you inside, "This will be your room, as long as it's to your liking." He says, gauging your reaction. "Eris, it's perfect. Thank you!" You say as you explore the space.

"You have your own private bathroom through that door. And over there is a walk-in closet." He says as he gestures. "Thank you for everything." You say softly. "Anything for you, I just wish it was under better circumstances." He says before giving you a hug. You fall apart in his arms, the touch being too much to bear after being touched. He continues to hold you, "It's ok, I've got you. That's it. Let it all out." He comforts you.

Eventually, you cry yourself to sleep. Eris gently lays you in bed and tucks you in. He quietly leaves the room. He makes his way back to his office to finish up his work while you sleep. He contemplates reaching out to Rhys to see if he knows you left. He decides against it and leaves the decision to you to tell them of your whereabouts. After finishes various reports, he comes back to check on you.

Meanwhile, the wind grew colder against Azriel's wings as he neared Illyria. His first camp was coming up. He landed heavily in the center of camp, glaring at anyone who looked at him. He met with the one in charge, Garrick, and informed him of the changes Rhys wanted to make. After the two got done arguing, Azriel stepped out to watch some of them training. He watched silently and made a mental note to discuss with Cassian. After a pair had cleared out, Azriel entered the ring, "Anyone want to see how they really measure up?!" He shouts to the crowd.

One of the bigger warriors steps forward to accept the bait. They quickly start circling each other. The illyrian grows impatient and rushes Azriel. Azriel drops his shoulder and tosses the warrior over him and into the dirt. A couple of warriors watching laughed before the warrior got up and struck Azriel in the side. His eyes grew wide as Azriel snapped. He quickly takes the fool to the ground and beats him to a pulp. Finally, the soldier counters after his face is bloodied. He lands a few more strikes on Azriel before being dropped again.

Before the fight can last any longer, Azriel feels two sets of hands on him, pulling him back. "Enough!" Rhys says with authority before releasing him for Cassian to escort away. Rhys turns his attention to the camp and orders them to go back to their duties. Once the attention is off of him and his brothers, he moves to catch up. "You're done! Until further notice, you're relieved of your duties." Rhys tells Azriel. "Fuck you!" Azriel shouts before jerking out of Cassian's grip. "You need to focus on you and fix thing's with y/n." Rhys says calmly. "Don't tell me what I need to do! You're not the one dealing with this! You have no clue what this is like!" Azriel yells at his brother.

"Then tell me, talk to us. Talk to y/n! No one knows what you're going through like her because she's going through it too." Rhys says. "Stop, Rhys. I'm dealing with it the only way I know how to." Azriel says. In an instant, Rhys winnows all three of them to the house of wind. "You're going to stay here until you get your shit together." Rhys says. "If you're going to relieve me of my duties, at least let me stay in my own home!" Azriel demands. "No! The last thing y/n needs right now is you being an ass because you're pissed off at me! You can go home once you've proven you are more level-headed." Rhys says, leaving Cassian and Azriel alone.

"Come on, let's go." Cassian says. Walking towards the training area. "I'm not in the mood to train." Azriel says. "Good, we're not training. We're fighting. You need to let out some of that anger, and I can take it." Cassian says. Azriel follows him and readies himself. After a few moments, the two collide in a fury of punches and jabs. Cassian allows Azriel to land some strikes, wanting to help him purge his anger and emotions. "Come on, Az. You can do better than that, or maybe you can't anymore!" Cassian taunts, "is that really all you've got?!" Azriel hits harder and strikes faster.

His anger reached new heights. "Maybe y/n is better off without you. I mean, if you're just going to abandon her when she needs you most." Cassian continues to poke at Azriel. "Fuck you! You don't know anything about our situation!" Azriel shouts as his breath hitches. "Then tell me, tell me how it is. From where I'm standing things got hard and you checked out!" Cassian yells, shoving his brother.

"It's all my fault! I'm the selfish bastard! I'm the reason she suffered watching me with Elain for as long as she did! I'm the one that breaks her heart every time I walk out the door! And worst of all, I'm the reason we lost the baby!" He says, dropping to his knees. "What do you mean you're the reason you two lost the baby?" Cassian asks as he stands next to Azriel.

Next Part: 3

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar angst #eris acotar #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger

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muffinlance · 1 year

Note

Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.

Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes.

He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—

He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.

“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”

They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.

* * *

They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.

They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.

The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff.

His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.

“Thank you, father,” Iroh said.

Lu Ten held his silence.

* * *

Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.

She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.

There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne.

Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.

Third, because father was, too.

He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too.

She was nine.

* * *

Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.

Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—

If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.

He was eleven.

* * *

Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.

On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.

* * *

Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.

Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last.

Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.

* * *

“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames.

Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.

“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”

“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”

Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.

“We believe—”

“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”

Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.

“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”

‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all.

His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?”

The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly.

“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”

“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.

“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”

Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face.

“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Iroh closed his eyes.

“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”

The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.

“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”

* * *

Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—

And they’d shaved his hair.

* * *

It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.

They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.

* * *

They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.

Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.

She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.

It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.

* * *

Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.

The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value.

Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.

Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled.

Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder.

Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.

* * *

Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.

“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?”

“Uncle said—”

“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”

The dumb ones had already been executed.

“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”

“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”

They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited.

Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.

They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.

Zuko had to find the Avatar.

* * *

(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)

#are you not entertained?#eventually this one will be a Fire Lord Iroh AU #better hope he gets that throne quick <3 #Happy Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders just as Hakoda was setting sail #and Hakoda was unprepared for these feral fuzzy-headed children suddenly on his ship #Bad Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders when Zuko was sixteen and Azula was fourteen #after four years with Zhao #Zuko: *shakes Aang until he glows then yeets him at Zhao like a grenade*#Azula: that's a good first step to being my favorite brother #but I still don't have a crown in my hair Zuzu #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Azula #Iroh #I actually really like Iroh's new wife?#RIP one-off OC I'll probably never use again #you are the politically climbing aro-ace rep we deserve #New Wife: sure I'll exchange my firstborn for ultimate power in my nation #wait I can keep the kid too?#sweet deal #ficlet #Cuckoo-Vipers

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mochie85 · 1 year

Text

Poker Face

These Wicked Games Collection | Complete Masterlist

Summary: Will you win a game of strip poker against the god of mischief? A/N: A special cameo of my dear friend. Word Count: 1.7K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Explicit. No details of smut, but heavily implied. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Loki looked around the table trying to stifle his smirk from giving him away. He had a great hand – a winning hand. All he needed to do now was bait you in and he would win.

Rogers and Barnes had shown him how to play Texas Hold’em. They needed a third player as their usual playing mates were out on a mission. Things got more interesting when the women decided to join and turned it into ‘strip poker.’

Loki kept his cards face down on the velvet green table and placed his hands behind his head waiting for everyone else.

You knew that look. That pompous I-have-a-trick-up-my-sleeve look. You knew all his looks. His tired look. His hungry look. His annoyed look. Right now, he thinks he’s going to win. You watched him stretch, his shirt untucking, riding up to give you a peek at what you could be winning tonight.

Nearly everyone was on their last piece of clothing. Steve and Bucky were now in their boxers, having negotiated that each sock was one piece of clothing. Nat was in a white undershirt that barely hid the dark pink dusting of her nipples underneath.

Vision wasn’t allowed to play because he would count cards and calculate the odds in his head. Instead, he opted to hold Andrea, the new computer engineer Tony hired, in his lap as she happily lost each round. One by one, a piece of her clothing came off and Vision had to hide her body strategically, making you think she was losing on purpose.

