#hope we’ll get them at some kind of con eventually

[nalyra-dreaming]

So to recap…

* Talamasca is coming

* There was more s2 footage

* They brought in Amy Lee for the presentation

* Sam, Delainey, Assad and Eric were there, supposedly Jacob is filming, and Sam knew he couldn’t come 😭

* Our cast is cute as hell 🥰

[cherienymphe]

Amnesiac (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, violence, public sex, memory loss, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist 

summary: “There’s something wrong with your love story, baby...”

After a surfing accident leaves you with little to no memory of everything that happened before that day, you start to wonder if the blond in what little memories you do have is the same one who claims to be your boyfriend.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft in your ears as he told you to watch your step, and his hand on your arm kept you steady as he guided you inside the impressive house. You knew that it was meant to be comforting, but you told yourself that it would just take some getting used to. Despite what the doctors said, and what he himself had confirmed, he was still a stranger to you.

A beautiful stranger, but a stranger, nonetheless.

The entire ride to his house, you hadn’t been able to stop staring at him. His sharp jawline, his long lashes, the pink of his lips and the way he worried the bottom one between his teeth. You reminded yourself that it was rude, but occasionally he would turn to glance at you, the sun reflecting off of his blue eyes as he drank you in.

Was it strange to say that the hospital had brought you more comfort?

Upon waking up, there hadn’t been a single thing you could recall. Not even your own name. The sterile white walls were anxiety inducing at first, but the more you stared at them, the quicker it took you to realize where you were. You were in a hospital. You couldn’t remember if you had ever been in a hospital before, attempts at trying to search your memories only bringing forth frustration.

You had looked down, taking note of the scrapes and bruises on your arm with a frown. It was easy to deduce that you’d been in some kind of accident, and that assumption made your heart rate spike. It was enough to send the monitor into a frenzy, and your eyes were wide when a nurse came running in. You were shocked to see her, and she looked shocked to see you awake.

Everything after that was a blur of physicians and tests, and a doctor who told you what you’d already guessed.

You’d been in an accident, a surfing accident to be more exact, and he hadn’t been shocked when you confirmed that ‘no’, you didn’t remember a thing. Not even your own name. He was happy to tell you it, and the sound of it did spark some familiarity within you, but it still tasted odd on your tongue. He told you that you’d gone down hard, a rough wave basically slamming you into the rocks.

He didn’t need to voice it because the look in his eye and the tone in his voice said it all.

It was a miracle for you to be alive.

“Tell me,” he had hummed, shining a light in your eyes. “What can you remember?”

Wracking your brain was almost painful, and the monitor had picked up on your increased heartbeat as your breathing started to grow heavy. You blinked, tears of frustration kissing your eyes before shaking your head.

“N-nothing,” you had whispered.

The sound he made was one of disappointment, and you swallowed.

“I had expected that. Still, I’d hoped that…well…”

He’d trailed off, jotting some things down.

“There’s a strong chance it’s not permanent. Overtime, things may come back to you, some slower than others, and some not so much,” he assured you.

You had absentmindedly nodded at that.

“When can I go home?”

It was such a strange question to ask.

You didn’t even know where home was or who else was at home. Did you live alone? With your parents? Did you even have parents? Siblings? Lingering on it for too long made your head hurt, and you pressed your fingers to your temple.

“You’ll need to sign some things first, like filling out your emergency contact for one…”

He had continued at your look of confusion.

“You don’t have one,” your frown deepened at that “…but luckily your boyfriend was the one who found you. He brought you in, and so we’ll need you to put his name down for when you inevitably come back for more tests and as we monitor your progress.”

Boyfriend…?

“Boyfriend?” you had questioned.

The older man had chuckled at you.

“Yes, you’re very lucky. If it wasn’t for him, who knows what might’ve happened. He’s barely left the hospital since you were admitted. He and his family have been very worried.”

He had turned away to say something to the nurse, leaving you with your thoughts. No memories came forth at the thought of a boyfriend, and your frustration grew. How strange it was that you had an entire life that you couldn’t even remember.

When the doctor stepped outside, you heard him talking to someone. Another man. The low timbre of his voice had carried, and you struggled to stand. Looking through the window of your room was the first time you’d seen him, and when he turned to look at you through the glass, his face had touched on something familiar within you.

They parted ways, and the younger blond slowly made his way to the door. You were still when he poked his head inside, the barest of smiles on his lips. Again, something about his face did strike you as familiar, and that made you relax a bit. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a step back when he fully made his way inside, dirty blond hair curtained along his forehead.

Something about him was intimidating, and it had nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t recognize him. There was a harshness to his face that unnerved you, steel blue eyes almost…cold. A low chuckle left him as you warily eyed him.

“They’d said that you wouldn’t remember, but…I had hoped…”

His brows furrowed as he stared at you, and you felt yourself relaxing more at the worry on his features.

“I’m Rafe,” he had softly told you. “Your boyfriend.”

Even days later, as he brought you home, it was still hard to believe that he was in fact your boyfriend. Truthfully, you didn’t know why. You had looked in the mirror a few times during your stay at the hospital, and it wasn’t like you thought you were ugly. He certainly didn’t intimidate you in that respect, but there was just something about him that you found hard to pull your eyes away from.

Something about him struck you ass off, but so far, he had been the only one who could answer any questions you had about yourself.

“They’re dead?” you had quietly repeated days before, sitting across from him on your hospital bed.

Your hands were in your lap, and although you could see the way Rafe’s had been twitching to hold yours, he respected your discomfort.

“You were 11…and it was a really bad car accident.”

The knowledge that you didn’t have parents, hadn’t had any for years, had caused a cold sickly feeling to twist in your gut.

“You have pictures of them,” he’d said, making you look up. “Do you want me to bring them tomorrow?”

You had nodded without hesitation, and you’d been relieved for more reasons than one when he did just that. His shoulder had brushed yours as you flipped through the album, none of the pictures sparking anything within you. Rafe knew the context of each and every one, pointing at them and recounting stories. You were shocked to find him in a few too, pointing at who he claimed was his father and sister as well.

“What happened to me after they died?” you had asked.

Rafe had sighed, closing the photo album and setting it aside.

“You were adopted by some family friends of theirs,” he started, and his tone prepared you for what he’d said next. “They provide, but your relationship could be…better. They’re actually on some cruise, right now.”

He had shrugged, and your lips had parted.

“You stayed at our house, a lot.”

And that was where you found yourself after you were finally released.

Rafe was close to you, hand grazing your skin as he gave you a tour. You could feel his gaze on you, watching and hoping for some recognition, no doubt. You had no choice but to disappoint him though, shrugging at him with a sheepish smile. Shockingly, he didn’t look all that upset, reaching out to brush his thumb along your jaw, a look in his blue eyes that you couldn’t place.

“That’s okay,” he gently told you. “Maybe you’ll remember…maybe you won’t.”

He smiled then, fingers grazing the back of your neck, and a shudder passed through you.

“We’ll just have to make new memories.”

The hallway was dark when you came out of the bathroom, an unfamiliar t-shirt hitting your knees. You suspected that it belonged to Rafe, and you forced yourself to be okay with that. Even if your memories never fully returned, you’d have to get used to everything about your life again eventually.

And that included your boyfriend.

You could hear voices coming from downstairs, and you were cautious in approaching the stairs. You recognized the man next to Rafe as his father, an unfamiliar dark-haired girl at the table too. The conversation dwindled as you neared, and Rafe was quick to get up and grab your clothes from your arm.

“You gave us quite the scare.”

Rafe’s dad approached you, and you glanced at his son as he disappeared towards what you guessed was the laundry room. You turned back to the older man as he pulled you into a hug.

“Ward,” he said after a while of you just staring at him.

You nodded, eyes glancing towards the other occupant.

“…and that’s my daughter Wheezie. You used to babysit her, actually.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, albeit nervously.

“My wife, Rose, will probably be down in a minute,” he told you, gently guiding you towards the table. “God, I can’t imagine what could’ve happened if Rafe hadn’t been there with you.”

You sat down on the other side of Rafe’s chair, slowly returning his smile when he sat down too.

“Uh…yeah,” was all you could say. “He said that I was out for…a week? 4 days, something like that?”

Rafe rubbed circles into your back, and you didn’t miss the way his sister frowned at the sight.

“6 days,” he murmured to you, fixing you a plate.

“So, you don’t remember anything?” his sister asked, finally speaking up.

You shook your head, and there was a deep frown on her baby-ish face.

“You didn’t even remember your name?”

Ward scolded her, but you answered anyway.

“Nothing,” you sadly said. “The doctor had to tell it to me.”

“Everything will come back with time,” Ward assured you just as what you assumed was his wife came down the stairs.

She introduced herself, worry as clear as day on her face as her husband confirmed your memory loss. Dinner was mostly centered on you, questions thrown at you by Rafe’s sister, Wheezie. You didn’t mind it much, hoping that maybe her curiosity would eventually spark a memory or two.

“I didn’t even know you guys were dating,” she’d said at one point. “You always acted like you hated him.”

Her comment had you looking up with a slight frown, turning to Rafe when he angrily said her name. You watched the way he glared at her before returning to his food. Was that true? You supposed that she would know, and you found it odd. Did you really used to act like you hated him? It was hard to imagine that. Not only because he was supposedly your boyfriend, but also because Rafe hadn’t been anything but kind to you.

You couldn’t imagine anyone hating him.

When dinner was over, Ward collected all of the plates. Rafe’s hand was on your arm as he guided you upstairs, wishing the rest of his family goodnight. You didn’t have a choice but to follow him, quiet as he led you to what you surmised was his room. Your lips parted at the sight, and you nervously looked to him.

“Um…”

You watched Rafe laugh to himself, shaking his head.

“Sorry,” he said. “Habit.”

“No, I get it-.”

“I’m basically a stranger to you,” he interrupted, pulling you down the hall. “Of course, you would want your own bed.”

Your heart sank, and you realized that you felt bad. You were Rafe’s girlfriend, had been for a while it seemed, and he couldn’t really treat you as such because of the accident. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him as he showed you around the room, pointing out the bathroom. He told you that you both could go by your house and get some of your clothes one day, and you could tell by the way he’d hesitated that he’d wanted to kiss you before wishing you a goodnight.

“Goodnight,” you quietly replied back, and Rafe lingered in the doorway for a moment or two before finally leaving.

You took in the room with a small sigh, wondering how many times you’d been in here and just didn’t remember it. Being in this house and with Rafe’s family definitely pulled at something in your brain, just there beneath the surface, and it bothered you. It gave you hope that your memories would come back eventually, but it did nothing to ease your frustration.

You made your way to the window, looking through the blinds and into the yard. Rafe had mentioned to you that you didn’t live far from him, and considering the nice house and neighborhood, you wondered if you grew up nicely too. Figure 8. That’s what he’d called it. You repeated it aloud to yourself, saying it a few times before something finally clicked in your mind.

“The Cut,” you whispered to yourself.

Figure 8 was one side of the island…and The Cut was the other.

It was the only thing you could remember at the moment, but it was something, and it gave you hope. Movement in the yard caught your eyes, and you focused on a figure walking across the lawn. She looked familiar, and just when you got your hopes up, you realized that you knew her from the pictures you’d seen in your photo album.

It was Sarah.

Rafe’s other sister.

It looked like she was sneaking into the house, but it seemed that your room light caught her attention. She stopped where she stood, looking up at you with wide eyes, mouth falling open in shock. Rafe hadn’t exactly told you how well you knew her, but if the expression on her face was anything to go by, you’d say you knew her very well. She stared up at you for what felt like a long time before she seemingly sprinted inside.

You weren’t entirely shocked when you heard footsteps quickly making their way up the stairs. However, you could hear the other girl being intercepted. It sounded like Ward, and you could hear him telling her that you needed plenty of rest. You weren’t able to swallow down your sigh of relief, moving to turn out your light.

These past few days had been nothing short of overwhelming. You felt like there was just too much information to take in, and as much as you’d love to get reacquainted with Rafe’s sister, you really just wanted to call it a night. You hoped that by the time you woke up, you’d remember something else.

After all, you didn’t exactly enjoy staying in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by nothing but strangers. The biggest stranger of all being the one who called himself your boyfriend.

You dreamt of blond hair that night. Blond hair and the smell of the salty ocean. It was so vivid that when you woke up, it was still on your mind, and you came to the conclusion that it must’ve been a memory.

“The beach?” Rafe asked as he drove you to your house.

You tried to pay attention, tried to remember the route or even hoped that it would bring forth another memory.

“Yeah,” you said. “I remembered the water…and your hair.”

You were staring out of the window, and you could feel Rafe’s gaze on you. You confirmed that you were right when you glanced at him. His arm rested on the back of your seat, and his fingers danced long your skin.

“My hair?”

You nodded with a hum.

“Blonde…and not super short, but not long either.”

You eyed his hair then, frowning a little as you recalled the blonde hair from your memory. It seemed blonder, but that could’ve been the sun. Rafe didn’t respond to that immediately, simply gazing at you while also managing to keep his truck straight on the road.

Rafe simply hummed before turning away.

Your house was just as impressive as his, and you watched in awe as he grabbed a spare key from under the mat, letting you both in. You were distracted by the inside, looking around and taking it all in, almost in disbelief that you grew up here. However, the pictures on the coffee table and fireplace mantel said so.

Rafe seemed patient enough as he watched you look around. You took note of some shoed by the door, and you got the feeling that they were yours. When you finally looked at him again, he was holding his hand out towards you. You hesitated, unintentionally, of course. It all felt so strange and weird, but you told yourself that there was only one way to get past all of that.

Tentatively, you took Rafe’s hand, allowing him to lead you up the stairs.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting your room to be like, but it surprised you, nonetheless. The small surfboard in the corner wasn’t shocking though. After all, it was a surfing accident that had caused all of this.

“Your other one got wrecked in the accident,” Rafe told you, following your gaze. “Broke right in half.”

The visual was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and when you turned around, you noticed that he was pulling things out of your drawers to take. You decided to follow his lead, albeit unsurely. You didn’t really know what you liked, and you got the feeling that Rafe could sense that as he approached you.

“Here,” he said, grabbing a pink dress.

It was strapless and casual and much softer than it looked.

“You always look pretty in that,” he quietly told you, playing with an errant hair.

At that, you looked at him, startled by just how close he was. Rafe ran his eyes over you, gaze heavy, and you blinked before awkwardly looking away. It seemed unfair almost that he was so comfortable with you while you on the other hand…

You couldn’t help but eye him as he turned back around, gazing at the back of him.

It was still quite unbelievable to you that he was your boyfriend. The evidence was there. The familiarity, his family, his knowledge of you, but still. You didn’t know if it was how he looked or his attitude or what, but now you found yourself curious.

“How did we start dating?”

He straightened at that, looking at you, tilting his head.

“I don’t know why, but I just find it so hard to believe that you’re dating me. I want to know how it happened,” you said with a shrug.

Rafe exhaled, putting some clothes down onto the bed before nearing you. There was the faintest of smiles on his lips as he took a shirt from your hand, folding it. It was contagious, and you slowly returned it.

“Well,” he started, gazing at you from beneath his lashes, and you couldn’t deny the way it made your stomach twist. “I’d had my eye on you for a while.”

You blinked, scrunching your nose up at that.

“Really?”

Rafe nodded before moving back to lean against your bed, intense gaze fixed on you.

“I wanted you,” he said with conviction. “…and I always get what I want.”

His tone was teasing, but something about it unsettled you even though you didn’t know why.

“Persistent?”

“Proactive,” he replied with a shrug.

He folded your clothes into a neat pile before placing them in a nearby bag. Now that you had started the conversation, you had more questions about your relationship. Rafe had said that sleeping in his bed was a habit, and you couldn’t help but wonder what else you did in his bed. It wasn’t weird to question just how serious your relationship was. After all, you wanted to be prepared.

Not to mention, if this past week or so was anything to go by, Rafe was an amazing boyfriend to you. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you knew you’d feel bad if you discovered that he wasn’t experiencing certain things he was used to all because of your accident. You were getting to know him again, sure, but it didn’t change the fact that he still felt like somewhat of a stranger.

Holding his hand would take some getting used to, let alone…anything else.

“What was I like?” you eventually wondered. “You know, before the accident.”

You leaned against your dresser, gazing at pictures stuck in your mirror. Some were of you and Sarah, sometimes Wheezie. Your eyes were drawn to a few that featured some people you didn’t recognize, a naturally tan girl with long wavy hair featured in many.

“I guess I should say what am I like,” you corrected, looking at Rafe.

His gaze was on the pictures you were just looking at, eyes almost icy in nature before they softened on you.

“You love being outside. That’s how we got in this situation,” he lightly said. “You’re a pescatarian. That’s why I didn’t put any meat on your plate last night.”

That piqued your interest.

“You love animals, and you are probably the sweetest girl I know,” he continued, reaching out and pulling you towards him.

He let out a soft laugh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded bitter.

“You get along with…just about anyone,” he almost seemed to sneer. “Almost to a fault.”

You frowned at that.

“What do you mean?”

“It means that there are some people on this island who aren’t…good,” he whispered to you. “They don’t have your best interests at heart, and the sweet girl that you are…”

His fingers grazed the back of your hand.

“You didn’t see that until it was too late.”

You wanted to ask him to elaborate, but not only did the topic seemed to sour his mood, forcing him to brush by you and continue packing, but you also wondered if you really even wanted to know. Here you were with the option to not know about any hurt that had been done to you, and you were really about to ruin such an opportunity. You didn’t know who Rafe was talking about, nor what he was referring to, but you made the decision then that you didn’t want to. Besides, there was a chance it would come back eventually, anyway, and you didn’t see the point in spoiling your ignorant bliss.

For the first time since your accident, you were grateful for the memory loss.

Turning away from Rafe, you made your way to the other side of your room. You opened your closet, taking in the rest of your clothes with a grimace. It was clear that all of this had been picked out by you, but you found yourself overwhelmed. Luckily, a plain white tee on the floor caught your attention, and you bent down to pick it up.

You eyed it with a small frown, turning it over. It was clearly a men’s tee, the size and style telling you that it didn’t belong to you. The obvious answer was Rafe, and you stood, still eyeing it as you walked towards him. You could see that some initials had been written in the tag, the so much washing and detergent had faded them a bit.

“Do you want this back?”

Rafe looked over his shoulder, and you frowned at the way his face fell. His blue eyes gazed at the t-shirt for what felt like too long, and you almost started to ask him if he was okay when he threw you a perfect smile. Rafe reached for it, fingers brushing yours as he took it.

You were startled when he leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek, but you told yourself that it was habit for him, and at one point, it had been habit for you too. You felt your face warm up.

“Thanks, babe. I had been looking for that.”

You watched as Rafe balled it up, proceeding to shove it to the bottom of the bag. The smile you he threw you was comforting, and when you turned back to your closet, you could feel the heat of your boyfriend’s gaze on your back.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 56: Phone Call

Harry's mobile rang and he couldn't help but smile as he reached for his back pocket. It had taken a while but Draco had finally come around on mobiles, he called him almost every day on his lunch and it was one of Harry's favorite parts of his day.

"Hey you," he greeted. "I was thinking pot roast for dinner, would you pick up some carrots on your way?"

"Harry," he gasped and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end, his entire body tingling like he was about to fall off a cliff.

"Where are you?" he asked. "I'm coming for you."

"Too late," the other man rasped.

Harry shook his head, and grabbed his wand, "No-"

"Please," Draco begged, breath rattling in his chest, "Listen," he gasped, "to me."

"I'm listening," Harry whispered, he couldn't get his voice to come out any louder, it felt like he'd swallowed glass.

"I love you," he said. "So much. You," he broke of, a cough rattling around in his chest. "Are the best thing that ever happened to me."

Harry's breath caught on a panicked sob, "Draco-"

"You," he gasped, crying out in pain, "you saved me. Love yo-"

The phone call ended abruptly and without a thought, Harry immediately apparated, through the wards into the Ministry and straight into Ron's office. "Where is he?" he said the moment his feet touched the floor.

"Circe's tits!" Ron exclaimed and Harry was vaguely aware of something shattering as Ron startled. "How the bloody hell-"

"Where is he?!" Harry shouted.

"Draco?" Ron shook his head, "You know I can't tell you that, mate. You're not-"

"I don't care. He's dying! Tell me where he is or I will bring this building to the ground."

(Read more below the cut)

"What-"

"Tell me!"

"Alright," he said, looking down at the file on his file, "Here-" he said thrusting the file at Harry.

He looked at the coordinates and apparated into the warehouse they'd sent Draco to. The moment his feet touched the ground spells were being fired of at him, but Harry was so desperate, so terrified, that his magic exploded from his body, knocking down every person standing in the room.

Without thinking, he started to move. "Draco!" he shouted as he started to jog through the rows of cases, "Draco," he begged, his heart thundering so loudly in his ears that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear a response.

He was almost to the end of the warehouse, about to turn back, when he glanced down a row and saw him, crumpled on the ground, blood pooling absolutely everywhere.

"Draco," he gasped, running to him and lifting him into his arms.

Draco's eyes fluttered weakly and that was all the hope that Harry needed. He apparated with the other man in his arms, taking him to St. Mungos, and screaming "Help!" as soon as they landed.

Healers seemed to rush from every side, a fact that Harry would be profoundly grateful for later, and Draco was laid out on a stretcher to be moved into a room.

A healer caught Harry as he tried to follow, "Let us work," she said.

"But-"

"No," she told him firmly, "I know you are terrified, but we need to be able to work and having you in there will only distract us."

"He's my life," Harry whispered.

She nodded, "I will do everything I can. Please. Stay here and we'll update you as soon as we can."

He stumbled when she let go, collapsing onto the floor by the door. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed as he sat on the floor with his head down between his knees, shaking and trying to breathe before Ron and Hermione found him.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured.

"Did you find him?" Ron asked, "Did you get to him in time?"

Harry looked up to see Ron's face ashen, Hermione's eyes wide with concern and he cracked, splintered into a thousand pieces that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to put together again.

His best friends were at his sides in an instant, Hermione wrapped her arms around him from the left and Ron around both of them from the right. And Harry cried. He wept, heaving, ugly sobs that he could hardly breathe around.

When he finally managed to calm himself down enough to take a deep shuddering breath, he whispered, "I don't know."

"What?" Ron asked, rubbing his hand in soothing circles along Harry's back.

"I found him and he was alive, but just barely."

"Okay," Hermione said, "Okay. We'll wait with you, alright?" she asked.

He nodded and rested his head against her shoulder, still ensconced in their embraces. Time seemed to be hardly moving at all but eventually the same healer who'd stopped Harry from going along with Draco came out of the room.

Harry looked up at her, his heart lodged so completely in his throat that he couldn't get any words out.

"He's alive," she said and Harry had to fight not to start sobbing all over again. "He's still unconscious and we won't know the complete extent of the damage until he's awake-"

"Can I see him?" Harry begged.

She nodded, "Yes. It might be some time before he wakes up, though. And like I was saying, we won't know the extent-"

"I don't care," Harry said, "I don't care one bit, whatever happens we'll work through it. I'll do anything."

"Okay," she said softly, "Okay. Go ahead inside."

Ron and Hermione helped him up and followed him into the room but stayed near the doorway as Harry approached the bed. Hermione conjured a chair for him near the bed and he gave her a grateful little nod, it was the best he could do.

He brought Draco's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles, "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please come back to me, my love," he said, voice tight. "I can't-" he couldn't push any other words out through his throat, he broke down crying again, pressing Draco's hand against his lips.

Hermione stepped over and rubbed Harry's back, Ron came to the foot of the bed and murmured, "He'll pull through."

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

Two weeks. Harry had spent two weeks in St. Mungos; he hadn't left to go further than the bathroom in Draco's room for a quick shower or downstairs to get some food to bring up.

At first, he'd watched Draco almost constantly, begging him to wake up, but he'd slowly allowed himself to start doing other things while he waited; reading books aloud to him or the newspaper, knitting scarves while he talked to Draco about whatever came into his head that he'd donate to the gala that raised money for children orphaned by the war, and napping in the chair that Hermione had made for him.

He was working on a crossword when he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. By this point, though, he'd thought that the other man was moving so many times that he finished writing in the word he was on before looking up.

Time stood still as Draco's eyes fluttered slowly open.

"Draco?" he whispered.

Draco turned his head slowly, his eyes catching on Harry's.

"Hey," Harry gasped, dropping the cross word, his eyes filling with tears as the took Draco's hand in his and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. "You scared the shit out of me," he said weakly.

"Harry?" Draco rasped, voice hardly making any sound at all.

He nodded, "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," he whispered.

"Hold on," he murmured, pulling out his wand and sending a patronus to the healers station. "I love you," Harry said. "Godric, I love you."

"I've heard you," Draco said.

"Sorry?" he murmured.

Draco's fingers weakly squeezed Harry's and Harry took that to be a good sign, "I heard you," he said. "I lost count of how many times you said it."

He pressed another kiss to Draco's knuckles, not sure what to say.

A healer came hurrying in, "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "You gave your boyfriend quite a scare, love."

He nodded, squeezing Harry's fingers.

"Let's get you up to testing, so we can get a better picture of your recovery plan."

Draco looked over at him, "You'll be here?"

"I'm pretty much never leaving your side again," Harry said, only half joking. "Yes, I'll be here."

-------

When they returned Draco to him, the other man was smiling and a bit of color had returned to his face. He seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with the healer bringing him back to Harry.

He glanced up and gave Harry a smile as she put his bed back in place.

"You'll be happy to know that he's going to be okay," she informed Harry. "We'll have to do a bit of work to re-train his body," she added, "but he'll make a full recovery."

"Thanks," Harry said, shaking her hand before moving back to his chair at Draco's side.

"Hey," Draco murmured.

He took Draco's hand in his and brushed a kiss over the back, "Hi."

"You've wanted me to quit the aurors for a while," Draco said.

"Yes," he affirmed because it was true; being an auror was dangerous and it was always fighting not only the bad guys but also corruption within the system. "But I understand the appeal of doing good things to help people," he added, because he did, he understood it all too well.

"Could you help me with something?"

Harry laughed, "At this point you could ask me to do pretty much anything and I would."

"Do you have a piece of parchment?"

He looked around, digging through the stack of books and magazines that Hermione had left him until he found a piece of scrap paper, "Will this do?"

He rolled his eyes, "I suppose it will suffice." And what a ridiculous thing it was to have missed his haughtiness.

"What do you want me to write?" Harry asked.

Draco cleared his throat, "Dear Head Auror Weasley," he started and Harry looked up at him in shock. "Write it down," he chastised.

His fingers trembled a little as he started to write.

"I hereby tender my resignation, effective immediately. Signed, Draco Malfoy."

"Do you mean it?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, reaching up to cup Harry's face. "I'm sorry."

Harry turned his head to press a kiss to Draco's palm, "It doesn't matter anymore." He kissed his palm again, "You're going to be alright and you won't be in that kind of situation again. We're okay," Harry breathed.

"We're better than okay, I hope," Draco replied softly, almost a question.

"Better than okay," Harry affirmed with a nod and a smile.

And Harry was quite content to spend the rest of their (long) lives being better than okay.

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

Day 55: Music | Day 57: Text Message

[the-lady-writes-what]

Cabin Fever, Part One

Yandere Prompt #3: I know they’re uncomfortable, but bare with it for a while. Please?

Requested by no one. I just wanted to write this myself. 

Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader x Tamaki Amajiki

I was originally going to do this as a one-shot, but then my imagination got the better of me and it started to get too long. I don’t want to make you read through a mile of text before you get to the NSFW content, so I’ll write a second part featuring that. There’s some saucy stuff at the end with implications of dub con/non con, but the heavier stuff will come in the second part. 

More Prompts

Part Two

Your eyelids cracked open. You awoke in the back of a car, arms pinned behind your back. City lights all disappeared in favor of giants made of pine lit by moonlight and a huge scattering of stars. A thick woolen blanket was wrapped around you and an actual pillow was placed under your head. With the way you were positioned, you couldn’t see the driver except for the back of his seat. Despite the warmth of the blanket, your feet were cold. That was likely due to the fact that your kidnapper took off your shoes and left your feet bare. 

Shuffling around in the backseat, you tried to squirm. You wanted to move your arms and pull the blanket off you, but you couldn’t. The blanket muffled a dull metal sound. As your senses slowly came back to you, you felt cold metal snapped around your wrists. 

Panic set in quickly. You tried to sit up, however you were so wrapped up in the blanket that you couldn’t move. Like a human burrito. It might have been endearing if you weren’t stuck in the back of a car with your wrists handcuffed behind your back. You craned your neck this way and that to make out even the barest of glances at your captor to no avail. He was quite throughly protected by his large driver’s seat or being very lean and sneaky himself. 

“Where are we going? Who the hell are you?” 

Your captor made no response. He switched on the radio to tune you out. In your predicament, trying to fight would get you hurt or killed. The best way to survive now was to use your brains. Trapped as you were, you could take this time to come up with something. But first, you had to remember how you managed to get into this in the first place. You laid back down, half-listening to whatever happened to be on the radio, and racked your brain. The last thing you recalled was stepping into a parking garage. There was someone with you...who was it? 

You couldn’t move your head high enough to even check the time on the dash. It must have been a while because you found yourself falling asleep again. You didn’t wake up until the vehicle came to stop. You only noticed because the trees stopped zooming past you and the radio turned off. The driver side door closing loudly startled you awake. Your blood was pumping. Your first instinct was to start kicking when your captor came to get you, but that would have only worked if he approached the other side. The door closest to your head was pulled open. A bright light stood overhead, blinding you. It didn’t help the fact that your captor wore a dark hood to prevent you from getting a good look at him. 

With ease and the strength of ten men, you remained in your fuzzy woolen burrito as you were pulled out of the backseat. He heaved you unto his shoulder like a potato sack. You didn’t see much in the dark, however when you looked, your heart sank. Trees, even in the night, were all you could see. Looking up, the number of stars made you believe that you were far from the nearest town. There were too many of them in the sky for you to think you could hitch a ride somewhere and get a hold of the police. You were miles and miles away from civilization. 

Gravel crunched underneath your captor’s feet as he hiked up a little hill. It gave way to carved stone path. It wound its way to a set of wooden stairs. It took those without ever losing his breath while carrying you. Keys jingled. He unlocked a door, which he swung open. 

Cool night air gave way to stifling warmth. You watched as woodwork and rugs greeted you as your head helplessly dangled against his back. You could hear a crackling fire place. Somewhere in the house, someone was making dinner. You smelt the cooking of beef, spices, and bread overwhelm the air. You wriggled while still on top of your captor’s shoulder. He turned into what looked like a living room where he settled you on the couch. At last, he began to peel off the blanket that was slowly cooking you alive now that you were in such a warm room heated by an actual fire. 

“Tamaki, is that you?” Footsteps. 

Wait. You knew that voice. But more importantly...

You whipped your head behind you. Sure enough, Tamaki was there. He didn’t have the guts to turn away for shame or guilt. There was a bright red color to his cheeks, but he almost looked pleased with himself. You opened your mouth to speak but was cut short by the other person entering the room.

“I wasn’t expecting...what is y/n doing here?” Mirio stood there, dumbfounded. He looked like he was in the middle of making the dinner that smelled so lovely. The image was complete with the dish rag thrown over his shoulder and the smear on his cheek. 

“I-I’m sorry, Mirio. I couldn’t...I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t wait,” answered Tamaki. 

It came back to you. You had been walking to your car, alone at night. But the parking garage never had security issues nor would you be a target. Plus, a pro-hero agency was across the street. Blood drained from your face. The agency belonged to Mirio and Tamaki. 

Mirio’s shifted between you and Tamaki. His face was drawn in what looked like disappointment. For a moment, you thought that you were about to see a fall out between friends because Tamaki had taken a joke too far or had gone off the deep end. You expected for Mirio to start a fight and take you to safety, but then he opened his mouth again. 

“It was too soon to bring her here. I told you we needed more time. Now, her co-workers will think something terrible happened to her. Tamaki, what were you thinking?” 

Too soon? More time? Just when you thought that you were saved, Mirio dashed your hope like fragile glass. He still looked disappointed but not because he friend did something highly immoral and illegal. You shuddered to think what they planned out if Tamaki had followed along with it instead of grabbing you prematurely. Mirio walked to the couch and knelt in front of you. The contrast of a man plotting to kidnap you and the image on his knees before you was almost too much for your mind to take. 

"This wasn't quite what I imagined, Y/N, but..." Mirio rubbed circles in your knees. "We'll just have to make the best of it, won't we?"

You shrank out of his reach and pulled your legs up to your chest. You stared in shock at him, one of the top heroes. He graduated near the top of his class how could he consider kidnapping a choice he could make.

"You have to let me go. I won't say anything and we'll forget all about this, but you have to let me go. Now."

Mirio shook his head. "If we did that, you'd move far away and that would be too painful. That is if you don't lie and sneak off to the police. Or Deku. You'd tell him the moment you got the chance."

Your blood ran cold. 

Mirio stood up. His smile no longer any kind of warmth or kindness for you. He turned to head back to the kitchen. 

“I better get back to cooking. I’ll have to make another portion on the spot. I wasn’t expecting more than two plates,” said Mirio. 

That left you alone with Tamaki. Unfortunately, he wasn’t talking to you. He wedged himself into the corner furthest away from you and stuck his head against the wall. This behavior of his would normally invoke pity in you. You hated to see him like that, so afraid to look another person in the face. You couldn’t feel such a way now, not with your hands handcuffed behind your back. Mirio didn’t return for a while to announce dinner. Only when you were at the dinner table did Tamaki gingerly uncuff one of your hands. He released your dominant hand so you could eat but cuffed the other end to the dining room chair’s arm. You pouted at the instrument of your imprisonment. 

“I promise we’ll explain later,” said Mirio. 

You almost didn’t want to eat. You could have thrown the plate in front of you across the table, then thought better of it. Two strong pro-heroes and you didn’t even a good quirk to beat them back. You didn’t have a quirk at all. You were a lamb in a lion’s den. Choosing the path of least resistance, you ate quietly. Tamaki reached over to the hand he cuffed to the chair. He was shaking and couldn’t be brave enough to look at your face. You felt his sweaty, clammy palm hold your hand in his shaky grip. All you could do was play along for now.

The minutes ticked by and slowly, so slowly, turned into hours. Immediately after dinner, Mirio and Tamaki were preparing to go to bed. You were still handcuffed to the dining room chair. You watched them tidy up and wash the dishes as if you weren't trapped in their house in the middle of the woods. But the time eventually came when Mirio uncuffed you and rubbed your wrists. He was smiling so genuinely, but it didn't escape your notice that he put the handcuffs in his back pocket.

Mirio gently took your hand guided you to the bedroom. He went to the dresser and pulled out a large flannel shirt.

Handing it to you, Mirio said, "I'll be right back. You can change in here. I promise I won't peak."

He turned, exited, and closed the door. You looked down at the shirt in your hands. You didn’t trust him, not with that quirk of his. To think once upon a time you were ecstatic that he was able to get his quirk back. Now, it only reminded you that he could take a peek if he really wanted to and might not even notice until it was too late. But you were shivering in your thin shirt and jeans. You ditched your clothes and put on the flannel shirt that reached to the top of your thigh. A few minutes later the bedroom door swung open again. Tamaki and Mirio had both changed as well. Tamaki wore a matching set of blue flannel pajamas while Mirio opted for dark gray sweatpants and no shirt. 

Mirio was behind you in a second pulling your wrists together behind your back. You struggled for a minute before the cuffs were snapped right back on. He rubbed your arms as he guided you to the large bed big enough for a six-person orgy. Before you knew it, you were nestled between Tamaki against your back and Mirio pressed against your front. Mirio was the one who kept his arms around you while Tamaki buried his face in you shoulder. None of this stopped you from wriggling around and trying to snap the handcuffs. 

“I-I know they’re uncomfortable,” Tamaki murmured against your skin. “J-just, just bare with it for a while. Please?” 

That didn’t stop you from wriggling around. You brushed against Tamaki’s crotch, making him hiss. Then, something hard pushed against your lower back. Mirio’s hand snaked its way to the back of your head where his fingers gently coiled in your hair. He titled your head up to make you look him in the eyes. Your struggles ceased. 

“Tamaki, I think we should do something to help Y/N simmer down and go to sleep. She won’t be wriggling around so much if she releases some of that pent up energy.” 

“D-Do you think so?” Asked Tamaki. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try!” Mirio kissed you on the mouth, tongue brushing your lips before forcing its way past them. 

[katieraven]

SOMEBODY TO DIE FOR

Summary: Elizabeth Jones is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent frequently on missions with the Avengers. When one mission backfires, she is left to deal with the resulting trauma and some unresolved affections for a certain Sergeant ...

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/OC

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ smut, language, graphic depictions of violence and torture, implication of non-con elements (on the antagonist's side), self-destructive behaviour, so much angst and trauma, eventual fluff and happy ending

Word count: 14638

Notes: Hello there, fellow Bucky simps, it is wonderful to see you.