You and Loki were the only ones who were fully clothed. You kept your head low and played safe up until now, letting the others lose their bets and hands. Your father would be damn proud of you.

“Geez, Loki. You have a horrible tell. I know you’ve got a winning hand,” Natasha said as she took a gulp of her beer. “I fold.”

“Ya, work on that poker face, buddy,” Bucky groaned. “I fold. I’m not losing my boxers.”

“I fold too,” Steve said.

“I can’t fold,” Drea said, smiling.

“That’s because you have nothing left, darling.” Vision said as his grip on her tightened.

“Well, my dear, that just leaves you and me,” Loki said in a smoldering voice. If you didn’t lose this hand, you would’ve taken off your clothes anyway just by the way he looked at you. His deep voice caressed you from across the table, making you squeeze your legs tighter together. “What do you say we up the ante? Last play for all your clothes.”

“Don’t you mean all your clothes, Laufeyson? You forget that I have a Las Vegas past.” You fired back, as resounding ‘oohs’ and heckles came from everyone else.

“All right. Bet.” He smiled.

“If I win, you take off all your clothes, Laufeyson. Including the next time we play poker, whether it’s strip poker or not. You will play naked - as the day you were born. No matter who else is playing.” You arrogantly raised your chin, calling out his bluff. His smile grew wide, reaching from ear to ear.

“And If I win, dear pet, not only will you strip down, but then I want you to walk your pretty little arse down the hall to my room and we can continue our own little game.” Gasps and jeers were heard all around the table as Loki finally admitted to some semblance of an attraction towards you. How genuine that attraction was, or how deep those feelings went, was still a mystery.

“Now hold on just a minute, Loki,” Steve said being protective of you.

“No, no. It’s ok, Steve. I accept.” You steeled your nerves and looked into Loki’s swirling eyes. Your body shook visibly, feeling his stare reach past your clothes and stroke your waiting skin underneath.

You looked down at the table where four cards were laid out. They were clubs, a 10, a 9, and an 8. Then there was the queen of diamonds. You had a King and a Jack of clubs. You already had a great hand with a flush, matching the suit to all five cards. But if that last card turned out to be a 7 or a Queen of clubs, you’d win with a straight flush.

But what did Loki have? Would his hand be better than yours? Would that last card help you or condemn you?

“Are you both ready?” Nat asked, burning a card and readying to turn the last card down onto the river. You looked into his eyes, deep and promising as you both nodded. Nat turned the card over and placed it on the table.

It was the queen of clubs.

You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Loki’s eyes turned deadly as he turned his hand face up. An 8 of spades and the queen of hearts. “I believe that I have a full house,” he prodded, misinterpreting your sigh as a sign of defeat. Everyone’s mouth hung open in shock at his assertion.

He leaned back onto his chair and placed his hands behind his head. A proud grin on his face. “Go on love, show everybody what I’ll be playing with later.”

His comment bristled your edges. He was so arrogant. So cocky. You’re going to relish taking him down a notch. Everyone silently watched with shock and awe as you stood up with your poker face still on.

Loki’s eyes changed into pools of desire as you decided to play with his emotions a little bit more. You traced the hem of your shirt, pinching it and scrunching it up in your fist.

His greedy eyes followed the movements of your hands as you reached for your cards and turned them face up. “A king and a jack of clubs. A straight flush. Which beats your full house.” The last part of your sentence was drowned out by the screams and yells of everyone at the table.

Surprised by the turn of events, Steve, Bucky, and Vision couldn’t stop laughing. Drea and Nat just sat there and whistled as they leered at Loki to start taking his clothes off.

Loki’s eyes were full and round- devastated that he had lost. He looked up at you, at your gorgeous playful face. That angelic smile that had him enraptured from the moment he laid his eyes on you, caught his breath. He was stunned.

It wasn’t until Bucky jostled him out of his reverie that he took a lungful of air. “You gotta do it now, man,” Bucky said, laughing at him.

Loki’s smile grew wicked as he stood up and looked straight into your eyes. “My pleasure,” he ground out, making your skin flush at his promise.

He wouldn’t stop staring at you. Not when he pulled his scarf down one side and threw it in your direction. Not when he started to unbutton his shirt, painfully slow. His grin growing wider with every button. You watched as his hands trailed down onto his belt and the sharp clank of metal resounded in your ears.

“Should we leave? I feel like I’m watching something intimate,” Steve whispered to Vision and Drea.

“You can leave if you want to. I’m getting my free show,” Nat said finishing her beer.

Loki had all but taken off his shirt, socks, and shoes. All that was left were his pants. His thumbs hooked into them, watching your reaction as he pushed them down revealing all his godly glory.

A resounding “OHH!” could be heard from everyone else as Loki stood there in front of you naked. His sculpted body was on display as your eyes took in all the details that they could remember. His wide shoulders, his defined abs, and the ‘V’ of his Adonis Belt leading your stare to his semi-erect cock.

“Do you like what you see, pet? Anything I can offer you later?” He asked with a proud smile.

“All right. All right. Put your clothes back on. I think we should all call it a night. I’m done,” Steve said.

“Awe boo, Cap.” Nat leered, getting up and gathering her clothes. Bucky laughed and followed her into the bar as he struggled to get his jeans back on.

Loki flicked his hands. In a flash, all his clothes were back on and put into place, immaculately.

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” you asked, still watching him.

“Because I wanted to give you a show,” he winked, and he strode off down the hallway towards his bedroom.

Not long after, the compound had gotten dark and silent. The remnants of the game you all had played earlier are gone. The table was dismantled, and the cards were put away.

Your soft feet patted down the hallway and stopped in front of Loki’s door. You raised your hand to knock, but the door slightly opened to reveal a sliver of yellow light coming through. You pushed the door open, taking that as an invitation to go in.

Loki was sitting in front of his fireplace, a book in hand that he thumped shut as he took you in shutting his door behind you.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you grace my bedroom?”

“You reneged on our deal.” You said confidently. Loki looked confused as he ran by the terms of the bet earlier.

“I don’t think so, darling. The bet was, that if I lost, I would be the one to strip down naked. And I did.”

“What was the next part, Loki?” you whispered. His name on your lips sent a shiver down his spine, making him visibly tremble. You held his name on your tongue. Your breath invoking it like a prayer.

“The next caveat was that the next game of poker I played, no matter who I was with, I would have to play stripped as well.” He recited as a gleam in his eyes sparkled at your mischief. You took out a deck of cards from your back pocket and proceeded to shuffle them in your hand.

“Care for a game of poker, my prince?”

He bit his lips at your words. “With pleasure,” he smiled as he got up to unbutton his shirt.

⬅️ These Wicked Games Collection | Chapter 2: The Chase ➡️

@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @glitterylokislut @goldencherriess @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kikster606 @kkdvkyya @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @lokyxryss @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration @thomase1 @user13cabs @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

#writing ideas #fic prompt #loki fanfic #loki fluff #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki x you #loki oneshot #loki x reader #answering asks #lovely asks #marvel fanfic #loki series #strip poker #loki smut

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astyrial · 2 months

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breathtaking views bradley bradshaw x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: a surfer catches bradley's eye word count: 709 warnings: none masterlist | requests are open

large waves roll onto the sands of windansea beach. small crabs bury themselves between the grains as sand dollars find their way onto the beach. a few surfers take advantage of the early morning waves, hoping to ignore the tourists starting to enter the beach. among the crowd emerges a few navy officers who bring along a mean game of football.

bradley is the first look out at the surfers, holding the football between his hands, "you guys ever gone surfing?"