I started writing this thing shortly after watching episodes 1-3 of The Falcon And The Winter Soldier, although this fic has nothing to do with the series at all, it simply served as inspiration. The story got a little out of hand and was originally meant to be a short, self-indulgent, silly little thing, but well, here we are. I do hope you enjoy it. If you want, you will find this fic on AO3 here.

Love,

Katie

P.S.: @sventeen-daybreak, in case you were wondering, this is the fic I was talking about that I couldn't shut up with.

P.P.S.: Also I am apparently overly motivated, I made a playlist for this, and there is a second moodboard.

~~~

The room is pitch dark. I hate the dark, hate when I can’t see. I can hear Steve in my earpiece, trying to coordinate this mess of a mission.

Boy, did it go wrong. So quickly, too. Civilians cry and scream above me in the upper levels. I hope they get them out before it’s too late.

“Steve, civilians on the second floor, western wing”, Bucky’s voice crackles over comms. I release the air I’ve been holding. They will get them out. I know they will.

“Got it”, Steve answers.

“Top floor’s clear”, Sam notes.

Carefully, I take a step forward. All my senses are heightened in the darkness. Gun out in front of me, I advance further into the room. Back against the wall. Slowly, my eyes are getting used to the dark, dusty room. It smells like old plastic and metal and reminds me of the copy rooms in the library I used to go to as a kid.

I start to make out the shapes of old computers around me. Lines of shelves full of old folders and crates. Jackpot.

“I found something in the basement. Looks like they used the hostages as a distraction, there’s all kinds of data down here.”

Steve’s answer crackles into my earpiece seconds later, “Anything of value?”

I step up to one of the hulking grey computers on the nearest table. My eyes are adjusting more and more to the darkness surrounding me. As dusty and unused the rest of the room looks, the computers are surprisingly clean.

“They’ve been used recently.”

“You alone down there, Jones?”, Bucky asks.

“Seem to be. Can’t hear anything other than the scuffle upstairs.”

“Be careful”, he just huffs, then I hear gunshots cracking in the distance.

It feels wrong. If the hostages really are a distraction, why would the basement be deserted?

“I don’t like this, Steve. It’s too quiet.” I murmur.

“Can you get in there, Jones? Find what they’ve been hiding?”

I hesitate. It’s not that I think I wouldn’t get in, but I’d have to let my guard down. The bad feeling in my stomach builds.

“Sam, can you have Redwing scan the basement for heat signatures? Make sure I really am alone down here?”

“Sure thing, J. Gimme one sec”, I hear him grunt.

I wait, gun in both hands. Then, “All clear.”

The gun placed next to me on the table, I gently lower my fingers on the keyboard. Clean, too. Not unused, though, the letters are fading. I reach into my pocket to pull out a flash drive and shove it into the PC's slot. The machine begins to whizz, then the screen lights up. Within a few seconds, I have a scanner running. Nothing.

“Seems they prepared for this kinda situation; I need more time if I’m to get something outta these things.”

“You have three minutes, then we have to get out of here. Take what you can get. Anything else we’ll have Tony have a look at later at the –“

An explosion shakes the building around me. I instinctually grab the gun. Dust falls around me like snow.

Then everything happens at once.

“This is a distraction, they’ve set the place to blow, Steve!”, Bucky shouts over comms. I curse, sticking the flash drive into my pocket.

“Get out of there, Buck! Jones, you too!”

Gun drawn, I make my way over to the door.

“Shit, Jones, you’ve got company!”, Sam shouts and I freeze.

Down the hall, I can hear the shuffling of boots. Three. Maybe four.

“How many”, I murmur into the earpiece.

“Four, more coming from the other side!”

I’m surrounded. This was a trap the entire time.

“Stay low, I’m coming.” I can hear the strain in Bucky’s voice, a grunt as he fights his way down to me.

“They blew the stairs, Bucky, we will have to find another way-“

“Five more from the east, Jones! Get out of there!”

I flatten my back against the wall. Breathe. You’re not going down like this. This is not the end I tell myself, feeling my pulse quicken. This is a trap. I am trapped.

Comms are silent. The first HYDRA agent steps through the door and I shoot him in the neck. He goes down and the next one follows. Shouting words in a language I only know broken pieces of, he dodges my bullet, going for my legs. One shot misses, I react only on reflex as I kick his legs out from under him and lock him between my thighs, firing at the next one.

“I’m coming, Jones.” Bucky huffs over comms.

“Busy”, I growl as the next guy pulls out a knife and swipes at my arm, narrowly missing the skin.

The door on the other side of the room bursts open and gunfire erupts around me, Bucky, I think, but I am only greeted by more Russian. Scrambling, I duck behind one of the office chairs for any kind of cover, bullets coming from both sides. One of them just misses by mere millimetres and punches a hole through the soft backrest of the chair.

It is then that I pick up what the agents are saying. It’s only bits and pieces, broken sentences, but I hear hostage and leverage and take her alive and then I hear winter soldier. And I understand.

“I can’t get to her, Steve, I can’t – I don’t know how –“ I hear him over comms. I can’t allow him to get down here. They can’t get him.

“We’re gonna get her out of there, Buck, just –“

“Listen to me!”, I grunt as an agent slams me to the ground and I barely roll out of the way of his fist coming down.

“They’re here for Barnes, you can’t come down here, they are only here for you, you need to leave –“

“I am not. Leaving you, Jones.” Bucky growls.

“It’s a fucking trap, Barnes! Quit playing hero and get out of –“ A bullet catches me in the abdomen and all the air leaves my lungs in a pained yelp.

“There’s too many of ‘em, Steve, she can’t take ‘em all!”, I hear Sam’s voice in my ear.

They’re closing in now. I scramble for my gun, but someone kicks it away against the wall. I curse and grab the knife from my belt, slashing at the arms that try to grab me. I lost track of the entire situation, I don’t know how many are in the room with me and the low, thrumming feeling of despair in my stomach tells me what I already know. I am not escaping this. I can’t get out.

“Leave,” I croak over comms again, trying desperately to at least have him not run into this trap like I did.

“Please, you need to leave –“ a second bullet pierces my shoulder and I hiss at the sharp pain erupting in my upper body.

“No fucking way, Jones.”

“Buck she’s right, this is exactly what they want, we have to find another way!”

A fist meets my jaw, my head snaps back against the wall and I taste blood from where I bit my tongue. I try to deflect the next blow but the knife in my hand swings wide, then someone twists it out of my grasp. I look up into cold, green eyes.

“Jones? Jones, do you copy?”, Bucky’s desperate voice shouts into my ear and I pray to anyone who will listen that he stays far away from these people, that Steve has some common sense. He can’t allow them to take him.

Another fist throws my head against the wall and I feel a light, warm trickle of blood tingling in my hairline. My vision is blurry. The faces before me swim and merge into one, then break apart into a million.

“Please”, I whisper.

“Jones? Tell me you’re still there. Please, Jones, I –“

“You need to leave, Bucky, please –“

I feel myself being lifted up from the ground, hands under my arms, my feet dragging on the ground. The wound makes my shoulders scream in pain. I think I’m crying.

“Promise he’ll be safe”, I manage to get out. A slap against my bruised cheek. “Stop talking”, one of the agents commands in broken English.

“Nobody will hurt him, Jones.” Steve answers calmly, but I can hear the fear below.

“No, Jones, no, please, Steve we have to help her –“

Muffled voices around me. Pain shooting through my shoulder and abdomen, my head pounding.

“Jones, please, answer me.”

My throat refuses to work. The agents keep dragging me down the hall. My eyes flutter closed.

“Jones?” Bucky’s desperate voice pierces my heart. But he will be safe. I know Steve will make sure of it.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.” Tears push past my eyelids. He will be safe, I keep telling myself.

“Baby, please, I’m begging you –“, a muffled sob shoots through comms and my heart breaks for him. There is so much I want to tell him, but I can’t bring my mouth to obey me. The air around me changes, the stuffiness of the basement gives way to something cleaner, more polished. They will take me and hold me hostage for the others to come save me. This is all part of their plan; it must have been from the beginning. I can’t allow them to use me to get to Bucky. He has worked so hard to be free from HYDRA, it can’t all have been for nothing.

I feel myself being placed on the bottom of a van, the motor rumbling through the metal beneath me. My eyes blink open. I can’t let them use me. The man next to me has his gun leisurely dangling from his hand. With all the strength left in me, I push myself up into a kneeling position and grab the weapon.

I repeat the words in my head like a mantra, I can’t let them use me, fear rushes over me as I put the gun against my temple and try to pull the trigger, but my fingers slip, the last bit of strength I had leaving me when I need it the most. The men around start to shout, the nearest one kicks the gun out of my hand. Another one pushes me to the ground. I know they will use me. And I can’t stop them.

“I’m sorry, Bucky”, I whisper before they rip the earpiece out. My last link to him gone. I sink down to the ground and something heavy hits my head, sending me into oblivion.

*

The first thing I feel is the light. It sticks pinpricks through my lids, no matter how hard I clench them shut. Artificial light piercing my brain.

The second thing I feel is the pain. My whole body aches as if I’ve been run over by a truck. I can feel the place my head hit the wall, the blood now crusty and tugging on single hairs in my neck. I feel the gunshot wounds on my shoulder and my abdomen, searing pain creeping through my body.

The third thing is the cold. They stripped me down to my underwear. I shiver against the freezing metal chair beneath me. Drawing a slow, wheezing breath I dare to open my eyes.

More sharp, artificial light. A tiled room. Someone standing over in the corner across from me, casually leaning against the wall in stark contrast to the environment. Glancing to the left and right, sensing the empty space behind me, I seem to be sitting in the middle of the chamber. I breathe in and out again, coughing as the air hitches in my dry throat.

“Oh, you have awoken”, a voice rasps in broken English and it takes me a few seconds to realise it belongs to the person across from me. The man saunters over to my chair and stops just short of touching my knees. I have to look up at him. He wears a lazy smile and his green eyes glint in the harsh lighting. My mind flashes back to earlier in the basement. The same cold, green eyes. His tac suit has been exchanged for something more put together, a collared shirt and suit pants. He feels overdressed.

He curls a calloused finger around my chin and lifts my face higher until my neck hurts from the unnatural angle. The muscles in my shoulder twitch and a pained whine escapes my lips. It only broadens his smile. I hate myself for it. I want to scream at him, claw his eyes out, punch him, anything. But my body won’t obey me, and I’m strapped to a chair.

His fingers stroke my chin and I turn my head away to somehow try and escape his touch. “Now now, don’t get all pouty on me.”

I keep my eyes locked onto a chipped tile in the wall. It has the tiniest piece broken out of it, in the top right corner.

“Pretty thing”, the agent whispers above me and a chill runs down my spine. I don’t want to know what comes next.

His hand slides over to the back of my head where my hair is still caked in blood.

The crack in the tile almost has the shape of a star if you look at it the right way. Like the star that used to be on Bucky’s arm, my delirious brain thinks. God, I hope he stays as far away from these people as possible.

“They will come get you, pretty girl, and then he will be ours again.” Please god, make him stay away from them.

“Maybe we can have him kill you. Just for fun.”

He told me what they did to him, once. On a balcony at Stark Tower, at three a.m.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Bucky’s metal fingers clink onto the railing as he steps out to the balcony.

I shake my head. “Nah.”

The sounds of New York at night-time are rushing below us like a river, dampened only by the height we are standing at.

“Tough mission?”, he asks, and I nod absentmindedly. Too much death. Too many casualties. It was supposed to be a stealth mission in an empty warehouse and then suddenly it was outside. Crowded. The screams and looks of terror are still burnt into my brain.

I sigh and turn around, elbows propped up on the railing. I look over to him on my left.

“And you? Tough mission?”, I repeat his question.

He shakes his head. “Nightmare.”

His eyes are underlined in dark purple, his hair a mess, he is standing out here in a pair of sweatpants and a dark shirt. Must have just gotten up. He notices me studying him and looks over. I lift an eyebrow.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I can see him hesitate. His eyes dart over my face. “Intense stuff. Wouldn’t wanna keep you awake with it, too.”

I snort. “Not like I can sleep anyways.”

My eyes fall to the scratch on my arm. “I just …” Sometimes I feel like I don’t suffer enough for all the lives I fail to save. I don’t dare tell him.

“I heard what happened today.” His low rumbling voice smoothes over a rough patch on my heart, and suddenly the lump in my throat is just the tiniest bit smaller.

“There weren’t supposed to be civilians.”

I close my fists and feel the familiar sting of the nails pressing into the soft skin of my palm.

“It was supposed to be a quick mission. In, out. Just the files. No death. And especially no civilians.”

He extends a hand to my left fist and carefully pries it open. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

I look at the red crescent moons my nails left in my skin and can’t help but remember the red hole in a young woman’s forehead. My stomach lurches and I press my hand over my mouth, biting my tongue. Tasting blood.

“It’s not your fault.”

I want to believe him so, so bad.

“How do you know?” My eyes search his face for something, anything to reassure me in the fact that I couldn’t have saved them.

“How do you know I couldn’t have done better?”

His fingers still cradle mine and rub calming circles over my hand.

“Because I know you by now, Jones. And I know you always give your all.”

But it’s not enough.

“You can’t do more than that, Jones. None of us can. All we can do is do our best and save as many people as possible.”

The screams still won’t leave my brain, though.

“I see them when I close my eyes, Barnes. I see their scared faces, their still faces, empty eyes turned upwards and I can’t –“ A violent sob breaks out from my body and I curl my arms around my chest, trying to keep myself from falling apart.

Bucky slowly walks over until he’s standing in front of me, gently placing his hands on my arms.

“Jones. Hey.”

But all I hear is screams of innocent people, all I see is lives cut short. My knees give.

He catches me as I fall and then we’re sitting across from each other on the metal floor.

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve to have this, Barnes, to live, while all their lives ended before their time”, I manage to push out. I never told anyone this before. But I feel like he would understand.

“Hey, look at me, J.”

I try to steady my breathing and look up into his slate grey eyes, cool and soothing. For a few seconds, we just sit there silently, no words, as the hiccup sobs die down slowly.

“This is our job, Jones, we try to save as many people as we can. Think about how many more had died if you hadn’t been there.”

“None, Barnes. If I hadn’t been there, if there had been no mission, they would have just continued living their lives.”

He sighs.

We don’t talk for a while. Above us the dark night sky of New York, below us the bustling nightlife.

“You still wanna know about my nightmare?”

I look up at him, pulling my arms tightly around myself. And nod.

With a sharp twinge of pain, I get pulled out of my memories.

“You listen when I talk to you, bitch.”

Three other men have moved into the cell, one of them stepping close to the agent in front of me and quietly talking to him. I can’t make out the words, but as the agent steps back, the man before me is smiling a violent smile. I can see a chipped front tooth.

“They will come get you, darling, they just need a little motivation.”

I feel the punch coming. It still hits me unprepared, head flying backwards as pain blooms from my jaw. My ears are ringing.

The agent pushes back his sleeves and pulls a phone out from his pockets.

“Look alive”, he trills as the sharp light of a camera flash hits me. I squint too late, shapes dancing over my closed lids. A second punch hits me, the eye this time. Suit-guy chuckles gleefully as he slowly stalks around me. When he crouches down next to the chair, I shiver, his lips against my ear.

“You know what we will do now, darling?”

I couldn’t answer if I wanted to. Flashes of torture ghost through my head and sickening fear crawls up the walls of my stomach.

“We’re gonna call your friends and see if that doesn’t quicken their pace. I don’t wanna sit around here waiting for Mr. Barnes to show up. We got work to do.”

My stomach lurches. “No”, I cry, and “Please”, but he just grins down at me menacingly, holding the phone out in front of him.

The room is silent except for the beeping of the call. He put the phone on speaker.

“Who is this”, Bucky’s voice shoots out after not more than three seconds and I have to bite my tongue to not cry out.

“I’m sure you figured that out by yourself, Sergeant. We have something you want. Come and get it.”

Biting my lip, I shake my head. Please don’t come. Please.

“Where the fuck is she”, Bucky growls through the speaker, and I can almost see him clench his teeth.

“Oh, don’t worry, she is right here. Darling, won’t you say hello to your friends?”

I press my lips together and glare at him. In the background, I can hear low voices, Steve, and Tony too.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know she is alive.”

One of the agents steps behind me and places both hands on my shoulders, thumb pressing into the wound. I feel the bullet under my skin, wedged deep into the flesh. White-hot pain shoots through my body and I wince, desperately trying to be quiet. I can’t give them what they want.

“Listen to me, Barnes. Here’s what is gonna happen. You will come to a location I will send you shortly, and you will come alone. You won’t put up a fight and then, maybe, we will let her go.”

The cold, thin blade of a knife is placed against my throat and my breath hitches. My nails push into my palms as I try to stay quiet, refusing to make this any easier for them.

But then the agent pushes his thumb back into my shoulder. And I can’t move away because of the blade at my throat, and I try, I try so hard not to make a sound, but the pain is blinding, and I cry out.

“See, she is here. Stubborn though, I see why you like her –“

“I will kill each and every one of you. I will make you suffer until you wish you never set foot on this godforsaken continent.“

“Fine by me. As long as you come alone. We can take you, Barnes. You’re not invincible.”

And with that, he ends the call.

The knife is removed from my throat. The thumb from my shoulder. And I hate myself. I should have pushed against the blade. They would’ve stopped, they need me alive. Instead, I caved. Made him hear me.

Because I know he will come. But I also know he will be blind with fury, and they will take him, and make him their Soldier again. All because of me.

“See, darling, that wasn’t too hard, now, was it?”

Slow, hot tears roll over my cheeks. He has the audacity to wipe them away.

“It’s amazing what love can do to people. Almost too easy to break him, now.”

I scoff. Love. “The fuck do you know about love”, I snarl at him, and he smiles, as he crouches down again.

“Enough to see it in people. Enough to use it to my advantage.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

He downright wheezes with laughter, and I hear the others chuckle underneath their breath.

“Sure he doesn’t. And here I was, thinking you were smart …”

He doesn’t love me. I’m his partner, part of the team, he’d do this for anyone. We stick our heads out for one another, it’s just how this works.

“I guess I should thank you, darling”, he muses as he gets up and saunters off to the door. “You made this almost too easy for us. He’s gonna walk right into our trap, the fool. All heart-eyes and blind.”

He stops before leaving and turns around in the doorway. “The best part of all this is that he thinks he’s saving you.”

I look at him, head pounding.

“He thinks we’ll let you go when he’s here. I don’t see why we should. Two flies with one stone, you know. No, we’re gonna bring the Soldier out, and then he will kill you. Slowly, and painfully. See, that’s the best part. He knows what he’s doing, deep down. He’ll know. He just won’t be able to do anything against it.”

With that, he turns to leave.

“Hey, Viper”, one of the agents calls after him as they begin to leave the room.

“Lemme play with her a bit?”

The “Viper” seems to contemplate, before shrugging.

“Sure, why not. Just don’t break her. We don’t want her dead too early now, do we?”

A shuddering fear runs up my spine. The others leave the room, save the one who asked. As he closes the door behind him, a wicked smile on his face, for the first time I truly understand what HYDRA does to hostages.

*

My throat is hoarse and dry from screaming. Every single muscle in my body is aching, the sharp pain of the gunshots burnt down to a dull, rolling pain. I can barely keep my eyes open, drifting in and out of consciousness.