"well, i've taken a lesson or two, mostly because of the instructor..." payback walks up to him, bumping bradley's shoulder with his, a cocky smile stuck on his face.

he shakes his head, eyes narrowing as he spots a certain surfer. you stand confidently on your board, knees bent to keep you stabilized on the board. your wetsuit ends right before your knees and the top portion garners short sleeves. beads of water flies through the air as you twist your board not more than twenty-five percent. you gaining some momentum as you push through the wave

bradley holds back a smile as he watches you jump off of your board, letting the water engulf you. "rooster, you thinking of trying or are we going to get this game going?"

he raises his eyebrows, looking back at payback, nodding. "yeah, i was just giving you time to back out because you guys don't stand a chance," bradley tosses the football back to payback and walks over to bob and phoenix, eyes taking a small peek in your direction.

once again, you're paddling up towards a large wave, body nearly propping up to fight it. he spends the whole game distracted and unable to pull his eyes from where you're surfing. phoenix pulls bob and bradley into a huddle, her eyes forced on bradley.

"i get it, we're on a beach, pretty women. but do you think you could get us one win rooster? considering a few hundred push ups are on the line," phoenix tilts her head. nostrils flaring with her annoyance.

bradley sighs, nodding. there's something so intriguing about you, the way you work with the water to achieve run after run. he looks between bob and phoenix and then over at their very capable opponents, "actually, phoenix, you think you could stay on fanboy's side? he's usually eager to get that front runner spot, we could take advantage..."

luckily for bradley and his wandering eyes, fanboy takes the bait. both him and hangman attempt to rush rooster at the beginning of the play, giving him an opportunity to throw it straight to phoenix. the ball flies through the air until phoenix catches it, leaving her little room between her and the end zone (drawn out with a stick). however, as she's mere steps away, she can see playboy rushing towards her.

in a moment of adrenaline and excitement, she throws it to bob. he reaches for the ball and nearby drops it before rushing to the end zone and happily throwing the ball to the ground.

"touchdown!" rooster shouts out, pushing past his opponents to grab bob, hoisting him into the air.

the three of them hand off high fives, congratulating bob on his first beach touchdown. just as he bradley finally gets his heart to slow down a little, he spots you exiting the water with your board under your right arm. you bring your other hand over and holds the top of the board, water dripping from your arms and board.

when you look up from the sand below you, you meet bradley's gaze. he has a small smile lining his lips, almost hidden by his mustache. you send one back in his direction, unable to keep your eyes away from his. bradley turns back to his teammates, mind still straying back to you. he wants to walk over to you, strike up a conversation, but when he looks back, you're nearly gone.

down by a shop, your board is resting against a wooden stand. you standing in a line with a drawstring bag on your back. for a second, he wonders if he should still take a chance, ask for your number. however, hangman is already nagging him to continue the game.

#rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"So," Robin says after they clink their molotov cocktails together, "do we also get to talk about the whole cousin situation now?"

Steve looks across the field, where Eddie and Dustin are defending themselves from invisible enemies. Gareth and Lucas are swinging the finished spears at each other while Erica shakes her head at them, working on a third. It looks like Nancy is showing Max the proper way to hold a shotgun, which isn't nearly as bizarre as it probably should be.

"What's there to talk about?"

"Are you doing okay?" Robin asks.

Steve doesn't mean to making a scoffing noise. It just leaves his body involuntarily. "No. But I'm not the only one not doing okay. Now that we know Vecna doesn't have to do the whole weeklong build up to murder town, that he could get any of us, as any time and he's just being a sadistic bastard-"

"Steve. He'll take the bait. If nothing else, we have to believe that."

Steve looks from Max to Gareth, then back to Robin. "Yeah. Right."

Robin is quiet for a moment, before her eyes flick away and back to him again. "Do you want to talk to Gareth? He was... God, Steve, it was awful, hearing him scream for you. While Vecna was... Anyway, I know you two are like avoiding each other for whatever reason, but I think you can let go of whatever it was."

"I just wanted to keep them safe, Robbie," Steve swallows down the sob that wants to break free. "I never wanted them involved in this. I was so scared that I'd somehow infect them with the Upside Down that I just kept them away and it took Chrissy anyway. It-it-"

"It hasn't taken Gareth, though," Robin says softly, cutting Steve's spiral off. "It hasn't taken him. But he needs you. I think you need him, too. You should talk. Before we drop him at the Creel house. Because."

She doesn't finish, but that's fine. Steve knows what she's saying. They could die today. Any one of them. Chrissy died without Steve making it right. He'd started to work on hanging out with Chrissy again, but it was all surface level. He didn't even apologize. With Gareth he could justify, however shitty that was to do, that he was staying away because Gareth asked him to.

Chrissy hadn't asked for Steve to step out of her life. He'd done that himself in '83.

He can't do right by Chrissy anymore, but he can try with Gareth.

He stands and Robin gives his knee two solid pats before he walks away.

"Dustin, you piss off Steve somehow?" Eddie asks.

Gareth, in the middle of facing off with Lucas, pauses to look around, which gains him a light tap to his side by Lucas' spear. Sure enough, Steve is stalking their direction with a grim determination on his face.

"What, why am I the one getting the blame?" Dustin says, offended.

"It is usually you," Lucas adds, which earns him a squawk of indignation from Dustin, who shoots back, "he could be coming to lecture you for making Erica do all the spear making!"

Steve doesn't approach either boy, though.

"Hey, can we talk?" Steve asks once he comes to a stop in front of him.

"Got some end of the world regrets, Harrington?" Gareth says, trying to keep his voice lighter than he feels. He wants to tease Steve, not bully him.

He must succeed because Steve gives a chuckle and says, "I don't think we have time for all the end of the world regrets, so, uhh, just the one for now."

"We're cool, dude," Gareth says, eyes flicking from Steve to Eddie. The kids know, Gareth told them himself, but Eddie doesn't. "I started it."

"Yeah, but I graduated and still pretended you didn't exist. Which isn't what you asked for."

Gareth shrugs, because he doesn't know everything but he knows enough. Learned this isn't anyone else's (besides Eddie and his) first rodeo or whatever. That there have been other times, dating back to the year Will Byers was lost for a week. "Dude. Seriously. We're cool. You've been dealing with... whatever the fuck this is. So, just, like promise to be around more once we all survive this."

Steve looks pained but before he can reply, Eddie cuts in, "I'm sorry. How do you know each other?"

Gareth looks to Steve, who just shrugs as if to say your friend, you responsibility and honestly? Fuck Steve Harrington. Keeps traumatizing secrets and pushes Gareth away and also throws him to the wolves. Except, this is the secret Gareth has been keeping from Eddie. He sighs and turns to Eddie. "Well, uh, Steve's my cousin. We used to be super close before I started high school. Actually, Steve here is the reason I joined Hellfire!"

Eddie seems to go through all 7 stages of grief before settling into a confused. "I'm sorry. Steve talked you into joining Hellfire?"

"That is not what I did!" Steve defends himself.

"God no. He just went into great detail about how loud and obnoxious and attention-grabbing the current president was, as if that would make me want to not meet you for some reason."

"It was a warning!" Steve yelps at the same time Eddie sing-songs, "You think I'm attention-grabbing, Harrington?"

Dustin, Lucas, and Erica are all laughing at Steve has he tries to sputter through what he meant by attention-grabbing ("It's hard to not pay attention when he's shouting from the top of a lunch table!"), and Gareth just watches on, amused.