The agent before me grins violently, teeth bared. He opens his mouth, but I can’t hear, it feels like my head is wrapped in cotton. He drags a knife along my shoulder, my arms, down to my wrist, just enough to make me feel it. The cut is shallow, a burning line along my body. It barely registers. I feel like I am floating above myself, looking at the scene from a stranger’s perspective. Out of touch. Aloof.

He slaps me. I know my head flies to the side, I know blood spatters onto the ground. I know all this. But I don’t feel it. My wrists are still bound. They’ve gone numb by now.

After the first hour, I couldn’t cry anymore. After the second hour, I couldn’t scream anymore.

He left me then, for a while, leaving me to drift into merciful, dreamless unconsciousness. Then he was back. He looks like a shark in bloodied water, frenzied, thirsty for the pain he greedily drinks out of my voice, my eyes, the way my body reacts without me having any say in it.

I lose track of time. The windowless room, tiled top to bottom, claws at my sense of orientation and slowly pulls the ground from under my feet. It feels like days since I last saw daylight.

This was not how the mission was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a small thing. Minor hostage situation, yes, high stakes, sure, but nothing the four of us couldn’t handle. Nothing HYDRA, just a drug cartel. We went in fully prepared. But then it went tits up, too many opponents, more than there were supposed to be.

My nose registers a sharp smell, something wet touches my nose. My conscience is being dragged back to earth, to this broken room, this broken body. My eyes flutter open.

“Don’t you fall asleep on me, pretty.” He is back. His shark grin broadens as he sees my eyes register him.

“Can’t blame the Soldier for wanting a piece of this.” His fingers slide along my face, curl around my chin to lift it up so I look him in the eyes.

“You know, I been thinkin’, why should we let him kill a pretty thing like you right away? It’s not like we get girls this easy ‘round here often. Gotta use the opportunity.”

My stomach roils and I can taste bile in the back of my throat. Please, no. Not this. Please.

His hands let go of my jaw and glide lower, over the sweat-and-blood-soaked underwear they graciously left me, and he pushes my legs apart. I am shaking, I realise, I can’t even stop myself. Cold terror washes over me at the sight of his hungry eyes. He reaches out to grab my hips.

And then everything happens all at once.

A metal arm wraps around his throat, lifting him up away from me and sending his hands scrambling to free himself.

“Touch her again and I will rip you limb from limb.”

The arm sends him flying against the wall, a sickeningly wet thud as his head impacts.

And then he’s there. I must be hallucinating. He is there, and he is alive, and he is himself. He is there. Bucky’s there.

“Fuck, Lizzie, please tell me you’re still in there. Please.” He sinks to his knees and cups my face gently, so gently. It can’t be real. I can only stare at him, drink him in, some kind of fever dream.

“Baby”, he whispers. His hands reach behind me to cut the rope they bound me with, and the lack of suspense sends me falling. But he catches me. I can feel his hands keep me from crashing to the floor and a tiny piece of me returns. He is real. He is here, Bucky is here, and they didn’t make him the Soldier again and he came. He came to save me.

“We need to hurry, this place will be crawling with agents in a few.” I recognise Steve’s voice and as my eyes blink into focus, I see him guarding the door.

They came for me. I’m still shaking, I realise, as I feel my teeth chatter against each other. Bucky’s eyes look heartbroken.

“Can you stand, Lizzie?”

I don’t trust my knees. I don’t trust my voice, either. Bucky takes that as a no.

“I will have to carry you, baby. Is that okay? We have to get you out of here.”

“Buck”, Steve’s voice is cold with warning.

I nod. I can do that, so I nod, the tiniest movement. But he understands.

Slowly, he stands back up, hands still holding me so I don’t double over, and he ever so carefully picks me up, cradling me against his chest. I feel his steady heartbeat through is tac suit. It feels like it slowly drums the life back into my body, pushing the numbness further and further away. God, my feet are cold. My whole body is cold. No wonder I’m shaking.

He carries me out of the room with Steve walking ahead. I curl up against him, closing my eyes against the bright neon lights above. I am safe now, right?

Right?

Shots echo in front of us. Bucky pulls me against him further.

“It’s okay, Lizzie. Everything will be okay. I got you now.”

“All clear”, Steve comments, catching his shield, and we continue. My head is thrumming. The feeling slowly returns to my body but with it returns the pain.

We round a corner and Bucky curses, ducking back around it and shielding me from the gunfire ahead. His metal arm pushes against my wounded shoulder and I cry out, cold sweat coating my forehead. Then it’s quiet again. Inside, my head feels like it’s about to burst.

We round another corner. Fast footfalls follow, then an impact. We tumble and he pulls me against his chest as we fall, but my head meets the ground with an angry thud. Black dots dance over my cloudy vision and Bucky snarls on top of me. The sounds of fighting ensue. I can only lay there, breathing shallow, feeling warm blood trickle down my head, wound newly torn open.

Then he is above me again, hands cradling my face.

“No, Lizzie, stay with me”, he whispers as my eyes flutter shut.

“You have to stay with me, please. Baby, please. Look at me.”

But the warm darkness is so welcoming, if I could just let myself fall …

“Lizzie, baby … please, I need you to stay with me.”

His hands pick me up so carefully, pulling me close against his chest again.

“I need you to stay awake, Lizzie. Please.”

I want to, so bad. But I can’t will my eyes to open. The darkness is all over me now. And I let go.

*

Dark, thick boots in front of me, barking voices, a hand grabbing me by the throat and pulling me up, up, up, until I look into a shark-toothed smile again.

“When I’m done with you, pretty, you’re gonna wish we’d let him kill you.”

Tears roll over my cheeks as he grabs my shoulders, knees giving out from under me as I crash onto the ground, the pain, god the pain, I can’t take it anymore, it’s too much, please let it end, please –

I startle awake, hands frantically pushing up until I’m sitting. Breathing heavy, fists curled up into something soft. The room is warm, welcoming even. There’s no sound apart from my breaths. I am alone. That’s good. Nobody can hurt me if I’m alone.

Then the pain registers and my upper body implodes. I gasp and my arms give out from under me, having me fall back down to the bed.

There’s a knock at the door. It startles me, and immediately I am on high alerts again.

But HYDRA wouldn’t knock.

“Yes?”, I try to say, and wince at how quietly and croaky it comes out.

Nevertheless, the door opens, revealing a tousled head of red hair. Natasha.

“Hey, Jones.” She’s quiet as if trying not to spook me. Like a wounded animal. “How are you?”

I look around the room. This must be Stark Tower. The peace is in such harsh contrast to the last … hours? Days? I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real. How am I supposed to know if this is happening? If it’s really, truly happening, or if I’m just hallucinating? But Bucky saved me. Right?

“Is this real?”, I rasp out. Natasha studies me carefully.

“Will you believe me if I say yes?”

I don’t know, will I? But would it be so bad if it was a dream? It’s so quiet.

“Where are the others?”, I ask. Where is Bucky?, I mean.

“Safe.” She understands. “Strewn all over Stark Tower, working to shut that base down they kept you at.” She slowly approaches me, studying my face.

I try and carefully sit up, much to the dismay of my ruined muscles.

“How did – why were – what happened?”, I try to form a coherent sentence.

“Well, for starters, going in alone anywhere in this kind of situation is a no-go, so fuck that.” She wears a half-smile, pulling a chair over so she can sit, far enough from the bed to give me my space.

“I’m not gonna bore you with the details here, but long story short, someone kidnapped our friend, and we kicked their asses.”

I attempt a smile. Not sure if it works, if it doesn’t, Natasha doesn’t let on.

My throat is dry. I can’t remember the last time I drank something, I realise, right before my lungs explode into a coughing fit. The gunshot wounds pulse red-hot pain through my body and I collapse onto the bed again.

“It’s okay, Liz, here. You’ll be okay.” She reaches over and grabs a glass of water from the nightstand, before handing it to me and carefully stabilising my upper body. The cool water runs through my parched mouth and somehow it calms my panicked nerves.

Right as she places the glass back on the nightstand, the door opens again, gently, and a small whimper leaves my throat as I see him. He’s safe. He’s here with me and he is safe.

His eyes widen. “Thank god you’re awake”, he breathes and rushes over, falling to his knees next to the bed.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

My hands reach out to him and he grabs my fingers, carefully pulling them close. Something inside me shatters.

“You’re safe, you’re okay, thank god you’re okay, I –“, my words fail me as I break into sobs, “I failed you, Bucky, it was all my fault, I –“

He looks up into my eyes. “Shh. Don’t say that. I’m just glad you’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

*

It’s better, now. I don’t question my sanity anymore, my reality. When I wake up at night, drenched in cold sweat, asking FRIDAY who is on my floor and she tells me it’s Steve, or Natasha, or Bucky, I believe her. I know they can’t get to me anymore.

But I have gotten wary. Paranoid, even. Sometimes I ask FRIDAY to list the people in the tower over, and over, and over again. She does. An AI’s patience, I guess. I still wake up in the middle of the night, throat screamed hoarse, seeing monsters in the shadows. Or in the too-bright lights. Feel phantom fingers press into my shoulder and force my legs apart.

The gunshots have healed well, thanks to the skilled hands of the Stark Tower’s med bay. They still hurt, sometimes. It’ll be a wrong movement and a twinge of pain will shoot through my shoulder or my stomach. I’ll grimace and pull through.

There’s new rules, too. Nobody goes in alone. Anywhere. Ever.

And I’ve been avoiding Bucky. He spent the first days keeping vigilant watch, at my bedside or outside the door. His absence hurts somewhere deep inside of me, a deeper pain than the gunshots, something the pain killers can’t reach. But I can’t look him in the eyes. If I hadn’t gone into the basement alone, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have endangered him.

There is an empty feeling in my chest that I will start to notice whenever it gets too quiet, whenever my brain has time to roam. I miss him. I miss our late night balcony talks when we both can’t sleep. I miss the bickering at the start and end of successful missions. But I can’t go back on missions yet. And worse than missing him is the guilt.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, told me it wasn’t my fault. Steve got all emotional. Fury short and to the point. Natasha with a sharp look in her eye. She understood. To Sam I almost spilled my heart out, he has that effect on people. And of course, Bucky. Again, and again. In the first days, when he didn’t leave me for longer than two hours, and later on, too. The few times we do meet in a hallway, when my eyes look anywhere but into his. I know he says it to ease my mind. I know that he probably even believes it, but I can’t.

He told me, once, that he remembers every single person he killed while under HYDRA’s influence. Every target, every civilian that got into the crossfire. He told me of the torture they put him through. The cryo. And because of me, he almost fell back into their grasp. And I just can’t make myself not feel guilty about it.

Some days I wordlessly stand on Sam’s doorstep, running shoes in hand, hair in a ponytail. I think he understands the need to run from my thoughts, from my brain writhing and clawing at itself. I know he wants to talk about it. He knows I don’t. And he won’t push.

The gym is empty as I step into it quietly, pulling the door closed behind my back. My eyes roam around the room.

“FRIDAY, anyone in here with me?”

A short pause, then: “You are currently the only person on this floor, Agent Jones.”

I breathe out the air I held in anticipation. I go look for a place slightly out of sight from the door, that still allows me to quickly observe the entire room. Waiting for another few seconds, I ask FRIDAY again. Still alone. Just me.

Mechanically, I go through stretches. Lunges. Sit-ups. I don’t listen to music while working out anymore, too distracting. Too easy to be surprised. Instead, I concentrate on the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Still, my mind wanders. The last couple of missions have not been great. Mostly successful, yes, but too many casualties. Not to mention the last one. I was clumsy. Careless. Not quick enough, not strong enough. Not good enough.

I find a punching bag and let loose on it. Throwing punch after punch, blow after blow, until I’m panting and sweat is dripping off my forehead, plastering strands of hair onto my skin.

Next punch.

Crying hostages.

My fist flies into the bag again.

A young woman running in front of me, staggering in her panic, then a stray bullet hits her in the head. Her vacant eyes come to rest on me as she falls.

My knuckles curl and I punch the bad again.

Bucky’s voice over my earpiece, pleading, begging.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.”

Skin connecting with fabric.

A green-eyed agent, sneering down at me.

“You made this almost too easy for us. He’s gonna walk right into our trap, the fool.”

I grit my teeth and my fists meet the bag again.

And again.

And again.

Dark spots dancing before my eyes.

I continue. It’s all my fault. It wouldn’t have happened if I had been stronger.

One more punch.

If I had been faster.

I feel myself swaying.

I’m not good enough.

*

I’m not out for long. My first thought when I come to results in a frantic question to FRIDAY.

The AI answers patiently. “You are currently the only person on this floor, Agent Jones.”

Same answer as always. It’s soothing, a sense of normality. Of routine. I take a look at the clock. Nine p.m. Time to take a shower and go to bed, I suppose. Not that I expect to be able to sleep. Walking to the elevator, I contemplate having Natasha knock me out cold so that I can for once experience the benevolent veil of unconsciousness.

Halfway up to my floor, the elevator stops and the doors open. Immediately I step into a defensive stance before I realise it’s just Steve. Just sweet, kind Steve, whose heart I can see break in slow motion when he sees my reaction.

“Hey, Liz.”

I sigh and my shoulders drop.

“You okay?”

I’m not sure if I will ever be the same. I’m not sure if I will ever not flinch anymore when someone I didn’t spot moves too quickly. I’m not sure if I can ever look Bucky in the eyes again. I’m not sure –

“Yeah.” I attempt a smile, but it crumbles before it can become convincing.

The elevator picks up speed and Steve leans against the wall.

“I feel like things between you and Buck have been … strained, lately.”

Putting on my best façade, I throw an innocent look his way.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, lifting his eyebrows at me, but indulging my little act.

“The two of you were different, before. Partners. Joking around, and I do understand it’s hard to fall back into it after what you went through, but Bucky …”

My eyes snap towards him.

“… I don’t know. It’s not my place to say anything.”

Whatever the hell that is supposed to mean.

“Everything is fine between Barnes and me, Steve. Same as before. I just don’t go on missions yet, so we don’t see each other as often. Right?”

He studies me for a moment, arms crossed.

“Right.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

When the elevator stops again, we’re on my floor, and I make my way out of the doors. Just before they slide closed again, Steve puts his foot between them.

“Liz, wait.”

I turn around, back against the wall.

“I just …” He struggles with what to say and what to keep to himself.

“Don’t let this ruin something good. Don’t let them break you, still.”

There is an ache in my chest. Deep-rooted, a few inches below my left shoulder.

“Yeah”, I manage. He studies me for a few more seconds, then he steps back and lets the elevator close between us. As soon as he is out of sight, my shoulders slump forward. Don’t let them break you, he says. They already did.

*

I wake up with a gasp. Silent terror behind my eyes. My brain making up scenarios.

Bucky came alone in this one. Unarmed. Prepared to offer himself up for me to be let go, but I know they won’t. They told me.

So they take him, and break him, and then they let him loose on me. I don’t have enough strength to run, to fight. Not like I could.

He is upon me quickly, metal arm around my throat, squeezing until there are tears escaping from my eyes.

But his eyes are his own. Tortured look behind the cold façade, eyes wide in terror. I can see he knows what he is doing. The panic of not being able to stop his body from complying.

I shake my head. Brush my hair off my sweaty face. The usual question to FRIDAY. The usual answer.

My gym clothes are still lying in a pile on the ground next to my bed and I slip into them. Need to get the images out of my head. Try to, at least.

The gym is empty. No surprise, if I am honest, it’s the middle of the night. The same time Bucky and I used to meet on a balcony, each fighting our own ghosts.

I find the punching bag again. It feels good to have an impact on something, an ounce of control over something that can’t hurt me. My muscles still burn from the last time I was down here. The bag gets pushed to the left, to the right, and I feel the skin on my knuckles heat up. Then crack open. The sharp pain crawling over my hands feels good, too. It is nothing, compared to the pain I put innocent people through. To the pain I almost put Bucky through.

The familiar dark, dancing spots creep into my vision. They beckon me with honeyed lips to give in, and I grit my teeth through the oncoming dizziness.

Behind me, a door falls shut, and I flinch and whirl around, staggering at the too-quick movement. Dark hair, slate eyes, underlined in violet. Bucky, my brain registers, before my vision blacks out for a second and I feel my knees connect with the mat below me.

He’s there in an instant, hands steadying my shoulders. The touch sends shivers down my arms. My vision clears again, and I attempt a carefree expression. The look on his face tells me he is not convinced.

“It’s fine. I’m fine”, I try to tell him with a reassuring smile.

He is on his knees before me, reluctantly letting my shoulders go. Eyes still studying my face, he huffs out a breath of air.

“So are you gonna tell me what you’re doing down here in the middle of the night?” He sits back onto his heels, still kneeling on the ground. I want to reach for him, touch him, pull him so close to me that nobody will ever get to him. Instead,, I just curl my hands into fists and cock an eyebrow at him.

“What about you?”

“Can’t sleep”, he explains, and I shrug.

“Well, there you have it.”

I can’t look directly into his eyes. He is too good at reading people, something born from trauma and survival instinct.

His hands are resting on his folded legs, metal fingers calm on top of his right hand. He’s wearing his “I woke up in the middle of the night and can’t sleep” outfit, sweatpants and a black shirt. Reminds me of the nights spent talking on the balcony. It’s like HYDRA took this from me, too, this small refuge after a day spent trying and failing to save people. The time he spent putting all the pieces of myself back together.

“So you go down here and punch a bag until you collapse?”

I shrug again, trying to keep the raging storm that is my mind inside for nobody else to see. His shoulders sag a little and he angles his head so that he can look me in the eyes.

“Can you at least look at me, Lizzie?”

Something compels me to do so. Maybe it’s the pet name. He is the only one who ever calls me Lizzie, everyone else says Liz, or J, or Agent Jones. Bucky usually only uses it when we’re alone. My mind races back to a few weeks ago.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.”

His broken voice replays in my head.

“Baby, please, I’m begging you –“

I only just now realise. He never called me baby before, either. I feel like I’m missing something, like the pieces are there, just out of my reach. It frustrates me.

“You’re not fine, are you?”, his smooth voice is the last straw, gently pushing into the walls I put around my heart in the last few weeks until they burst. There’s a lump the size of a tennis ball in my throat as my breath hitches and my shoulders sag and then hot tears spill out of my eyes and I can’t stop it from happening.

“Lizzie, no, hey, come here.” He holds his arms wide open and waits for me to give him permission to touch me. No pressure, just an offer. I feel my hands reach out and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest. My fists clench into the soft fabric of his shirt and I curl up tighter around my aching chest. He just holds me. Gentle hands stroking soothingly over my back, up, down, up again, down again. And fuck, he feels like home.

The sobs die down into quiet hitching breaths, dull stitches in my sides. Bucky remains where he is, not saying a word, just holding me.

“I feel like they broke me”, I finally gather the air to whisper into his chest. He presses his lips against my hairline, silently waiting for me to continue.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

He stirs, then.

“What for?”

“I let you down.”

It’s the first time I am saying this to anyone. I don’t know what it is that makes me tell him, of all people. But it feels right.

“No, Lizzie, you didn’t.”

I look up, blinking the tears away until I can see his eyes.

“I put you in danger. They almost got to you because of me.”

Bucky sighs. “They almost got to me through you. Not because. None of this was your fault, you know?”

I roll my eyes. “Everyone keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault and yet I let them take me, and I was the reason you came to them and for some reason, you got fucking lucky enough to not fall right back into their hands!”

His face is calm, collected, even, but I see the pain in his eyes.

“None of that happened because of you. It happened to you. What were you supposed to do, fight ten of them and get out unscathed? Nobody does that, Lizzie. It was a damn trap.”

I fist my hands into his shirt. “And I walked right fucking into it, didn’t I?”

“We all did. I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“You don’t get it, do you? It was my fault. I knew something was wrong and I stayed down there in that goddamn basement!”

“What did you do wrong?”

I pause. He looks directly at me, eyes locked onto mine. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

Something inside me cracks.

“I let them take me even though I knew they would use me to get to you.”

My fingers are still closed into his shirt. “I tried to fight them off, I even tried to –“ My voice breaks and I swallow against the lump in my throat.

“I knew they needed me alive, so I …”

His eyes are studying me carefully and I can see the slow realisation of what I am about to tell him dawn in the back of his mind.

“One of them was careless with his gun. I tried to put a bullet through my head”, I whisper, not daring to look at him.

He inhales sharply. “Lizzie, no …”

“I was too slow.”

“Baby …”, he whispers, in a voice I have never heard from him before. He sounds small. Broken.

His arms wrap around me carefully, as if scared I might shatter if he pushes too hard. His scent envelops me, pines and leather and metal, underlined by clean linen and sweat. It’s strangely soothing.

“Please promise me you won’t do that again. I can’t – I wouldn’t even know what to do without you.”

My hand flattens against his chest, heart pounding underneath.

“It wasn’t your fault”, I whisper against him.

“No, it was. They were there for me. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

I want to grab him by the shirt and shake him, remind him it’s not his fault, it’s them, that he never did anything wrong. Instead, I just shake my head.

“We weren’t careful enough, Lizzie. We should all have expected it to be a trap. Me, Steve, Sam, too.”

“Don’t say that”, I mutter into his shirt.

“Can I tell you something?”

I nod.

“Can you look at me while I do? Please?”

I sigh, but look up at him, skin itchy from the drying tears.

“You can’t keep putting the blame on yourself whenever something goes wrong.”

My shoulders slump.

“It doesn’t make anything better, you hear me? It doesn’t help anyone. It just makes you sink deeper and deeper into your guilt. And trust me, I know what that’s like.”

He pries my fingers from his shirt and gently folds them open. His thumbs smooth over my palms, circling around the crescent scars in the soft skin.

“There is enough pain in this world, Lizzie. And you’re putting yourself through enough already. Don’t blame yourself for what happens to me, too. It’s not your fault.”

When I fall into bed later, it’s the first time in weeks that I sleep through. Probably just the exhaustion.

*

I lie awake again, the next day. This time I never even fell asleep. There’s too many faces when I close my eyes. Too many screams. The voice of a green-eyed viper.

A noise outside my room spooks me into sitting up. Slow, sluggish steps on the corridor. They stop right in front of my door, then it’s silent.

“FRIDAY, who else is on this floor?”

The AI answers dutifully. “Currently, you and Sergeant Barnes are on this floor, Agent Jones.”

Bucky? It must be Bucky outside, then, anything else security would have picked up on.

A few seconds later, there is a quiet knock. I rub my eyes and fully sit up in the sheets before I answer. The door opens, just far enough for him to stick his head through.

“Heard that you’re awake. Can I come in?” His eyes look haunted.

“Sure.”

I pull the blanket closer to my body as he kneels down next to the bed.

“You can sit on the bed, you know?”

His chin resting on his left arm, he slightly cocks one eyebrow. “I did not.”

But he doesn’t move. He just looks at me and I at him, until his intense gaze gets too much to hold. My eyes roam over his face, the stubble on his chin, the curve of his jaw, the worried lines on his forehead.

“I’m so glad you’re safe”, he whispers, and my eyes return to his.

Something compels me to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, along his temple. His eyelids flutter closed. My palm comes to rest along his cheek, and he melts into the touch, my thumb caressing his cheekbone.

We just stay like this for a few minutes, for once not battling our inner demons. Savouring the peace we have in this moment, knowing the other is safe here.

It’s me who breaks the silence.

“Why’d you sit outside my door?”

He blinks a few times, adjusting to the soft lighting in my room, too bright after the darkness behind closed eyelids.

“Had a bad dream. Wanted to make sure nobody would hurt you”, he mumbles against my wrist. He lifts his right hand and I reach for it, fingers intertwining.

“I’m okay”, I whisper and he squeezes my hand.

“Sometimes I ask FRIDAY if you’re safe”, he admits and I smile. Seems we both use the AI as a support system. Although that’s what she’s there for, I guess.

He’s still kneeling before me and I shake my head.

“Come on, the ground’s a little cold, don’t you think?” I pat the blanket next to me.

“You sure?”, he mumbles and I nod. He sits up, still holding my hand. “I wouldn’t want to – “

I roll my eyes, “I offered, Bucky”, and shoot him a small smile. He shrugs and smiles back, standing up and crawling across the blanket to where I’m leaning against the headboard. The warmth he emits slowly engulfs me and it feels so safe, so much like home, that I move closer to him almost subconsciously.

“C’mere”, he mumbles and tentatively puts his right arm around my shoulders. He pulls me closer until my head lies on his chest. Intuitively, I inhale his scent, so undeniably Bucky, and sigh. Slowly, we both sink deeper and deeper into the bedding until we’re both lying down, and I curl one leg over his, foot threading between his shins. My arm comes to rest over his stomach and I feel his slow, steady breathing. It feels so right, my body against his. Like we’re made for each other.

I feel tempted to shake my head at myself for that thought. I’m tired. No idea how late it is but considering he had woken up, it has to be at least midnight. Probably past that.

“Can you promise me something?” His low voice rumbles in his ribcage, amplified by my ear pressed against his chest.

“Hm?”, I answer, half asleep.

“Next time you wanna punch a bag until your legs give out, tell me?”

I huff against his shirt. There’s a part of me that wants to scream I’m not worth his time, his concern, but the other part just misses him so fucking bad. And I’m just glad to have him back, so I nod.

“Good. Thank you. Now try and sleep, you need it.”

His steady breathing gently lulls me in.

*

The bed next to me is empty when I wake up. Immediately, I jump, heart pounding, but then I hear the shower running. He’s still here. I try to calm myself down again. The shower is turned off, and a few moments later Bucky walks through the door, hair still wet, wearing only his sweatpants. He pauses, towel in hand. A few stray droplets of water catch the light, glistening across his bare chest. I can’t help but follow the trail of muscles down, down, until my eyes get caught on the waistband of his sweatpants. I blink.

“’morning”, I rasp, clearing my throat.

A grin ghosts over his face, and I swear there is a smug glint in his eyes. “Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

A blush creeps up my cheeks and I avert my eyes, stretching to cover up my embarrassment. “Yup.” Had to get caught ogling my team partner, didn’t I.

“For once”, I add.

His smile turns softer then, and he sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad.”

We just sit there for a while, stealing glances at each other’s faces. After what feels like an eternity, he clears his throat. “Breakfast?”

*

My fists fly into the punching bag. This time, it’s not being pushed around. Bucky is standing behind it, holding it firmly in his grasp, watching me closely and giving advice when he sees fit. It’s not the first session we share. Over the last few days, we have developed some sort of a routine, one of us showing up at the other’s room wordlessly, silent terrors behind tired eyes.

My time in the gym has become less self-destructive since, with him there to keep a close watch so I don’t push myself until I black out. Instead, he eases me off my adrenaline high, pulls me back out of my spiralling brain into reality. The time spent with him slowly fills the hole left by our nightly meetings on the balcony. It helps me tire myself out, I get to sleep through most of the times I go to bed afterwards.

“I just remembered something", I start one time we take the elevator back up to our respective floors.

He’s leaning against the wall across from me, elbows propped up on the railing. Sweat still glistening on his forehead, his hair a tousled mess, despite its shortness.

His eyes flicker over to mine. “Hm?”

I clear my throat. “When I was … held hostage by HYDRA, their commander said something, I never quite understood why.”

It feels … unsettling, to talk about that day. Bucky just looks at me patiently, without pressure.

“He said it was amazing what love could do to people.”

Bucky cocks an eyebrow.

“He was talking about you. Us. He said that it was easier to get to you because they had me.”

There is something in his eyes that I can’t quite put my finger on. He looks taken aback, almost. He flexes his right hand, still looking right at me.

“And I told him he was wrong. They thought they had you all figured out, you know? Thought they could convince you to come alone just because they had me, of all people. I mean, I guess Steve would’ve been harder to catch, but you know …”

He still hasn’t said a word. I start to squirm under his gaze, slate eyes intently watching me, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It dawns on me, then, that bringing up HYDRA playing mind games is probably not the best thing. Sure, he knows, but did I have to remind him of that? I want to punch myself at the pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry I brought it up”, I murmur, not daring to meet his eyes. He slowly exhales, and part of the tension seems to leave him.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He attempts a smile. It fails so miserably it almost hurts.

The elevator doors open with a quiet ring. As if being startled awake, Bucky suddenly straightens up and walks through the door, muttering a “Goodnight” under his breath.

I look after him confused, doors sliding closed. It feels like I lost some small part of him. The elevator picks up speed again and I make for the door as it opens on my floor.

*

That night, my dreams are haunted by the pained expression on Bucky’s face, mixed with what my brain pieced together from the few things he told me about his time with HYDRA. I wake up shaking and sit up, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead.

“FRIDAY, can you check in with Sergeant Barnes? If he’s safe?”

“Sergeant Barnes shows no sign of physical distress, Agent Jones.”

Seconds later, there is a knock. I get out of bed and walk over, opening the door. Bucky looks at me with tortured eyes that widen with worry as he takes me in. “You okay?”, he asks softly, lifting a hand to brush my hair out of my face. I nod and take a step back, allowing him into the room. He closes the door behind him and I wrap my arms around my torso, still feeling guilty for the conversation we had earlier.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, as if he doesn’t know where to sit – or if to sit at all. I sit down on the bed and study him for a while. We both start talking at the same time.

“I’m sorry that – “

“I shouldn’t have – “

We stop, sheepish smiles ghosting over both our faces. Something flutters in my chest. It’s quiet then, for a while, until he opens his mouth again.

“I’m sorry that I just left like that. Earlier.”

I shake my head. “No, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step towards me, gesturing over at the bed. “May I?”

I nod, making room for him on the blanket next to me and he sits down, his weight shifting the mattress. He looks like he’s debating something in his mind, torn between one thing and another. I gently touch his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He stills. Then he sighs. It breaks my heart seeing him this way, tense shoulders, eyes lined violet. He draws a slow and deep breath until he looks over at me. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

I blink, startled. He takes my surprise as hesitation and makes to get up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you – ” Before he can get up entirely, I wrap my hand around his wrist. He pauses, eyes flying to my hand and then to my eyes.

“Bucky.” He slowly breathes out. “Of course you can stay.”

I let go of his wrist and crawl up to the headboard, leaning back against it.

“C’mere.”

He follows, but instead of sitting next to me, he lies down, curling up with his head on the pillow. I extend my left leg and he inches closer, left hand coming to rest on my thigh. My left hand finds its way to his shoulder, tracing soothing circles over it and slowly up his neck until my fingertips are tousling his dark hair. I can’t help but muse over its softness. He sighs against my leg and I can almost see the tension leaving him, shoulders slowly slumping.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, barely audible.

“Any time, Bucky.”

*

I wake up later, barely, to his hands stroking my shoulders.

“Lizzie, hey.”

I squint and try to open my eyes further.

“Everything is fine, I just … your back is gonna hurt if you stay like that the whole night.”

I’m still leaning against the headboard.

“Mkay”, I mumble, eyes fluttering closed again. I think I hear him chuckle, then he gently picks me up and places me down on the mattress so that I’m in a proper sleeping position. My eyes blink open again when he comes to rest next to me, face inches from mine. “Thank you”, I whisper, and without thinking about it, I place a kiss on his cheek. The surprised look on his face barely registers with me, before I sink back into unconsciousness.

*

When I wake up again, it’s morning. Bucky has assumed the position I was in last night, leaning against the headboard, a hand softly placed on my shoulder. I look up at him and smile, eyes not yet fully open. He smiles back, the softest look in his eyes.

“Morning, Lizzie.”

I yawn and rub my eyes, rolling onto my back.

“You know, Bucky, I always seem to sleep better when you’re next to me.” My cheeks heat up as soon as the last words leave my mouth and I scramble to say something less embarrassing, I shouldn’t be allowed to talk until I’ve been awake for at least ten minutes, for fucks sake, but then he smiles.

“I do, too.”

The soft morning light makes him look ethereal, his eyes almost silver in the direct sun. He squints down at me, eyes roaming over my face, before settling somewhere below my eye line.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly and I pause, before I sit up, his eyes following every movement. I can’t help but stare at him, painted in golden light, and yet he tells me I’m beautiful.

I move towards him until my knees almost touch his legs. His right hand slowly reaches out, carefully, as if to not startle me, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He cups my cheek, thumb smoothing over my cheekbone and my eyes flutter closed. He moves closer, bedsheets rustling beneath his knees, and then I feel soft lips on mine. The ghost of a kiss pressing against me. My eyes fly open and immediately, he pulls back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – I just – I can’t –“

His hand leaves my cheek and it feels strangely cold. Before he can pull back further, I grab his hand. Gathering all the courage I have, I look him in the eyes.

“Kiss me, Bucky.”

He draws a shaky breath and then he is there, lips pressed against mine. I close my eyes, curling my arms around his neck, and he grabs my hips, pulling me closer, closer, onto his lap. His hands slide over my thighs to the small of my back, and then upwards, until they flatten against my shoulder blades, holding me like he needs me to live. Maybe he does. Maybe I need him, too, I wonder, as my hands find their way into his hair, pulling gently.

He pulls me closer, rocking me against his abdomen and a small, breathless sound escapes my throat. Bucky moans in response, teeth nipping at my lower lip. His tongue follows and I melt into him, hands pulling him closer towards me. Almost on instinct, I roll my hips against him again. His fingers curl into my shirt as he groans, sending a rush of blood down into my core.

We pull apart then, panting, dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. I shudder when his gaze meets mine. We’re still so close to each other, noses almost touching, breaths mingling between us.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do this”, he whispers against my lips, and goosebumps trickle down my spine.

“You have?”

He nods, tongue wetting his lips. His right hand slides up around my neck, thumb smoothing over the sensitive spot right below my ear, following the curve of my jaw. I let my head fall to the side, baring my neck, eyes closing. He places a barely-there kiss against the skin, then another, tracing a line down to my collar bone.

“I’m a simple man, Lizzie. Give me a beautiful woman in a tac suit, and I’m done for.”

I chuckle and open my eyes, facing him as he lifts his head to look at me. “Really that easy, hm?”

He nods earnestly, corners of the mouth twitching up. “If she can also handle a gun? Man …” He sighs. “I suppose I’ve been in the military for too long.”

I shrug. “Well, me too, then.”

One eyebrow shoots up, then he grins, “How long you been here, Lizzie?”

I roll my eyes at him. “You know what I mean, Bucky.”

He acts as if contemplating whether or not he needs me to elaborate, then he gets a smug look on his face. “Yeah, I’ve seen how you look at me sometimes.”

I groan, hiding my face in his shoulder. His low chuckle turns into a hum when my lips meet his throat and I work my way up the same way he just did. My hands on both sides of his face. His fingers curl around my wrists and I look into his eyes.

“It’s not like I do much to hide … anything, really.”

“Anything?” He kisses the palms of my hands, holding them against his face.

“You just look good in black, Buck. Don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

He cracks a crooked grin, looking up at me through his lashes and I draw a shaky breath.

“No, I know. I’m old enough to see when a woman looks at me and likes what she sees.”

I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.

“I’m kidding, Lizzie.”

He pulls me towards him and gently places his lips on mine. I sigh and can’t help but smile into the kiss, fingers playing with his hair. His tongue caresses my lips and I open my mouth to let him in. His hands drop to grab my hips, rocking me against him again and heat shoots through my body, lips suddenly become sloppy and desperate, my hands trying to get a hold of as much of him as possible.

He tips us to the side, keeping me close with his right arm and holding himself up with his left. Then he carefully places me onto the bed, lips never leaving mine. His fingers toy with the hem of my shirt, leaving butterfly touches on the skin below it. His mouth wanders, pressing kisses to the corners of my mouth, the underside of my jaw, underneath my ear, down the curve of my neck.

I bite my lip and my hands curl into his hair, following his movements slowly down my upper body. All the while his hands slowly push up my shirt, exposing the tender skin of my stomach. His fingertips ghost along the underside of my breasts. My breath hitches.

“That okay?”, he mutters into my ear, lips fluttering against my ear. I have to bite back a moan and can only nod. “Talk to me”, he adds.

“Fucking hell, Buck, just take my shirt off.”

He chuckles against my ear and pulls the fabric up, up, over my head. I open my eyes and catch his, roaming over the stretch of skin now exposed to him. He dips his head low to place a kiss on my chest, and then his hands are on my sides, tracing upwards. His thumb rubs over my nipple, cold metal in stark contrast to the fire inside me that he keeps feeding with each touch.

My hands pull on his hair and he moves up to me, lips pressing down and fingers caressing the soft skin. The clash of his cold hands on my chest and his warm lips against mine send a rush of blood into my lower body and I sigh into his mouth, before he leaves again. I complain until his mouth is where his fingers were just seconds before, closing around my hardened nipple, tongue rolling against it. A twinge of pleasure lets the muscles in my stomach contract and I gasp, my back arching up into him, reacting on reflex only.

His hand pushes me back against the bed, his mouth still kissing and nipping on reddened skin. Then he looks up at me and parts my legs with a knee, pushing upwards, gaze fixed on my face. He pushes further and my mouth falls open, making an effort to keep eye contact with him while he moves against me, coaxing a slow moan from deep within me. Still, I am looking directly at him. His lips part. I prop myself up on my elbows and only when my mouth meets his, I close my eyes.

“You’re gonna drive me insane, one day”, he mumbles between kisses and I smile lazily, lowering myself back down.

“Am I, now?”

I like the feeling of having him wrapped around my little finger and he knows it, sees it in the glint in my eyes and the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Hands placed on both sides of my body, he moves his knee against me again and I gasp.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Lizzie.”