After they fight an... evil wizard? Vecna or whatever his name is. Once this is over, Gareth is going to sit Steve down and make him tell him everything, but that can wait.

He wants to watch Steve flounder trying to defend himself from the accusations of watching Eddie just a bit too much back in high school.

Later, as they all pack up and load up in the RV, Nancy stops Steve from entering the RV, ushering everyone past until Gareth and Steve are the only ones left outside.

"Are we acknowledging that you're cousins, now?" she asks.

"You knew!?" Steve sounds surprised. Gareth's surprised, too.

Nancy just rolls her eyes. "Steve, I've been to your house." When that just makes Steve look confused, she rolls her eyes and says, "there are family pictures covering almost every inch of your living room."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Robin pipes in, appearing in the doorway with an angry expression.

"It wasn't really my thing to talk about, was it?"

"Yeah, but did you even check in with Steve? If you knew, and knew what happened to Chrissy- you didn't even ask if he wanted to go to the funeral!"

"Robin!" Steve hisses.

Nancy doesn't look upset by whatever accusation Robin seems to be trying to make. "If Steve wanted to go, he could have said something. We aren't his keepers. But, also," her gaze goes from Robin to Steve, "I didn't want to pry or seem pushy. I figured you'd tell us when you were ready."

Robin frowns but doesn't say anything else, disappearing back into the RV. Gareth gestures for Steve and Nancy to go first, and then he's closing and locking the door behind him before heading to sit by Eddie along the back bench seat. A bunch of shit has been piled there, so Gareth shoves it off the seat and to the floor. The pile of things ends up being a hazard and he almost brains himself while turning to sit down; something under his foot slides and Eddie saves him, yanking him to fall onto Eddie. After some fussing and laughter from those around, Gareth gets seated and looks down to see what almost killed him.

It's a phone book.

Eddie leans in close once they're back on the road to town to whisper, "so, you just let me go on all those rants about King Steve and never once thought to tell me you were related?"

Gareth just gives him his best impression of a King Steve smirk and says, "I would have hate to have deterred you from talking about your favorite school subject."

It's worth seeing the scandalized look on Eddie's face, even as the man socks him in the leg for the comment. "I hate you, man."

Gareth rubs his leg and says, "you don't mean that."

There's a long silence from Eddie after that before he says, "you're right. I don't mean that. And. Uh. In case I don't- in case it goes south down there but ends up fine up here, I just-"

"No," Gareth growls. "Fuck you, Eddie. We're going to be fine. All you gotta do is shred on your guitar and get the hell out. You're going to be fine."

"You didn't see the bats."

"Eddie."

"Fine. It's gonna be fine," Eddie agrees and falls silent.

Gareth frowns at that. Eddie must really be worried, to not argue back like he usually does. Gareth's worried, too, but what can he do?

He thinks about his mom. When did he last tell her he loves her? If they don't succeed tonight, will he get a chance to say it again? Will anyone get a chance to say it again?

Gareth looks down at the phone book at his feet.

"Wait, does anyone have change for a payphone?" Gareth asks from somewhere behind him. Steve turns in his seat to look into the back of the RV.

"Uh, yeah," Robin digs into her pockets, but then narrows her eyes at Gareth and asks, "wait. Who are you calling?"

"I have to let my mom know I'm alive. Just... hear my voice," Gareth says. "She needs to know I'm okay. It's already been too long since last we talked and... after Chrissy she was..."

Robin's face drops into the guiltiest look Steve's ever seen on her face and she produces her wallet, dropping the whole thing into Gareth's open hand. "Yeah, no. Sorry. There's still plenty of time for a phone call before the end of the world. You better return my wallet, Cunningham."

"I'm not going to rob you, Buckley," Gareth says before ducking out the RV with Max, Lucas, and Erica.

Steve tries not to let the guilt well up in him as they drive away. Gareth had wanted to come with Team Kill Vecna but Steve had quickly argued against that. He wasn't going to let Gareth anywhere near the Upside Down.

So it was decided. Max, Lucas, Erica, and Gareth at the Creel house, Dustin and Eddie on distraction, and Nancy, Robin, and Steve were going to face down Vecna.

There was still hours to go before they'd try, with a time set for 9:20ish, since that's the time Vecna's been enacting his curse according to Eddie's broken watch. Plenty of time to fortify Eddie's house in the Upside Down, plus the almost 40 minute walk to the Creel house from Forest Hills.

This was going to work. It had to.

Max and Lucas opt for hiding around the back of the house, waiting for time to pass until it's closer to dark, and Erica said she was going to snoop around the abandoned playground, so Gareth decided to head to the payphone a couple of blocks down the street.

He makes it halfway there before Erica scares the shit out of him by saying, "why do you need a phone book?"

Gareth yelps and spins, stupidly trying to hid the book behind his back even though he knows she already saw it. "I- uh, no. No reason."

Erica eyes him and he's suddenly very aware of whatever Eddie saw in her that night at Hellfire, that let her join the club. She's pretty scary for a middle schooler. "Do I look stupid? Who are you calling." It's not a question. It's a demand.

"I'm going to try and get a hold of Eddie's uncle," Gareth answers, trying to sound like an authority figure. "Tell him he'll find Eddie at his home at eight tonight. I know you all are so used to not telling people but this is- we need a real adult and Wayne's an army vet. He'll know how to help. He'll want to help."

She purses her lips, stays quiet for a moment before she nods. "I'm usually surrounded by stupid people, but you're kind of not one. I've got more change if you need it."

Gareth calls the plant and asks to speak to Wayne Munson. It's a bit of back and forth before the secretary agrees, but only if Wayne agrees to speak to a Gareth Cunningham. The plant must be getting calls from angry locals.

"Are ya really Gareth, or are ya just wantin' ta yell at me for helpin' raise the devil incarnate?" Wayne sounds tired and Gareth feels bad for him.

"Eddie would love for you to call him that to his face when you see him again."

"Thank God, son," Wayne sounds relieved. He must recognize Gareth's voice. "Ya okay? No one's harrassin' ya, are they?"

"No. Listen Wayne, I'm going to say something crazy but please just listen and do your best to be casual. I know where Eddie is. Or, where he will be at eight tonight. He's.... not physically hurt but he's going to need you. He might hate me for telling you this but I had to."

There is a pause where all he hears through the phone is a long inhale followed by a slow exhale. "Mmm hmm. I appreciate yer concern and glad ta hear no one's botherin' ya just for knowin' Eddie."

Gareth is only confused for a moment before he realizes Wayne is trying to make this conversation sound routine from his end. "Just. He's going home. But please don't show up until after eight. If you... if you beat him home he might run. Try to keep you out of this, y'know?" Gareth is just lying now, but he's a teenage boy in a garage band that plays in a dingy bar at the edge of town. That is to say, he knows how to lie off the cuff.

"I read ya loud and clear. I'll let ya know as soon as Eddie's been found safe so ya can quit worryin'. I gotta get back to it, but thanks for reachin' out."

Gareth hangs up and looks to Erica. "Well. Let's hope I haven't ruined everything."

"Let's hope that you know Wayne as well as you think you do."

#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #my fic #everyone is like “wE cAnT tElL aNyOnE wHaT wE aRe DoInG” and gareth is like “i think u are all stupid and also i havent signed an nda and #i know what my best friend looks like when he needs support and since yall wont let ME go with to kill vecna for revenge for chrissy #(thanks no thanks STEVE) im going to sick eddie's uncle on you" and i think that's very smart of him #gareth has zero issues asking for help when he thinks everyone he loves could DIE

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asumofwords · 8 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, grief, sadness, suicidal thoughts.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh boy, get the tissues ready. Mummy and daddy have returned to the Red Keep for their baby, and honestly? I think we have all been waiting for this reunion. Not long now till we finish this holy smokes! Enjoy <3

Chapter 106: The Rightful Heir

The room rushed around you as you stared at your parents.

How long had it been?

How long had it been since you last saw them?

Held them?

Rhaenyra’s eyes were filled with tears as she ran swiftly across the chambers towards you, her steps faltering as she saw you did not stand to meet her.

Buttoned high across her neck were her riding leathers, but across her chest was cuirass of a black armour, the insignia of your House raised at the front of it. Her long hair was braided and pulled back and away from her face, golden crown nestled amongst the silver strands.

She was dressed for battle.

They both were.

Daemon donned riding leather and armour alike. His hair was messed, braided back and half down, pressed against his scalp likely from the weight of his helmet, which was nowhere to be seen; tossed to the ground as he ran through the Keep with your mother in search of you.

Each pauldron was crafted to look as though they were dragon wings, curling down over the length of his shoulders and upper arms. Each rerebrace and and vambrace slotted over each other down his arms like dragon scales. The same for his chest piece and faulds, perfectly made to look like the belly scales of Caraxes, dripping down his body sharply, meanly.

A new set of armour you had not seen before, made for this moment.

“Y/n?” Rhaenyra whispered, almost in disbelief, head tilted as she looked at you.

But your fathers reaction was different.

He walked slowly, as though assessing a risk in the room, as though he was waiting for some unseen danger to reveal itself. As if you were being used as bait to lure the two of them out.

But it wasn't just his careful scouting of the chambers in search of his nephew, his eyes told another story. A story which entailed just how shocked he was to see you, in the way that you were, blood covered and crown atop your head. Your fathers mind not quite catching up to the image before him.

Daemon's eyes cast over Larys Strong’s body, jaw tensing, but then a small smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

It reminded you so much of Aemond.

And yet you did not move towards them. You sat and watched as your parents looked up at you from the bottom of the Iron Throne. Questions on the tips of their tongues, barely held resolve vibrating in their bodies.

It was clear they wished to come to you, run to you and hold you, but they didn't, and all because you didn't take the first steps.

Your heart ached in your chest. You wished they could feel it. Feel how much you wished to run to them, to leap into their arms and feel their hands and lips against your cheeks and head. To smell their scents around you, and hold them to you finally, in ways that you had longed to for months on end.

But you could not move, like you had grown to the throne, flesh and bones curling around each pommel and blade that your weight sat heavily on. Unable to lift yourself from it as you leant back, gut churning with anxiety. But what was more, an unavoidable rage and anger prevented you.

Prevented you from giving up something you had given so much for.

The war.

The losses.

Aemond.

You breathed deeply.

“I’ve had some time to think.” You licked your lips, the skin dry and cracked as you spoke down to them, Rhaenyra’s posture stiffening, and Daemon’s eyes roaming your body rapidly, finally landing at the bloodied crown that sat atop your head.

"About what I have done." You continued, voice becoming louder, firmer, more authoritative, "What I have endured to sit here. What I have had to do to sit here. And the more I sit, the more I think; Why?”

Rhaenyra shifted on her spot, brows furrowed in concern as she looked over you, trying to assess if any of the blood that was drying upon your skin was yours, “Why what, my sweet?”

Your lungs expanded as you sucked in a deep breath, the sound of guards and men outside yelling, no doubt Rhaenyra and Daemon’s, claiming the Red Keep and Kings Landing.

But it was the bitterness of disdain that settled heavily upon your tongue, the anger that you would have to live forever more with your choices, the denial of it creeping across your skin.

In that moment, in those months you had been locked away, kept away, trapped, it was hard to not feel anger. To not feel hate. Or pain. Or anguish. To not feel righteous and justifiable disdain at all who did not suffer the way you had.

And so you channeled that rage, and you let it pour from you like a steady stream of fire.

“Why should I give the throne to you?” Your voice sounded foreign as it passed your lips. The presence of a silver haired man in your periphery as you spoke caused you to inhale sharply, blinking to try and get him out of your sight, “Why should you sit here, on a throne I have earnt with my blood? Why should you sit here, after all I have done to ensure it. After all I have lost. After all I have sacrificed.”

“Tala," Daughter, Daemon's voice rose, confusion, concern, and sorrow in his voice, "Skoros ēza-“ What has-, But your voice raised higher, angry and resentful as you interrupted him, Rhaenyra flinching at his side.

“-I have earnt this, more than you." You sneered down at them, "I have been raped and defiled for this throne." You watched their faces crumpled, "I have been beaten and mocked, before the court... The realm, to laugh at, to jest. Trapped and kept from my family in this vipers nest for a year! I have lost a child, and gained another to survive. To win this throne for you.” Your heart beat rapidly against your chest as blood rushed in your ears.

Rhaenyra’s face crumpled further, the softness of her eyebrows pulled down, and the violet of her eyes seemingly sparkling as tears gathered in the corners.

Even in her sorrows, she was beautiful.

Daemon however, looked enraged.

“But what have you done for me?” Your voice cracked, “You left me here.” You took a shuddering breath, watching as Rhaenyra shook her head in denial, chest rising and falling brokenly.

But then your voice hardened, lips twitching as you held back a sneer, "You made Jacaerys your successor, and me your Hand." You scoffed, "I have lost a dragon and gained another. I have been plucked from the sky and lived. The small folk say we are closer to Gods than man, but I must be a God if I am standing here today. If I sit where I sit. If I have survived what I have endured.”

Rhaenyra’s guards flooded the chambers, ensuring the safety of their Queen and King, eyes all cast up to you, their daughter, who sat upon the Iron Throne, Conquerors Crown atop her head.

Your knuckles gripped the arms of the throne tightly, blade of your dagger scrapping loudly against one of the swords as you leant forward, “It is I the eldest daughter, the Merciless Queen, who should sit this throne. I have earnt it. It is mine by right.”

Queen Rhaenyra’s brow hardened, and her lips pulled down as you spoke, though a traitorous tear escaped her eye, sliding down her face. Daemon shifted beside her, looking up at you through his white lashes, his jaw ticking and hands at his side flexing.

“So you are to depose me of the throne? Like my brother? Your own mother?” Her voice cut across the chambers.

Your nostrils flared, trying to push the tide that surged within you. But it built, just as it always did, rising and climbing inside of you, dragging you down into its cold and murky depths, suffocating you in its clutches.

It was sorrow.

Loss.

Grief.

You licked your lips again, voice crackling in the back of your throat as you felt your own tears prick at your eyes, "The thought of sitting here, despite me earning it with my own hands, is agonising, muña." Mother, You clutched a hand against your chest, wringing the bloodied chemise in your fist, and watched as Rhaenyra's head tilted to the side sadly.

"It fills me with sorrow, knowing that sitting here would mean to depose you. That it would be another usurpation of the Iron Throne. Another of my own mother, who I love dearly. Who I have suffered for months for. And my father. Kepa.” Father, Your lips shook as you spoke, a small sob falling from them as you said kepa.

A tear tracked down your cheek, “It tears my heart in two to even think of such a thing, the pain more mighty than what has been done to it these past moons.” You shook your head, clenching the arm of the throne, a sharp sting running up your fingertips, the blades of the slicing at the flesh that gripped them tightly, knuckles white.