Then he dips down, kissing a trail down my stomach until he hits the hem of my sweatpants. He sits back onto his heels and hooks his finger into the waistband, cocking one eyebrow. I nod again, and he pulls them down, off my feet, leaving them to fall somewhere next to the bed. His hands slide up my legs until they meet the line of my panties and my breath hitches when his rough fingers touch the soft skin of my thighs. His lips follow his hands and now I am panting, head falling back when he follows the outline of the fabric against my skin. His hands placed on my thighs, his mouth placing lazy kisses against my stomach, and suddenly his thumbs stroke down my core, my back arching off the bedsheets.

He takes his hands off me, then, and I groan, propping myself up onto my elbows again.

“Quit teasing.”

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.

“Talk to me, Lizzie. What do you want?”

I draw in a shaky breath, looking down at him with heavy eyelids. “Take them off.”

He obeys, pulling the fabric off along my legs and discarding it as well. He looks at me again and I groan, head falling back. He just waits until I’m squirming under him, and even then he doesn’t touch me. I lift my head again and he brings his head down to my thighs, peppering them with small kisses, just enough to make me breathe heavily but not where I actually want him.

“Bucky …”, I whine, and he hums against my skin.

“What do you want, Lizzie?”

“For you to use that snarky tongue of yours.” I get a chuckle from him for that.

“You’re bossy”, he mutters between kisses and I huff, hands closing into the blanket below me. “I like when you’re bossy.”

Before I can complain, he dips his tongue between my legs and licks upwards in one long stroke. I moan loudly before I can bite my tongue, hands flying into his hair. His tongue laps over my clit in a steady rhythm and all the air leaves my lungs, hands scrambling to hold onto something, anything, and clenching into the sheets.

“Bucky …”, I moan his name and he hums against me in response, sending goosebumps down my legs.

“Happy now?”, he teases, before going back to kissing and licking and I chuckle breathlessly.

“Almost.”

This time I don’t have to explain. He understands anyways and slowly slides a finger into me. I almost see stars for a second. Then he curls his finger upwards and I do see stars, the knot inside me coiling tighter and tighter with every lap of his tongue. I press myself against him, relishing in the white-hot pleasure shooting through my body. My back arches off the bed, thighs pressing against his cheeks. His left hand holds me in place and he adds a second finger, following the rhythm set by his tongue. I whisper his name over, and over, and over, like a prayer, and he responds with a hum, tingling against my overly sensitive skin.

He slightly changes the angle of his fingers and I gasp, the rising feeling inside me almost at its peak.

“Bucky, wait –“, I pant, and he stops immediately, lifting his head, concerned eyes meeting mine.

“If you go on like this I can’t promise to keep it together much longer.”

He licks his lips, the sight of him between my legs alone almost enough to send me spiralling. “I don’t mind.” He dips down again and I moan loudly and pull at his hair to get him to look at me again. He looks up at me, continuing to move his fingers and I swear I’m going crazy.

“But I do”, I pant, and he stops. I tug at his hair again and he pulls his fingers out of me, before crawling up to meet me. I sigh into the kiss, butterflies in my stomach at the taste of his tongue. I pull back just enough.

“I do, because I want you, Bucky.” He blinks, inhaling sharply.

“You sure?”

I kiss him in return, not bothering with a vocal answer. He takes it as a yes, kiss deepening as my fingers fumble along the hemline of his black shirt. He leans back, takes it off, and comes back to me again.

“You got a condom?”

I nod and roll over to reach for the nightstand while Bucky takes off his pants, before leaning down and pressing soft feathery kisses along my spine. I allow myself to savour the feeling of his lips against my skin, then I turn back around. He rips the condom open with his teeth. I sit up when he lies down, his hand reaching out.

Our fingers interlace with each other, he tugs and I follow until I feel him hard against my core. I suck in a breath and he places his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him. I lean forward and reach for him, and then he is there, slowly pushing into me. His fingertips press into my skin as I slowly lower myself down. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are watching me intently. I can’t seem to look away, he’s holding me in his gaze and we both moan at the same time.

Then I place my hands on his chest and roll against him, my hair falling into my face. His hands leave my hips and reach for my breasts, pinching and thumbing over my nipples, sending sweet jolts of pleasure down to where our bodies meet. My breath comes heavy, and when he starts moving with me, my mouth falls open. He grabs my hips again and holds me in place, before he suddenly flips us so that I’m below him. My hands fly up to the headboard, trying to find something to hold on to and he grabs them, pinning them above my head. My back arches of the bed and the angle changes slightly, I can almost feel it, he almost hits the spot, just –

His metal hand reaches for my knee and pulls my leg up against his hips, pushing my thigh back against me. It’s the exact change I needed. He hits the spot again, and again, and my head falls back, a string of nonsensical words leaving my mouth. He curses underneath his breath.

“Look at me, baby, please”, he whispers and I can’t help but obey him.

He thrusts into me and my hips roll against him, meeting him halfway.

“Fuck, Bucky, I –“

He groans in response, brows furrowed, sweat on his forehead. Every muscle in my body is tense in anticipation, I feel myself tighten around him. He moves his hand from my thigh to where we’re connected, thumb smoothing over my clit, jaw set as he adjusts the angle of his hips again. He hits the spot. Once. Twice. My hands strain against his grasp and my back arches and then I feel myself explode. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes snap closed.

“Dammit, Lizzie …”, he growls as I contract around him and then he follows me down, hand gripping my waist. His breath leaves him shuddering and his hips buck. One last swipe of his thumb that has me trembling underneath him, before he removes his hand and lets go of my wrists. My hands snake down and I grab both sides of his face. He lowers himself onto his elbows, one on each side of my head, and eases into a long, satisfied kiss. His hands curl into my hair that’s sprawled around my head on the pillow and I melt against him. Then he pulls back. Opens his mouth.

“I love you.”

I pause. Did he really – my eyes open, slowly, to not break the moment. Suddenly I’m staring directly into his eyes, noses mere inches apart. I open my mouth. Close it. He sighs, pulling away to better look at me.

“I’m sorry if that was a bit … forward. But I’m tired of hiding it. And I wanted you to know that this”, he nods his head down at our entwined bodies, “means something to me.”

He loves me. All the small moments I have been repressing for the last weeks come crashing over me like a tidal wave. “I am not. Leaving you, Jones.” Suddenly I understand why he reacted the way he did when I told him about HYDRA’s comment. “It’s amazing what love can do to people.” And I really didn’t see it. Hell, even HYDRA knew. His reaction when I told him I tried to end it. “I can’t – I wouldn’t even know what to do without you.” The times he spent in the gym with me, at night. On the balcony before that. The times he sat outside my room, just keeping watch. “Had a bad dream. Wanted to make sure nobody would hurt you.”

“Can you … say something?”

I blink. Maybe I should react. That would be appropriate, I guess.

“That’s –“, my voice is rough and I clear my throat, “unexpected.” Bullshit, fucking hell, Jones.

He pulls away, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … goddammit I had to ruin it, didn’t I?” No, you didn’t ruin anything, I just don’t know –

“I’m sorry, Lizzie, I –“

I sit up and grab his arm, pull his hand away from his face. I take his other hand, too.

“I was wondering when you had started calling me ‘baby'.”

He huffs out a breath of air and closes his fingers around my hands.

“It just … slips. I don’t even do it on purpose, I just …”, he shrugs, a pained expression on his face, and I realise what this must be like for him. He sleeps with the woman he loves, tells her, and she freezes. I take a deep breath. Fucking hell, I’m an idiot.

“I love you, too, Bucky.”

The moment I say it, I realise its truth. Its utter, crystal clear truth. His eyes go wide.

“I’m just bad with my emotions. I’m sorry”, I try to salvage some of it.

He lifts a hand up to my cheek, staring at me in utter disbelief. His thumb smoothes over my cheekbone and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. Of course I fucking love him. I would’ve died for him. Didn’t even hesitate.

The softest of kisses brings me back down to earth. To where I am sitting naked on the bed with the man I love. I melt into it, arms curling around his neck, pulling him towards me.

“Don’t apologise for things like that”, he mumbles against my lips and touches his forehead against mine.

Then he squeezes my hand, “Be right back”, and with a peck on the lips, he gets up in the direction of the bathroom. I sigh and let myself fall back onto the sheets. There is a slight, sweet burn between my legs, a gentle reminder. I yawn, stretching in the sun like a cat that just woke up. When I open my eyes again, there’s a shadow in front of me. I blink up at him as he’s just standing there, watching, a soft smile on his face.

The sun is behind him now, lighting up bits of his hair like a halo. Sunshine suits his eyes, I realise.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking beautiful, Bucky?”, I mutter and he comes crawling over to me. There’s a slight heat to my cheeks but hell, I’m naked in front of him, and after what just happened it’s not like I can’t call him beautiful. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least.

“You’re cute, Lizzie", he responds, kissing my nose. I smile at that and pull him back down to me. We roll over onto our sides and he grabs the blanket, tucking me in and planting a kiss on my forehead. And finally, I feel like I can maybe, someday, be whole again.

[archaxwii]

Through Diamond and Flesh

Warnings: This fic involves safe, soft, consensual, non-sexual vore, as well as g/t content.

This is just a silly Skeppy and Bad vore fic, I wrote it like a week ago but what better time to post it than now? Also Skeppy and Bad's relationship con be interpreted as romantic or platonic as you want. This is a little outdated now as of the last lore stream but we’ll just say this takes place in a world where everyone on the SMP makes it out safe and alive. (Also I’m a bit rusty so apologies if the writing or dialogue isn’t great)

—

Skeppy and Bad have been friends for several years now. They had grown very fond of each other in that time. Especially after a...certain incident with an egg and maybe getting possessed and Skeppy nearly dying to said egg...multiple times...However, that was a couple years ago, the egg was gone and the duo had been saved. It had taken a lot of time (and therapy) but they were now closer than ever before.

Sometimes Skeppy thought maybe too close.

Now, Bad and Skeppy had grown up very differently. Skeppy was a diamond golem, he didn't exactly have parents he had a creator, who had basically left him alone to his own devices, which is why he had come to the smp.

Bad, however, was a demon from the Nether. He had actual parents, who had raised him and loved him until he was old enough to decide to move to the Overworld.

They talked a lot about how they'd grown up, and there were a lot of things Skeppy found weird about how Bad's parents raised him, but there was one thing in particular that he kept getting stuck on.

"I still don't understand how you don't think it's weird your parents used to eat you as a kid." Skeppy said, exasperated.

Bad groaned, waving his arms around." I don't get why it weirds you out so much, it's honestly not that big of a deal!" He protested.

" Besides...I don't remember it being that bad." He mumbled, looking away with embarrassment.

Skeppy shook his head." You're such a weirdo." He said giving Bad a light shove.

Bad huffed, immediately shoving him back." Maybe I am, but I honestly don't think it was as bad as you're making it out to be." He paused, and turned to Skeppy with a cheeky grin." You know, I could show you what it was like?” He offered.

Skeppy actually, physically jumped back." What?! Are you crazy?!" He shouted." No, I don't wanna be eaten, how would that even work that's not even physically possible!" He really shouldn't have said that, because that just opened the gateway for Bad.

Bad crossed his arms." No, I'm not "crazy". And really, it's not that big of a stretch, I'm sure that at my full height I'd be able to do it." He reasoned.

He really, really hated that that was probably true.

Bad is a size shifter, with four different sizes he could choose from, and at his tallest he was somewhere around 15 feet. Probably definitely able to eat someone.

Skeppy shook his head." I think you might be forgetting one important detail here, Bad, I WILL DIE IF YOU EAT ME." Despite being almost 3 feet taller than him, Bad still winced from the loud noise.

"What makes you say that?" He had the audacity to sound genuinely confused.

Skeppy flung his hands in the air." Uhh, I don't know, maybe because things get digested in burning acid when they're eaten?!" He cried with less vigor, but still sounding upset.

Bad stared at Skeppy with an seriously embarrassing amount of confusion. After a few seconds it finally seemed to click." Ohh, no no no, Skeppy, that's not how it works. Did I never give you a lesson on demon anatomy?"  No, he hadn't, and Skeppy was kind of hoping to keep it that way.

"See, demons like me have two stomachs," he pointed at an area slightly higher than where a normal stomach would be," this one is for storage purposes, it doesn't have any digestive fluids or anything like that. Everything I eat has to go through there before I manually send it into this stomach," he pointed a little lower," That one does actually digest all my food and stuff." He explained.

He gave Skeppy an odd look." How did you think my parents were able to...eat me?" He asked.

Skeppy sighed, not making eye contact." I dunno man, I just thought it happened with some weird demon magic or whatever." So it was actually possible for Bad to eat him, and for him to be completely safe.

" I don't know Bad, this is still really freaking weird, I don't think I wanna do this." He said uncomfortably.

Bad sighed, a bit dejected." Ok, Skeppy, I won't make you do it if you don't want to. I just wanted to explain why I wanted to do it." Why did he sound sad?

Skeppy tilted his head." Why, exactly, do you want to do it? I still don't see what's enjoyable about it." He asked genuinely.

Bad scratched the back of his head, looking awkward." I- I don't know. I just remember it feeling very nice. Even as a demon the Nether is still a scary place, I felt...safe whenever they did it. It was just...nice and warm. Like nothing could hurt me." He admitted quietly.

Skeppy gave him a soft smile." It sounds like you wanna get eaten more than I do." He joked lightly.

Bad brightened, giving him a wide grin." Oh my gosh, would you eat me, Skeppy?" He asked hopefully, tail wagging like an oversized dog.

Skeppy very quickly shook his head." What?! No way, dude! That would definitely kill you!" He yelped.

Bad grabbed his hands, linking them together." Not necessarily! I think I have some potions that can make me immune to acid!” He explained excitedly.

Skeppy gave him a skeptical look." You just have those lying around, huh?" He deadpanned.

If Bad were human, he probably would have blushed." Well-I, you see-... shut up." He sputtered." Look, will you actually do it now?"

He bent his knees to look Skeppy in the eyes.

Despite the fact that Bad was a 9'6 demon, it was still impossible for him to not give into the puppy dog eyes.

He hesitated for several seconds, and took a deep breath.

"Show me what to do."

—

Well, here he was. With a tiny, potioned up Bad in the palm of his hand.

"Are you ready, Skeppy?" Bad asked gently. He was willing to go as slowly as possible for Skeppy's comfort, even if he was incredibly eager. Especially since he'd taken off his robes in exchange for an easier T shirt and shorts, making him much colder.

Skeppy shifted nervously." I don't know what to do." He admitted.

Bad tilted his head." Do you wanna let me inside your mouth?" He asked calmly.

Skeppy's anxiety skyrocketed, but he tried not to let it show. He delicately brought Bad closer to his mouth. He really didn't wanna do this.

Bad smiled calmly, sensing his nervousness." Would you like me to just climb in myself? So you don't feel like I'm being forced?" Skeppy nodded and wordlessly opened his mouth.

He slowly climbed in, trying not to startle Skeppy too much. He very patiently sat on his friends tongue. It sadly wasn't as warm as he'd like, but it was better than outside.

"Now, I know this may sound weird, but I need you to lick me, like, a lot." He guided.

Skeppy whined, and Bad reassured him that he was fine and ok with it.

Skeppy reluctantly obliged and began running his tongue across the demon, coating him in a thick layer of saliva. He had a very smoke-y taste to him, which made sense seeing as he was from the Nether. Eventually Bad told him he'd done enough and, to Skeppy's dismay, moved closer to his throat.

"I'm ready when you are, Skeppy." He shuddered, Bad was putting his complete trust and faith into him. He was willing and excited to let Skeppy eat him. He didn’t want to let his best friend down.

He tilted his head back, swallowing thickly. He tried not to panic over the unusually large lump that was traveling down his throat. It was such a weird sensation, yet to his surprise it wasn’t as horrible as he thought it would be. He swallowed a few more times, and eventually the warm weight that was his best friend settled into his belly.

Immediately he began asking," Are you ok? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Bad didn't respond for a few moments and Skeppy now had to deal with the startling sensation of something moving in his stomach, as Bad pawed around like he was trying to get his bearings.

Finally, he responded." Yes, Skeppy, I'm ok. That was a little disorienting but I'm perfectly fine." He paused for a moment." Are you ok?" He inquired.

He wasn’t sure how to answer, he was still processing that he’d just eaten his best friend alive.

He pressed a hand against his stomach, feeling where Bad was. He felt a bit of shuffling and soon a hand was pressed against the inside as well. Bad was...safe...inside him. Skeppy was now the sole protector of him. Protected by layers of flesh and diamond, no one could hurt him. Now he was beginning to understand why Bad wanted to do this so desperately. He wanted to be able to protect his best friend like this all the time, and he was certain that's how Bad felt as well.

"I think I'm ok, actually..." He said softly, gently rubbing circles against Bad's form.

Bad was quite happy about his current situation. The walls around him were very soft and, if it weren't for the layers of slime he was coated in, felt almost like a bed. He didn't have much room to move but he didn't feel like he was being suffocated. It wasn't as warm as he'd like (aka as warm as sitting in a fire) but it was warm, and that was very pleasant. He could hear the gurgles and growls of the organs surrounding him, as well as the gradually steadier heartbeat and whoosh of Skeppy's lungs as he began calming down. Loud, but not too intrusive.

The best thing about it, though, was that he hasn't felt this safe in a long, long time.

Ever since his time with The Egg he had become a very paranoid and closed off person. He was afraid of talking to the other members of the server, either out of fear that they still harbored some hatred for what he'd done, or that they would be corrupted as well. Even though he knew that The Egg was gone now it had woven itself very deep into his brain, and a small part of him still believed that one day it would erupt from the earth and devour the world with its vines.

Bad harshly shook his head. He wouldn't let thoughts about The Egg get to him. That was for Puffy’s therapy office, not for here.

Truthfully, though, he hadn't really felt safe since the day he'd stepped out of the Nether portal for the first time. Far from his family, his home. Not even being with Skeppy had made him feel as safe as he did now.

But now, he was at the very core of his best friend. Nothing could hurt him. He was safe, and he was with Skeppy, he couldn't ask for anything better.

He grinned a little to himself, giving the wall he was leaned against a little pat." I told you it wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be." He said only a little smugly.

Skeppy sighed with faux frustration." I will admit, I didn't expect it to feel...like this." He laid down on his bed, placing a hand on his stomach.

“ I guess it's not that bad." He said, rubbing small circles where he could feel Bad's form.

Bad grinned a little, beginning to rub circles with both of his hands against the walls of Skeppy's stomach.

Skeppy practically melted into his bed at that point. He'd definitely never felt anything like that before, it made him feel very warm and content.

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes but he was starting to get tired, and he knew Bad must be tired as well.

"Are you gonna be ok if I leave you in there? Will you be safe?" He questioned softly.

Bad nodded out of habit despite the fact that Skeppy couldn't see." It'll be fine, the potion’s got a long time before it wears off," he paused,"...I kinda planned for this." He said with only slight embarrassment.