“I did this all for you, muña. I stayed for you. Because I love you, because it is your birthright. Because it was my duty. So much so, that I have committed the most egregious of sins. I have done something that can never be undone." A loud sob filled the chambers, "I will never be whole again.”

It was quiet.

So very quiet in the throne chambers as you mother and father looked at you with tear filled eyes, wet tracks sliding down Rhaenyra's face. But they waited, they waited for you to continue, as they always have done, knowing that you had not had a chance to be open with them for so long, opening the door for you to speak your truth, which had been taken from you since the very moment you had arrived to the Red Keep.

Your chest ached, pain spreading across your body, and up your throat.

Was this how Aemond felt? When you betrayed him?

When you pierced his throat with the blade he had given you?

Was this how it felt when he looked up at you as he died?

That lump settled in the back of your throat once again as you desperately tried to swallow it.

“Iksan ēdrugī." I am tired, "I am weary, muña. Eman issare pryjatan, kepa." I have been broken, father. "And yet I sit on this throne, babe in my stomach; the son of the One-Eyed King." Rhaenyra's eyes widened, "A man I loved. A man I killed. And all for you. I pierced his throat with mine own dagger in our bed; a dagger he gifted me, to keep me safe from Aegon. And what did I do?” Another tear slid past your cheek.

"I betrayed him." You sneered, anger at yourself rising.

Daemon lifted a foot and set it on the first step below the throne, his hand holding Rhaenyra’s tightly for grounding. The both of them wishing to run to you, to hold you, to feel you with their hands and make sure you were real, and not an illusion.

But the chill was back. And Aemond's presence in your periphery became harder, and harder to ignore.

You wished it was anyone but him.

Lucerys, Helaena, even Larys.

But it was him.

And he was there.

Watching.

“If I give you this throne, what do I get?” Your tone became icy, emotionless and cold, the warmth having bled from the tip of your tongue as you tapped it at the back of your teeth, “What is my payment for months of rape and torture. Of Aegon! Of Aemond."

The anger was back, bursting through you like wildfire, uncontrollable and ungraspable. You couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the heat that continued to rise inside of you.

“Will you banish me to Dragonstone, never to be seen again? Will you strip me of my titles once more, and give them to Jacaerys? Will my actions have no reward? No recognition? Will you turncloak against your own daughter?”

Daemon’s eyes opened in horror before narrowing into slits, angry, remorseful, bereft, “Why didn’t you tell us?! I would have burnt the kingdom to the ground! We would have come for you!

“And then where would we be?!” You cried back, “Still crownless, with a broken daughter and a war once again. You have sat at Dragonstone growing fat from my achievements, none the wiser to my suffering as I have lost myself and my senses for this throne. So tell me, what do I get?”

You saw Aemond's body shift, directing his eye to your parents.

Watching.

Waiting.

Supporting.

A tear slid down Rhaenyra’s porcelain cheek, “Why did you let yourself suffer so? My sweet girl." She said sorrowfully, and a tear slid down your cheek, "What horrors have you been subjected to that you have not yet told us?" Her hand tensed in your fathers grip, and you watched as his thumb brushed over her skin to soothe her, to calm her. But you knew it was more for himself.

"Why did not call for us sooner?" She sobbed, and another piece of your heart broke, "We would have come to get you. What of the people we had here for you? The maids? The Maester? I would have died for you to come home. To come back to us.” Her voice crackled and broke at the end, her pale hand spread against the sigil of her breastplate, fingers digging into the cold metal.

You leant back in the throne and shut your eyes sadly, not being able to bear the sight of your parents looking so broken, so horrified, so remorseful for something they had no control over.

You had made your decision to stay.

Not them.

You breathed in, and your voice came out quieter this time, softer, the fire simmering in the background, “I sat in these walls and dreamt of you coming to save me. But you never did. And you couldn’t have. Because it would have been for naught. All my suffering, my blood spilt, it would have been for naught if I had sent that raven to you earlier." You opened your eyes to look down at them.

Daemon and Rhaenyra had crept up three steps more, as your eyes had been shut, desperate to get close to you. Desperate to hold you.

You continued, "And I had tried once. I wrote a letter, but quickly dashed that hope into the flames of the hearth and watched them burn away. I stayed because I knew it was my duty to do so.”

Duty.

All of it was for duty.

All of this had been for duty.

And what had duty done for you?

Nothing but losses.

You straightened yourself in your seat, tapping your dagger against the metal arm in thought, “I have conquered this throne by right, not just one King, but two. I did that, and alone no less. No one else. Me.” You raised your head high. “Aemond slayed Aegon for me. And I have slayed Aemond for you.”

The flames were back, and they licked at your face hotly.

“What could we possibly give you that could take this pain away?” Rhaenyra breathed, unsure of what to do, what to say, whilst Daemon stared at you the way you had stared at Aemond's corpse; with nothing but grief.

“What could we have possibly done without knowing the truth of what has happened here? I never wanted this for you, you forced my hand! I would have never let you come here if I had known you would suffer so." She all but cried.

You laughed humourlessly, “I am a fools Queen. A Queen, muña. The Broken Queen. The Queen Maker... And a Queen for a Day.”

Rhaenyra Targaryens face morphed into one of confusion before settling on shock, half blinking as another tear slid down her cheek. Daemon took another step towards you, but was held back by his wife, who’s arm was stretched out, keeping him from ascending any more stairs to you.

There was that anger again.

Anger that was not justifiably directed at them, and you knew it. You knew it to your core. But it still ate away at you, tearing at your flesh, and resolve, and strength, piece by piece. Sharp claws lashing at your heart with every word spoken.

They had been none the wiser to what had happened here, perhaps small whispers from the maids and Maester, but you had promised you would call for them, summon them with two little words if it became too much, if it became too violent, if it became the horrors that not even yourself could quite conceive just yet, but you hadn't. And it did not erase the hurt. It did not erase the pain.

And you were punishing yourself.

Keeping yourself from them. Hurting them. Lashing out at them, trying to be the worst version of yourself so that you could justify what you had just done in the mere early hours of the morning, before the sun had even risen.

Trying to justify that you were a worse monster than he had been. Trying to convince yourself that you deserved it. That you deserved the pain. The abandonment. The grief.

Because you betrayed him.

In his softest of moments, in his most honest of moments, in his most vulnerable of ones, you had betrayed him.

And how could you ever forgive yourself for that?

How could they ever forgive you for that if they knew the truth of it?

And they would.

They would know the whole truth of it.

And they would come to fear you, be horrified by their daughter, you were sure of it.

It nagged at the back of your head, like the scratching of Lucerys' whispers that had haunted you for months on end. A darkness in the back of your mind that you knew was yourself, a part of yourself you could never escape. A part of yourself that had always been there, that had been fed by the violence you had endured, and doubled in size in the violence you had committed.

It was there.

Just like it was there in him.

Always there.

To burn together.

Monster.

How could you ever do it?

How could you ever betray them?

You could not.

You would not.

If you did, you would die.

Your heart would stop beating itself, you were sure of that. It would still in your chest as it felt it would now, as though it would no longer beat for another. As though when Aemond's had stopped, yours had with it.

You couldn't do it.

You could not take this from them.

From her.

From your mother who had loved and raised you.

From your father who had done the same.

You would sooner throw yourself into the ocean, or onto the spikes at the bottom of Maegor's holdfast to be pierced upon, in a way you felt you deserved, and then, only then, would you be reunited with him. Would you get to hold him once more.

Would you get to love him, and never be threatened, or taken from him again.

Another tear fell.