Skeppy lightly chuckled, he would have to remember to tease him about that in the morning but for now he was too tired, instead just settling on giving his belly a light pat.

They both drowsily exchanged their good nights before slowly dozing off together, finally feeling safe and content at last.

[fbfh]

Connor Stoll dating headcanons

1.1k words

Gender neutral reader

I'll add the read below once I'm off ~mobile~

I might reference my dating Travis post a little so if you haven't read it yet here's the link

Since Connor is the younger brother he's obviously gonna have more of that 

What's the word

Crackhead energy

He also has a little more of a baby face

Which is just fucking adorable

His hair is shorter on the sides too

Like go much shorter and it's basically an undercut

They practically have their own language of inside jokes and references and stuff

The longer you're around them the more you start to pick up

Connor's so proud when you get references without having to explain 

He absolutely will not date someone if Travis doesn't like them

Thankfully Travis sees how much Connor likes you and goes easy on you

Connor is a non stop bad idea machine

I hope you're ready to act as 60% of his impulse control

He likes climbing trees with you

"I will never be to old for this"

Just sitting

Existing together in the foliage 

Will absolutely make "y/n and Connor sitting in a tree" jokes as an excuse to kiss you

An absolute imp of a man

Like if you didn't know better you would think he's some sort of trickster fairy boy like Puck

Constantly on the verge of pulling some bullshit

Speaking of Puck

I feel like he likes a midsummer nights dream a lot

He doesn't talk about it much though

[John Mullaney voice] that's the thing I'm SENSITIVE ABOUT

Like he’s seen all of the film adaptations 

And has very strong opinions on all of them

When he found out that fairies and nature spirits were real he almost shat himself 

Quotes it under his breath sometimes 

He doesn't bring it up for a long time

Like he barely even talks to Travis about it

But when you've been together for a while you'll eventually find out how much he loves it

You quote it back to him sometimes 

It always makes his heart happy 

Loves going thrifting with you

Please look at anything from the blog shifty thrifting 

Because that's the kind of weird shit you two find together 

Make sure to hold his hands a lot

It helps with the whole accidental theft thing

This goes without saying but like

Prank🗣wizard🗣

The last summer before Travis started college 

Connor grabs you at like 9pm and shoves you into the bathroom

You're like woah there tiger

He holds up a shopping bag and has that look on his face

"I got wind that Travis is planning to dye my hair green as an end of summer prank, but I'm beating him to it"

You're about to point out that dying Travis's hair green days before he starts college is probably not the best retaliation

Before you can he rips open a box of platinum blonde dye and hands you a pair of gloves

"He can't dye my hair green if I beat him to it"

You spend like two and a half hours getting his hair from his warm chestnutty brown to Billie Eilish neon green

You can hear the laughter and yelling from Hermes cabin past midnight when Travis pulls down his brother's hood

And Connor, without opening his eyes, whispers

"Too slow, man"

The camp fucking riots over that for the next week

Easily one of his most legendary pranks he's ever pulled

He has a lot of that "your cool wild free spirited manic pixie dream boy boyfriend from high school" energy

Expect a lot of rooftop picnics

Mostly with takeout 

And lots of kissing 

But who's complaining 

"Take out and make out" - Connor probably

He finds stuff that makes him think of you 

And he wants to give it to you

But he is the most awkward gift giver e v e r

He usually just tucks presents here and there and waits for you to find them

Like an affectionate raven

“That’s a nice necklace,” 

“Yeah thanks, it’s one of my favorites”

Neither of you bring it up but you both know how much it means 

So Travis is at college learning psychology 

And Connor's really proud of him

But it sometimes gives him this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers his brother has it all figured out and he doesn't 

It makes him feel bad about all the goofing off he does

He brings it up to you at one point 

His head is on your stomach and you're watching the stars 

Your fingers move to play with his hair while you take a second to collect your thoughts

"I mean, you can't really hold yourself to that standard, Con. He has had three more years to think about this stuff,"

"I know, I feel like I'm just so far behind,"

"You're not behind, you're younger. That's not a bad thing. Plus, that youthful glow you still somehow retain makes you so good at connecting to the younger kids at camp. That's really important."

He breathes out a laugh as he realizes you're right

"I mean, just last week I saw Emma and Harley trying to short sheet Nyssa's bed!" 

"Seriously? Emma and Harley?"

He laughs more at the idea of Nyssa getting short sheeted 

Emma had been so shy and withdrawn since she'd come to camp

It was really hard to get he to participate in camp activities and training, and Chiron was a little worried 

Something kind of clicked for Connor that night

A few years later when he would have aged out, he talked to Chiron about being a year round councilor 

Chiron agreed enthusiastically, and the number of little demigods coming out of their shells faster and faster rose every year

He sometimes lets younger kids call him Connie, which never fails to make them giggle

He kissed you once in front of a group of elementary school aged kids practicing with wooden swords and you couldn't help laugh at the chorus of "EEEEEW"s that errupted

You both sometimes go eeeew! After you kiss and it never fails to make you laugh

Tldr; Connor Stoll is so sweet?????

How did he get to be such a loving boyfriend????? 

We may never know

But we'll have fun on the way

You always do with him

[cherienymphe]

Protect & Serve III (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, mentions of abuse, violence, STALKING, HARASSMENT, eventual KIDNAPPING/NON-CON

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

~

The man behind the counter welcomed you with a warm smile as you approached. Maybe he could sense your uneasiness as you hesitantly placed your hands on the counter, looking at him with a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you quietly greeted. “Um… I need a gun.”

The brunette chuckled, blue eyes filled with mirth as he eyed you.

“No kidding,” he replied, gesturing around to the rest of the gun and hunting and supplies store.

“Right,” you chuckled. “I just… I need something small and easy to handle.”

You bit your lip, and his face slowly grew solemn as he ran his eyes over you.

“You don’t look like a hunting kind of gal,” he quietly insinuated.

You shook your head.

“No.”

He nodded in understanding before inhaling as he straightened, turning to eye the wall behind him. He paced, eyes roaming over the assortment of guns, and you took the time to look around. Never in your life did you imagine yourself in a place like this, but you were tired of being a sitting duck in someone else’s twisted games. You’d been through that once already…

“Here…”

You turned, eyes falling to the small gun in his hand as he neared the counter again. It was small enough to throw into your purse or hide in your car, whenever you got a license, and it looked easy enough to operate. It was perfect.

“I want this one,” you told him.

“Figured you would. It’s a Ruger LC9. It’s a 9mm caliber semi-automatic. Super simple to operate and will still get the job done,” he murmured.

He showed you how to load it, turning the magazine over and going over its features. You nodded as you followed along and grabbed your wallet without hesitation. He eyed you again as he took your cash.

“You talk to the police?”

“For what?” you wondered.

“For whatever’s got a girl like you buying a gun on a Monday morning,” he explained.

You sighed.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to them, but since no crime has been committed, there isn’t much they can do. I refuse to just sit around and wait for someone to hurt me. I’m done with that,” you told him.

He nodded and stuck his hand out.

“The name’s Clint. If you have any questions or…need to come back here, you know how to find me.”

You shook his hand and threw him a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

The weapon felt so heavy in your purse, and even though the safety was on, you were careful in placing the bag in your car. The ride home was spent stewing over your thoughts. There was too much that you had to consider, and instead of spending the rest of the summer making lesson plans for when school started back, you were worrying about some stranger stalking your house at night.

Here you were doing the cops’ job for them.

That thought drew your mind to Officer Rogers, and you clenched your jaw. There was a time when you gave people the benefit of the doubt, but after your marriage, you couldn’t afford to do that anymore. How glad you were to be wary of the blond cop from the beginning.

His behavior had officially crossed questionable and dove straight into terrifying. You feared to imagine what would have happened had you accepted his proposal for dinner. You didn’t understand his behavior…not one bit. Was he punishing you for turning him down? Surely, that couldn’t be it. It seemed so…silly. Childish even.

Wanda had stated that just about every woman in town had been trying to lock down the man since he moved here. You could believe it. You’d have to be hard of seeing to deny how attractive he was, and coupled with his profession, you could definitely see why he was popular with the women in town. He was a seemingly kind man with the face of an angel, sworn to protect those in need. He was like something out of a cheesy romance novel.

You knew better though.

You’d been on the receiving end of his gaslighting tactics, his nicely veiled threats, and his wandering hands. The real kicker about his behavior though, was that he hadn’t done anything concrete enough to go to anyone with. None of what he did was objectively outright enough to report him with. Wanda had already asked you if you’d misunderstood his quip about your past abuse. You could just imagine anyone else’s face when you told them of how he brushed your waist and held your hand. ‘Oh, the horror!’ they’d say.

You hid your gun in your nightstand as soon as you got inside of your house. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to use it. You’d never been the type to resort to violence, but your ex-husband had changed all of that. If the cops wouldn’t do their job and protect you, without an incentive, then you’d do it yourself.

Hours later, you did just that.

You were half asleep anyway, having been going in and out of consciousness all night. The noise had come from the front of your yard this time, and you peeled your eyes open, slowly blinking as you heard it again. You had swiftly flicked the switch on your lamp and slipped your hand into your drawer to grab the weapon you’d bought.

You licked your lips, slowly sitting up. You looked down, making sure that the safety was off just before exiting your room. It was quiet outside as you quietly crept downstairs. You felt silly, standing in your living room in your oversized t-shirt, both hands on this toy-sized gun. You glanced at all of the windows, and when you didn’t see anything, you crept into the kitchen.

The silence made you nervous because you knew he was still out there. You turned towards the window and didn’t see anyone through the curtain. You weren’t convinced though, and you remained still. Sure enough, a bulky silhouette came into view as they glided past the kitchen. With wide eyes, you raised your arms, the gunshot making your ears ring as glass shattered.

You watched as he clutched his arm before taking off, a deep grunt traveling through the broken window. Hurriedly, you ran after him, throwing the door open before sprinting outside. Your yard was empty, and you had your gun raised before you as you paced the yard, spinning around. It was quiet…empty of anyone else it seemed.

They were gone, but fortunately, you knew that you’d hit them. You were just about to lower your weapon when you had a thought. With wide eyes, you ran back into the house. You were quick in grabbing your phone from upstairs before sprinting back outside. You turned the flashlight on as you neared the grass just below your window.

There, before you, were a few spots of blood, and hope bloomed in your chest. You let out a chuckle, feeling confident for the first time in a while. You put the safety back on the gun and laid it on the kitchen counter as soon as you were back inside. You grabbed a paper towel, stepping back out into the cool night air. You were wiping up the blood with the napkin when red and blue flashes suddenly filled your vision.

You stood and turned, watching as a police cruiser parked along your curb. The cop who stepped out was familiar to you, but it wasn’t the last person you wanted to see. Bucky strode across your yard to approach you, a less than enthusiastic look on his face.

“We got a call about gunshots. They listed your residence as the source,” he said as soon as he was close enough.

Your lips parted, and you glanced away. The blue-eyed man sighed at that.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he admonished.

“What other choice did I have? None of you can do anything until I get hurt, and why would I wait around for that? The state doesn’t require a license to keep one on my property. It was self-defense,” you defended.

He frowned at that, running his eyes over you, alarmed.

“What was self-defense?” he slowly questioned.

You shoved the napkin at him, and his eyes widened.

“I shot him…Officer Barnes. I know I did! I got him in the arm, and now you have his blood, his DNA! You can test it, see if there’s a match in the system-.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, attempting to calm you down.

You hadn’t realized that you were talking so fast, and you apologized.

“Here,” you said, turning to walk into your house.

He followed you, watching as you put the bloody napkin into a Ziplock bag before handing it to him. He gingerly took it, eyeing it before heaving a sigh.

“Well…the evidence is pretty damning. We’ll test it as soon as possible,” he eventually said.

Sighing in relief, you nodded. You watched as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, and it struck you how much like Steve’s they were.

“Ms. Y/L/N…is there anyone who’d want to hurt you? Anyone at all?”

You opened your mouth to reply in the negative when you suddenly froze. Familiar blond hair and blue eyes came to mind, and you blinked, a realization falling over you.

“Killian,” you murmured as if just remembering him.

“Sorry?”

You shook your head, eyes meeting Bucky’s again.

“M-my ex-husband. He’s the only one I can think of…”

“I assume it ended badly?”

“That’s an understatement,” you scoffed. “He was advised by his lawyers to go through with the divorce when I filed. It wasn’t his choice, at all, but it was in his best interest.”

The other man simply stared at you.

“He wasn’t…a good man. Not at all. I wish I could say all of it was verbal and psychological, but I had no choice but to come clean when I landed in the hospital. It wasn’t looking good for him and refusing to go through with the divorce would make him look worse,” you explained.

Bucky sharply inhaled, nodding.

“I see…”

“I…can’t believe that I’d never considered him before. He has money, but I’d never thought he’d find me so quickly,” you murmured.

Bucky made his way to the door, and you followed.

“I’ll get this down to the station. You be careful with that gun,” he advised, and you nodded. “Have a good night.”

And for the first time in weeks, you did.

“You look well rested,” Wanda complimented, bringing your plate to you.

You returned her smile with a genuine one of your own.

“I feel well rested. Hopeful, actually,” you replied.

“That’s good! So I take it things are a lot better at your place, now?”

“They will be,” you cheerily said, digging into your food.

“I’m glad to hear it, and what great timing too. It seems like Steve might be out of commission for a few days,” she told you. “So, it won’t be him responding to any 911 calls.”

You blinked up at her. You couldn’t care less about the blond cop in any way, and the information actually filled you with relief, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“Why?”

“He was shot,” was her simple response.

However, it made you feel anything but simple. You almost dropped your fork as you eyed her, brows furrowing as your heart dropped to your stomach.

“…what?”

“Yeah, in the arm…”

It felt like someone took a knife to your chest.

“…the word is that he was involved in a hunting accident.”

You forced yourself to swallow, mind whirling.

“When?”

She hummed, thinking.

“The day before yesterday, I believe,” she answered.

You wanted to be relieved at that, that it wasn’t last night, but…it all seemed too coincidental. No…there was no way. The thought alone made you want to be sick.

“How…awful,” you whispered.

“I know,” she pouted. “I’m baking him a cake tonight. Figured I’d head up to his house to deliver it to him.”

You pressed your lips together, trying, and failing, to talk yourself out of what you were about to do. You knew that you were paranoid, you’d never deny that, but you owed it to yourself. If only to quell your fears. You had to see…

“Uh…when are you heading over?”

“Probably in the morning,” she said just before welcoming some customers in.

“Can I come with? I’d like to check in on him too…”

She looked at you with a sly smile, and you grimaced.

“Growing on you, is he?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed. “It’s just… He’s always entertaining my concerns, responding to every call I’ve made. I feel like the least I can do is check on him, you know?”

She nodded, buying your lie.

“That’s really sweet of you. I’ll swing by your house around 8,” she said. “He lives pretty far out, so it’ll take about 45 minutes to get there.”

You nodded, and she left to go deal with some customers.

You swallowed, appetite lost, and you pushed your plate away. Your paranoia was really getting the best of you because a part of you actually believed that the person you shot last night was Officer Rogers. It was the most outlandish thing to think. The man was an officer of the law, and even though he proved that he didn’t deserve that title, there was a pretty big gap in between some creepy touches and a full-blown stalker.

You knew how it would sound if you voiced your fears to Wanda. People hunted around here all the time, hunting cabins forever common. It was perfectly believable, but…it seemed too coincidental. Besides, you figured there was no harm in seeing for yourself just to put your fears to rest. However, a small voice in your head wondered what you would do if you didn’t put them to rest at all, but only increased them?

What if you only confirmed your suspicions?

This plagued you all throughout the night and well into the morning when Wanda pulled into your yard. You locked up your house and hurried to her car, goosebumps rising on your flesh from the cool early morning air.

“So how far does he live?” you asked as soon as you were in the car.

“Do you remember where Dr. Banner lived before he left town?”

You nodded.

“Past that,” she replied, and you blinked.

“Why so far out?” you wondered.

“Steve likes his privacy. Plus, he’s really a nature kind of guy. Homebody too. I know our town is no New York, but even it gets a bit too much for him sometimes,” she explained.

“Being secluded in a big house with Steve Rogers, out in the woods, sounds like something most women would be interested in. He definitely strikes me as the type to want kids and the whole nine, so why hasn’t he ever taken any offers? You said it yourself that he’s had plenty…”

You were beginning to realize that you didn’t know much about this man, at all. It seemed strange that someone like him hadn’t dated anyone in 6 years. You already knew that there was definitely something wrong with him, but could there be more? Like making you feel unsafe in your own home more?

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “He did have a short thing with Peggy when he first got here-.”

“Peggy? I could see that,” you said to yourself, wondering what had happened.

Wanda answered your unspoken question.

“Yeah, it didn’t last very long though,” she sighed. “She left as soon as it ended. I never did find out what happened exactly, but she was just gone one day. House emptied of everything, and her car was gone. I guess it ended pretty badly. Steve never talks about it.”

You frowned at that. You’d known Peggy growing up, and that didn’t seem like her. Unlike you, she was never the type to just take off. But so many years had passed. Steve came to town about 4 years after you left, and a lot could happen in 4 years. People could change, and you supposed that’s what had happened.

The rest of the car ride was filled with idle talk about things that had happened in the years. Wanda told you about her boyfriend, Vis. He’d move here about two years ago, and he apparently made her very happy. She’d been lonely ever since her brother Pietro had moved away not long after you did, and Vis apparently made her smile more.

Eventually the topic somehow came back to Steve...and Bucky and Sam.

“His name is James, but everyone calls him Bucky. Him and Sam were roommates in college and just remained that way ever since. They both moved down here about…4 years ago? They’re all like 3 peas in a pod, like brothers…”

Sam was Officer Wilson. You’d seen him in passing a few times, usually with Bucky. He seemed nice enough.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one, or both, of them was up here already,” she said, taking a left into the trees.

The driveway was paved and long, curving every which way before it eventually straightened out. You realized that the car was going up an incline, and thick trees surrounded you on both sides. When Wanda said that he liked his privacy, she wasn’t exaggerating. The seclusion of it all could be considered peaceful if you ignored who lived here.