You gave them a small smile, a sad smile, of regret, of sorrow, of mourning, “Let me have a moment more… Please.” You spoke quietly to them, and only to them.

Guards stationed themselves at the door to secure the chambers, the sounds of dragons flying above the Keep loud and ever present. You breathed in again, closing your eyes as you found the strength to speak once more.

“To see how it feels to sit on a throne I have earnt, and to know, that it was I who put you here. For never again shall I sit here. For after you, it will be Jacaerys, and then his heir, and their heir after. Let me be the Queen I was fated to be, if only a moment more.”

And so you sat, watched on by your mother and father as you felt the weight of the crown atop your head, the Conquerors Crown. A crown you had, by design, conquered.

The blood of the King drenched heavily atop your body, darkening your hair and skin and chemise, the sharp cold of the blades of the Iron Throne beneath you.

A crown forged in blood.

You stared at them, a moment more as they gave you the time you requested, watching as they stood stiffly, eyes shimmering with tears, their faces having fallen as you sat a moment more. And then, all too soon, your resolve and anger melted away, and a tidal wave of grief and relief flooded over you.

You stood shaikly, legs aching as you stretched to your full height, your parents looking up at you in anticipation, taking steps backwards away from the throne.

Your chest heaved, as you took one step, then another, and then flew down the steps and crashed into their waiting arms, Daemon lifting you off the stairs, turning you to face your mother, who buried her face into the crux of your neck. A small sob fell from her lips as they both held you tightly for the first time since you had left them at Dragonstone.

You cried, loudly, sobbing into Daemon, who cooed and kissed at the top of your head, fingers digging painfully into your flesh as he gripped you tightly. Making sure you could not leave him again.

Your father almost collapsed as you felt him cry and shake with you in his arms. Holding him so tightly to him you could scarcely breathe, hands shaking so violently that they almost vibrated.

“Ñuha byka vīlībāzmio.” My little warrior, He whispered into your blood clumped hair, “Issi ao ōdrikagon?” Are you hurt?

You sobbed louder, heart feeling like it would give out, stomach hardened and in pain with how it clenched, "Ñuha prūmia iksis pryjatan.” My heart is broken.

Rhaenyra hushed you gently, pressing a kiss thrice against your cheek, and oh how you missed it. How you missed the way she always did it, always in three's, always the same. Familiar. Yours. Hers. Whispering praise into your ear, promising that you were safe, that they were here now, that they loved you, that they came for you.

And they had.

“I loved him.” You wailed brokenly.

“We know.” Daemon whispered, smoothing your hair at your back.

“I’m with child. And I killed him. I killed the man I loved.” You bawled.

“Ñuha dōna riña.” My sweet girl, Rhaenyra took you from your fathers arms, and you buried your head into her neck, feeling Daemons heat behind you, gripping you tightly, as you inhaled her scent, "He would forgive you. I know he would. My brother would understand. He understood."

It didn't do much to help calm you, but it helped to reassure you that they were truly there, and that they were not a vision like your brother, or Helaena or-

You lifted your head, opening your eyes to the chambers behind Rhaenyra.

There, at the back of the room, hidden amongst the shadows, was the violet and sapphire gaze you would come to miss the most.

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xoxoavenger · 7 months

Text

I Know Places

pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

summary: they take their shots, but we're bulletproof (I know places) and you know for me, it's always you

word count: 2579

warnings: some blood, this one kinda got away from me my bad

1989 masterlist main masterlist

"Here's the problem I have with keeping us a secret,"

"I don't want to hear it."

"I wasn't finished." Y/N doesn't let Stiles' dramatics get in the way of her venting, because right now she couldn't be more mad at the fact that they were not public as a couple.

"Y/N, please," She's only going to say things that have been repeated on multiple occasions in the seven months they've been dating, and tonight Stiles doesn't have the energy nor the time to get into it.

"No, Stiles!" He looks over at her as he realizes that she's more fed up with this than usual. He puts his eyes back on the road as he lets her go off even though he's heard it seven times this month. "I can't stick up for you! You get angry when I so much as look at you in front of the pack, much less try and argue. I mean fuck, no one is going to suddenly think we're dating because I voice the problem I have with using you as bait." She hasn't even taken a breath, and while Stiles understands her side of the story he's not wavering his position.

"I'm not saying you can't look at me! But nothing you say is going to make Scott or Lydia agree to change their position."

"And what about you?" She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the door to see him clearly.

"What about me?" Last time he checked they were talking about her feelings. He chances a glance at her which only makes him feel weirdly guilty about something he's sure he has done but can't actually remember doing.

"Nothing I say can change your position?"

Stiles is a smart man. He gets relatively good grades. He makes countless plans that work, figures out who's trying to fuck with them before even the police can. He can argue and persuade for just about anything. So he knows what Y/N is talking about, and he knows that playing dumb will not help his cause.

"You're mad because I volunteered to be bait." The only reason the two of them are in the Jeep on the way to the woods is because Stiles told everyone that he would gladly draw the new alpha pack to him and run to the check point where the rest of the pack would be waiting. The only problem was the time period before they would make it to the pack, where they would just be to far to help if something happened. They had all been arguing about who it should be when he stepped in, causing Y/N to imagine herself breaking his arm just so he wouldn't.

"I don't know why you have some sort of hero complex," She angrily gets out of the car before he's even parked, leaving him to sigh and slam his own door when he gets out. "But what I'm even more confused about is why you're somehow astonished that your girlfriend would be mad at you throwing yourself into the line of fire." She's freezing as soon as they start walking, but she doesn't say it. In order to draw the alphas, they needed couldn't wear a jacket. In December.

"You didn't have to come with me." He grabs her hand anyway, because they're alone and they don't get to walk holding hands very often.

"Are you even listening to me?" She asks quietly, aware that their pack is intently listening to them, ready to jump in when the alphas arrive. "I'm not mad that I'm here with you, I'm mad you volunteered for sudden death." They make it to the agreed spot, cuddled close together as they shiver.

"You're mad because this plan is the worst." He clarifies, and just like that they're back to normal, clearly understanding each other. They don't need to say it to know that they're both able to forget about the details in the face of death.

"It is," She tells him quietly, smiling wide when he leans his back against a tree and lets her lean against his front. "I mean, having to kiss you, make out even," She isn't able to roll her eyes because Stiles is leaning down, hands coming around her waist as he kisses her.

The amazing plan Stiles came up with is for them to pretend to be lovesick teenagers (because why would a couple of twenty-somethings sneak out to kiss) completely oblivious to the pack roaming the woods. And Y/N wanted to kiss Stiles right then and there when he came up with the plan, which made her even more mad about keeping their relationship a secret. They weren't in high school anymore, and Y/N was sure the pack would be able to handle the knowledge that they were dating, but Stiles was worried, didn't want to step on any toes or break the whole 'no dating pack members' rule that had been established when Malia and Scott broke up.

They kiss for a while, and it keeps them warm for a couple minutes. But soon it's too cold and they're chattering as they kiss, and neither of them even wants to kiss anymore. Just as Y/N's about to tell Stiles that she's not sure she can feel her feet, let alone her hands, they hear it.

They both snap toward the sound of a twig breaking, much closer than they were hoping for. The alphas don't even try to hide, instead flashing three pairs of red eyes through the darkness. It doesn't take anything else for Stiles to begin sprinting, grabbing Y/N's hand and pulling her along.

They run toward where the pack is waiting, desperate to be away from danger and somewhere warm. Y/N's thankful for the adrenaline, which masks pain sparking from her legs as she shakes the cold off and follows Stiles. They're almost to the meeting point when a pair of red eyes makes them veer away.

They hadn't expected that they'd be surrounded.

Stiles doesn't waste a second, pulling Y/N away as if they weren't supposed to be going toward anyone at all. She's freaking out, hoping the pack can hear the change in their footsteps and come meet them. She's lagging behind, the cold burning her lungs in a way that she didn't even think was possible. Her ears are shooting pain into her head as the breeze makes it's way through her body. Her hand is slipping from Stiles' and she's about to give up when she feels pain erupt in her leg, which she previously thought was numb.

She lets out a blood curdling scream as she falls to the ground, Stiles turning to see the sight that haunts his nightmares; Y/N is on the ground, blood pouring out of her leg as she tries to claw herself forward. There's an alpha behind her, a man with a sinister look that tells Stiles the alpha wants to do more than just turn his girlfriend. Before Stiles can even think about how to fight the werewolf that is twice his size, Scott is roaring and tearing at the Alpha's chest, taking him by surprise.

"Run!" He yells at Stiles and Y/N, going back to fighting. Everyone is there within seconds, fighting off the alphas and clearing the path for the couple.

Except Y/N can't run.

She can't stay quiet either, letting out grunts and moans and whimpers with every step. She leans heavily on Stiles, but he's only human. He knows they're surrounded, knows there's not many options for them. It's do or die, and he is not letting his girlfriend die because he just had to be the bait.

He pulls her into a thick patch of bushes, out of sight. They crouch, which becomes sitting and Y/N extends her leg to fully see the bite wound she now has. He knows this isn't enough however, and he squeezes his eyes shut at the thought of what he has to do next.

"They will smell your blood," He whispers to her, maneuvering them to be able to hold her, her back against his chest. Her hands go up to his arm and squeeze, as if he wasn't already feeling guilty enough for what he has to do. He only thinks this quickly because of his recurring nightmare of this exact scenario. He's tried many different ways to hide, and through it all this was the only way they weren't found. "I'm so sorry," He puts a hand over her mouth and pulls her into his chest, his other hand grabbing the moist dirt and pushing it against her wound. She screams at the contact, muffled by his hand that she is clawing at. He grabs more dirt, a tear falling down his face as he presses it harder against her leg.

They will still be able to smell the blood, if they're close and really looking, but they won't be able to track it from afar. All he can do is hope that his pack can take care of it so he can get Y/N to Melissa.

"Stiles," She whimpers, trying not to cry as he moves his hand from her mouth. "Oh God, I'm bit, Stiles!" Her voice was getting high with panic, so Stiles grabs her and holds her as close as he can.

"You're going to be okay, it'll be okay." He doesn't believe his own words, but he needs Y/N to believe them. He needs her to stay strong, because he doesn't know what he'll do if her body rejects the bite.

It feels like they're sitting there for hours, Y/N's grip slowly slackening. Stiles tries not to read too much into it, but the dirt he had put on her leg is wet and dark with blood. He can't put more on, knows that by now there's too much blood to be able to dampen and the only thing it'll do now is introduce infection. He can still hear distant roars, and he hopes someone realizes they never left.

"Stiles!" It's Scott, running quickly. He's able to find them in no time, confirming Stiles' thoughts. He's just glad an enemy didn't find them first.

"She's bit," Stiles tells his best friend, who is currently taking in their position. Y/N's head is lolling, sweat pouring out as her body is fighting to stop the bleeding. This bite was deep, deeper than Scott's or Liam's, and it instantly worries Scott.

"We'll get her out," He assures his best friend, realizing that there's a large possibility that Y/N and Stiles are more than friends. He's surprised they were able to hide it for so long, surprised he never picked up on it.

"I had to put dirt on it. I didn't know where they were, or what was going to happen." Stiles is rambling while Scott helps them stand. "I don't even know if it helped but I couldn't just sit here and let them find us." Y/N is groaning and crying out and finally Scott just picks her up, knowing he has to move.

"You did what you could, Stiles." He tells his best friend, the two of them rushing to get back to the Jeep.

"Stiles," Y/N pants, jostling in Scott's arms as they reach the Jeep.

"It'll be fine." It's the only words Stiles knows, apparently. It's all he can think, because he doesn't even want to imagine any other possibility. He lets Scott put Y/N in the back seat and then climbs in after her, which surprises Scott. He's rarely ever been allowed for drive the jeep, and he realizes now that Y/N and Stiles might be closer than he originally thought. The theory that Stiles has been keeping his girlfriend a secret from his best friend makes him upset, but he knows this isn't as important as keeping Y/N alive.

"Here," He's taking off his sweater and handing it to Stiles to hold to her leg. They both know that they're pushing the dirt in and risking infection, but it's worth it to keep her from bleeding out.

"Y/N," Stiles mutters as he pushes her hair back, trying not to notice how pale she's become. "Hey, baby," He smiles when she opens her eyes.

"I'm bit," She tells him once more, her voice scratchy. She takes shaking breathes, eyes locked on her leg. "Oh my God," She's shaking, the fear in her eyes causing Stiles' heart to jump.

"It'll be okay, I promise. I'm right here." He looks down and sees the blood soaking through Scott's jacket, which makes him uneasy.

"I didn't want this," She cries, causing Scott to squeeze eyes shut.

"I know, I know," Stiles pushes some of her hair off her forehead.

When they get to the hospital, Melissa is waiting outside. She's clearly nervous as Scott gets her out, looking around as they get Y/N on a gurney and rush her in, trying not to be seen by others.

"What happened?" Melissa asks, getting Y/N hooked up to machines. When Stiles pulls the jacket away, she gasps.

"I was bit," Y/N's a little out of it, which worries Stiles. Her blinks are slow.

"Why isn't she healing?" Melissa grabs things she needs to clean and suture the wound.

"We don't know." Stiles answers, gagging as Melissa begins cleaning the blood away.

"We need to get this wound closed, because I can do a lot of things for you guys but I cannot steal blood." She takes a deep breath as she looks at her tools. "I can't steal any drugs to numb your pain either." She's very positive Y/N will pass out before she gets too far into it anyway.

"I can help." Scott puts a hand on Y/N's leg. Melissa nods before beginning her stitches. Y/N doesn't even have the chance to feel the pain because Scott is already taking it, veins darkening as he breathes deeply to not show how much it hurts. Y/N wishes she could thank him, but everything is heavy.

"Her eyes are closing." Stiles is freaking out only slightly. He moves closer to her head, trying not to look at the mess that was her leg.

"Try to keep her awake." Melissa instructs. It's the last thing Y/N hears before she gives herself up to the darkness.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Y/N hears Malia ask through some fog.

"We were worried you guys would get all weird." Stiles answers.

"What does that even mean?" Lydia asks, and Y/N tries to force her eyes open. She can't quite do it.

"You guys always get strange when two people in the pack start dating! And no offense, but it was so awkward when Malia and Scott broke up. We didn't want to go through that again." She's finally able to open her eyes.

"For the record," She starts, voice scratchy with misuse. "Our last argument was about the fact that I didn't want to hide it." She starts coughing, and everyone is at her side, asking a million questions. She doesn't pay attention to anyone else, only watching her boyfriend's face as he realizes that she's awake and okay.

"Oh my God." Stiles is holding her close, tears in her eyes that make her emotional.

"I'm okay," She whispers, still weak but squeezing Stiles with all her might. "I'd never leave you." It breaks the dam and Stiles begins crying into her, knee up on the bed to steady himself.

"I'd never let you."

tags: @tbsimp @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @mcueveryday

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf imagine

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