She pulled up in front of a nice two-story house, the light blue paint standing out amongst the dark trees. You had the small cake in one hand while you closed the car door with the other. You admired the scenery as you followed her. It was beautiful, there was no denying that, but the battered woman in you couldn’t help but to think how easy it would be to get away with anything. If you screamed, nobody would hear you.

You followed her around the side of the house towards the back deck, and with a start, you realized that the hill that the house sat on led down to a rather large lake. Fog hovered over the water in the early morning, and your lips parted at the sight, eyes running over the thick trees on the other side.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

“He had it built before he officially moved down here. I don’t blame him for spending all of his free time at home. Who’d want to leave this?”

She knocked on the backdoor, and your nerves spiked as you realized that you would soon be coming face to face with the erasure of your fears…or something that would only worsen them. It took a few minutes before you heard him approaching the door. A greeting was already on his lips when he opened it, but it died when his eyes landed on you.

“Wanda…and Ms. Y/L/N. Come on in,” he greeted, stepping back.

“Hey, Steve. I wanted to bring that cake by before I had to go to work,” she said with a smile.

You followed her inside and shuddered when your shoulder grazed Steve’s chest.

“Y/N wanted to check on you too, make sure you’re alright,” Wanda added.

You looked at him with a small smile, noticing the long-sleeved shirt he had on.

“It’s the least I can do after responding to all of my calls,” you told him.

He returned the smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I appreciate that,” he whispered. “You can just put it on the counter.”

He gestured to the kitchen, with his right arm you noted, and you followed his instruction. You could hear him and Wanda talking in the living room while you slid the plate on the granite countertop. You glanced around, noting how homey it looked. You weren’t sure why that surprised you.

“Rough night?” you heard Wanda ask him as soon as you reentered the living room

Your eyes followed as she gestured to the several empty beer cans on the tv stand. Steve chuckled, placing his right hand on his hip, the left hanging limply at his side.

“Hardly. Sam and Buck came by last night. We just got into a few beers, watching some game that was on,” he replied.

You licked your lips.

“How’s your arm? Wanda told me it was a hunting accident…”

His gaze met yours, and the corner of his lip quirked up into a small smirk. He gestured to his arm, his left one, and relief filled you as he spoke.

“Yeah, Sam and I got a little careless out there. It’s just a graze, but nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” he responded.

Wanda chuckled at that while you fought not to sneer. You were just thankful that you’d put your fears to bed. The man you’d shot last night, you’d gotten him in his right arm. Steve was injured in his left, and you allowed yourself to breathe now.

“Can I use your bathroom?” you suddenly asked him.

“Yeah, sure! Just down the hall there,” he told you, gesturing behind him.

You thanked him and walked past him, Wanda’s voice reaching your ears as she asked him something. You went for the first door on your right, hand on the handle, when you were startled by a presence.

You looked up as Steve placed his hand on the small of your back, eyes widening as he pushed you along. His fingers pressed into your waist, and you shrunk in on yourself, a frown covering your features at his close proximity.

“Not that one,” he quietly told you. “That’s the basement.”

Your eyes met his now, and you quickly looked away at the intensity there.

“This one’s the bathroom,” he continued, opening a door, and flicking on the light for you.

You murmured a quiet ‘thanks’, flinching when he squeezed your hip one last time before returning to the living room. Your jaw clenched. He may not have been a stalker, but he was still a creep.

“I... I don’t understand. How long does it take to test some blood?”

The policewoman before you pursed her lips, arms resting on her desk.

“It can take up to a few days-.”

“Which it has been.”

“Yes, but the sample has to be sent to a lab, and we have to wait for the results,” she explained. “I understand your concern…”

“Do you?” you mumbled.

She chuckled, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I do. Why do you think I have the job I have anyway? I like being able to protect myself and other people,” she told you. “There was a time when I wasn’t able to…”

You sighed, glancing around the busy station. It was empty of a certain blond cop, and you were happy.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re also a woman, so there’s no doubt that you definitely understand what I’m feeling. I just…I have to know who this person is. I don’t feel safe in my own house.”

“I know,” she replied. “Steve talks about you a lot.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, face falling.

“…he does?”

She hummed.

“He wishes that he could do more,” she said. “He worries about you. Of course, with this blood sample, I imagine he’ll be doing a lot more worrying. This is proof that someone is out there every night, messing with you.”

“Do you think this will be enough to convince your boss to let someone stakeout my house?”

She mulled it over, humming.

“You know what? It might be. I’ll definitely bring it up,” she replied, and hope bloomed within you.

You fidgeted in your seat, worrying your lip, and she frowned.

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” she asked.

Her tone of voice told you that she knew you did, so you figured it was best to just come right out and say it.

“If you are able to get someone to watch my house at night…can it not be Officer Rogers?”

Her frown deepened, and she ran her eyes over you. She leaned in, a red strand grazing the side of her face as she studied.

“Now why would you request that?”

You didn’t feel like you had a valid reason to give her, not one that she’d believe anyway. Steve was a town favorite, so you had to come up with something that would make her listen to you.

“You and Officer Rogers are friends, right? You care about him?”

“Of course,” she said, urging you to continue.

“I know that he worries about me, and that’s why I think someone else should be assigned to this. If it gets approved, of course. I just worry that lines may start to blur…”

She straightened up at that.

“How do you mean?”

You let out a soft sigh.

“He did ask me to dinner a while back, and seeing as I only recently got divorced, I refused. I’m just not ready, and I know that he understands and has no problem waiting, but…”

You chuckled.

“He’s just so sweet. I still feel so bad about it, and I don’t want to make this any harder on him. Until I’m ready, I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I think it’d be best for everyone if an objective pair of eyes were on this. Especially for his sake…”

She hummed, nodding in understanding.

“No, Ms. Y/L/N, that’s perfectly reasonable. I’m glad to hear that Steve is finally trying to get back into the dating pool though,” she said, standing, and you followed her lead. “It took him long enough.”

You simply threw her a smile.

“Well, thank you for listening to me, and please, call me as soon as those lab results come back.”

“I will,” she promised.

Your shoulders felt lighter as you stepped out of the police station. Soon, you could find out who was tormenting you and they’d be locked up. In addition, you wouldn’t have to deal with Steve for a while…or ever again. You could finally breathe again. Soon you’d have nothing at all to deal with aside from lesson plans, and bratty kids were nothing in comparison to this.

As you neared your yard, you realized, with disappointment, that you would be eating your words. A sleek black car was parked on the curb, and it took a minute for you to realize that it belonged to Steve. You’d just seen him a few days ago, so you were unsure why he was paying you a visit. Apprehension filled you as you parked.

He was already out of his car and slowly making his way towards you when you stepped out of your own. You sent him a tense smile, standing beside your driver’s door as you eyed him.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted.

“Officer Rogers.”

“I came by to thank you for the cake,” he told you.

“Oh,” you said with a frown, shaking your head. “There’s no need. Wanda made it. I just carried it in the house.”

You brushed past him, nearing your house, and you could hear him following.

“Still. It was very thoughtful of you to come by and check on me. Especially considering the night you had before…”

You paused and turned to look at him, brows furrowed. He had one foot on your steps while you stood on the porch, neat blond hair pushed away from his face.

“…sorry?”

“Bucky. He told me about what happened,” he explained.

“Ah,” you softly said.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. Wanda did say they were like brothers, after all.

“I confess that’s partially why I’m here. I wanted to see how you were fairing. That must have been terrifying for you,” he admitted, blue eyes inquiring as they drank you in.

You glanced down.

“Yeah…it was, but…I didn’t have much of a choice,” you said, looking at him. “I know you all are just doing your job, and I suppose I can’t blame you for that, but… I couldn’t just sit around and wait for someone to hurt me.”

He hummed, eyeing you.

“So do you know who it is?”

You shook your head.

“No, but I did get some of his blood. I talked to Officer Romanoff today, and she said that the lab results should be in any day, now,” you repeated what she had told you.

He nodded, making his way onto your porch now, and you stumbled back.

“Look, if you need-.”

“Officer Rogers,” you boldly interrupted, giving him pause.

His blue eyes were focused entirely on you as you swallowed, determined to put an end to this.

“Um… I have something to say…”

He straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared you down, waiting for you to continue. Your tongue darted out to swipe over your bottom lip, and you took a deep breath.

“I’ve always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Always, but…since my ex-husband, I don’t think I can really afford to do that anymore. For my own sake…”

Steve’s eyes had darkened, and you fought to hold his gaze.

“Your behavior makes me uncomfortable…and I want to say that perhaps you aren’t aware of it, but I don’t believe that. I think you know how you make me feel.”

You watched as he looked down his nose at you, jaw clenching and eyes hard, and you forced yourself to continue.

“If I offended you…or hurt you when I turned you down, that wasn’t my intention. Believe me, that was the farthest thing from my mind, and I don’t appreciate you acting so inappropriately towards me for it.”

His chest heaved with his deep breath, and you watched the way his cheek poked out, probably from his tongue. Satisfied with yourself, you took a step back.

“That’s all I had to say,” you finished, turning to go inside.

“Ms. Y/L/N, wait,” he finally spoke, reaching for your arm.

“Officer Rogers, please! I-.”

Your words were cut off by his loud grunt, pain lacing his tone. You had reached out to push him away, not liking the way he’d grabbed you. You frowned, chest clenching, feeling like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over you as you watched him clutch his arm…his right arm.

He had reached for your right arm with his right hand, and in retaliation, you’d turned and pushed your left hand against…his right arm. Realization hit you, and your eyes widened as you looked at him with different eyes. Eyes filled with a fear unlike any other you’d ever experienced.

You stumbled back, heart dropping into your stomach as his gaze finally met yours. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were already rushing inside, locking the door behind you just as his fist banged against it.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head.

He didn’t knock again, and you moved to the side, watching his silhouette through the curtains. It was getting late, the setting sun casting shadows everywhere, and feeling like you were going to be sick, you noted that the shape looked awfully familiar. He just stood there for a painful amount of time before eventually taking a step back and leaving altogether.

You placed your hand on your couch, struggling to stand. It was no use. You collapsed to the floor on your knees, taking your table and lamp with you, the fragile décor shattering upon impact with the floor. You pressed your hand to your forehead, entire body trembling as you realized what your subconscious had always suspected.

Officer Steve Rogers was the one tormenting you every night.

 ~

tags: @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose​

 @coconutqueen21​ @briannab1234​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @lou-la-lou​ @izzfizzh​ @thatgirly81​

[thenextchapter22]

Mail Order… Kitten Girl

Part 7: Bath Time

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Past Abuse, Past Non/Con, Slavery, Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Continuation of the last chapter... Asmo gives Kitten a bath, featuring some fluff and hurt/comfort...

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

Asmo carried you into his bedroom first, and then straight into his bathroom which adjoined it. It was one of his favorite places, he always told you.  

The smells that hit your nose were sweet, and the air was warm and pleasant on your exposed body. You began to purr, tail flickering lazily, occasionally brushing against his body to make him shiver. The continued contact with another person always brought you comfort, so you curled up into him, pressing your breasts to his shirt, feeling small in his arms like you did with all your Master’s when they held you or carried you. They were large demons, after all, and you loved to be coddled.  

"Smells nice," you commented quietly.  

Asmo smiled down at you. "I was hoping that these aromas wouldn't overwhelm that sensitive little nose~" he leaned down and eskimo kissed you, making you giggle.  

He set you on a cushioned bench along the wall. As he sat you down, you squeaked and reached up for him immediately, your bum tensing up. "Ngg!"  

The demon made a sympathetic sound. “Oh Kitten, does it hurt?” He lifted you up again into his arms, careful to hold you at your thighs and back with each arm. You did, after all, still have that plug nestled inside of you, your hole throbbing around it.  

You shook your head, pressing into his neck. “S-sore, ‘s all.”  

“Here, let’s lie you down instead.”  

He got a pillow and placed it at the edge of the bench, and lay you down on your side. The leash was still attached to your collar, and so you moved it to drape it so that didn’t get in your way. Your Master would take it off, you were not permitted.  

There were still some aftershocks from before, and you blushed remembering what happened. Cumming in front of all your Masters... So obscene, and really fun, too.  

But now, as you watched Asmo pouring oils of different colors into the large tub, you made the realization of just what was about to happen, and it honestly started to scare you.  

You had a fear of water. Or rather, a fear or taking baths. Of being dunked in deep water. So far you had only showered, and the warm rain-like water made you clean and felt nice—you liked the rain, it was calming—and you had room to breathe inside the shower.  

The fear was like a dark smoke clogging your lungs, and every inhale made it harder to breathe. Memories of past baths at that terrible place began washing over your mind, and you whimpered, bringing a claw-extended hand to your mouth to keep quiet. Your Master wanted you to take a bath, you had to do it...  

But Asmo heard your groan. His head popped up to face you from where he was kneeling over the giant tub. “Kitten?”  

His soft-spoken concern had you crying. You sniffled, and your voice echoed in the room, “No bath, please!”  

His orange-yellow eyes widened. “Baby, no, don’t cry,” he begged, quickly rushing to you. He took your hand from your mouth and held it tight, stroking over your knuckles with his thumb. “What’s wrong, do you not want to have a nice bath?”  

Your mouth stretched open into a wail, “Nooooo-”  

He hushed you, and pet your hair with his other hand. “Love, it’s okay, I’m here. Please tell me what’s troubling you, so I can help.” His hands kept caressing you, trying to alleviate your anguish. From your head to your cheeks, he was continuously touching you, grounding you.  

Eventually he took a seat on the bench by your head, and you crawled into his arms, the plug in your butt was uncomfortable but it took a backseat to the emotional distress. Your hands curled around his neck, and your legs outstretched one way over his, and you cried for a little while, his arms rubbing your back and neck, his lips kissing your head and cheeks, shushing you softly.  

“Darling, I have you,” he would say over and over.  

Soon enough you were just shaking, and breathing slowly and with minimal trouble. Your face felt raw, as did your throat. You leaned back a bit from his body to breathe, and glanced at his face. His kind eyes stared into your own, and you gathered the courage to speak on the past that haunted you.  

“They-” you stuttered out, “w-would make m-me go un-nder. Hold m-me, h-hurt me...”  

“You’re talking about where you came from?” he said, tense as he held you.  

“Y-yeah...” you sniffled.  

Flashes of ‘before’ came behind your eyes. Dunked in a large basin with cold water, or too hot water. Your ears got wet and it hurt. They tore your tail with rough scrubbing, and your skin was fire hot and itchy.  

You sobbed dryly. “I-I’m scared...”  

Asmo kissed your head. “Do you want me to go in with you? I can put on my swimsuit, or not. Whatever my Kitten needs.”  

You nodded. That would be better, you thought. Having him close, your Master by your side. “Please, in with me? Um, n-no clothes? But I don’t wana play... Is that okay, Master?”  

He cooed. “Of course, dearheart.” He reached around and grabbed your collar, the bell ringing, “let’s get this off, and then we’ll go in the tub.”  

The collar and leash were taken off, and he lifted you up as he stood. You gasped, not expecting that, and frantically gripped his neck, claws digging in a bit. He winced but said nothing. Then he set you down on the edge of the tub, and you stood on shaky legs. “Put your feet in and tell me if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”  

You did as he asked, dipping a toe in, and it was perfect. You looked up at him and nodded shyly. “The water is fine...”  

He grinned. “Perfect!” He held out his hand, and you took it, and he helped you step in. “Careful, there are steps here to get in.”  

You took a deep breath, each step making it harder. Eventually you were up to your breasts, and he got his clothes off quickly and slipped in the tub, too.  

“Why don’t you go over here, beautiful, so I can take out your plug,” he pointed to the side.  

You bent over the side of the tub, knees on the outer seating but still in the water, just a few inches of your back out of the warmth. He put his hand on your inner thigh and pulled you open, and then grabbed the plug to gently twist and pull. It hurt a little, and you clenched down.  

“No, no, love, you need to loosen up so I can pull it free. Bare down now,” he whispered.  

You did, and it was easier then, and the plug came loose. Your bottom felt open and loose, and he softly rubbed his finger over your abused hole. “Does it feel good, or bad?” he asked matter of fact.  

You shifted from side to side, and winced. “Hurts, not a lot, though.”  

“Hm, that’s very good. Satan used plenty of lube. When we’re done, I'll put some lotion on it to help the aches.”  

You settled back down, sitting carefully on your bottom. He came over and maneuvered behind you, and you felt him against your back, his cock wasn’t hard but it was there, and you suddenly had a thought that you should please him.  

“I-I...”  

He understood, and placed his hands around your body, skin to skin, chest to your back, his head fitting to the side of your face. He was soft and warm. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. Let me wash your hair, and your tail if you’d like that.”  

You were glad of that. You loved pleasing them, but the non-sex stuff you did with them was fun, too.  

“Please... I-I'd like that, Master...”  

“All right then, lovely kitty, we’ll get your hair wet first.”  

He cupped a hand over your eyes, and water was pouring over your head, and he was mindful of your ears, too. You were tense, though, and he paused after he did it the first time. “Kitten, are you okay if I keep going?”  

You swallowed with eyes shut tight. “Y-yes. Just... my ears, please...”  

“I’ll be careful not to get water in them, I promise.”  

He used a cup and poured it over your head, and was patient when you tensed up. He kissed your cheeks, and said how proud he was of you, how brave you were. It made you blush.  

“So sweet~”  

“Master, please...”  

He laughed, and nodded. “Okay baby, now for the shampoo.”  

He lathered up a sweet-smelling shampoo that was on the outside of the tub in a basket and scrubbed it on your scalp. You immediately leaned back into it. “I put some calming oils in the tub for you, and this is one of my favorite shampoos. It softens your hair and smells like cotton candy. You like sweet things, don’t you, Kitten?” he teased.  

You blushed. “Yes, Master, I do...” It was known by now that you liked sweets. Cakes, candy, anything with cream. It was all tasty and you never got to have much.  

“I love sweet things, too. Especially sweet Kittens like the one in my arms,” he bent to kiss your neck, and you shivered. It was a sensitive spot for you, your neck. He just hummed, “Let’s rinse this out, and then we can condition your hair.”  

You were thankful he was telling you what he was doing. You still felt a nervous but having his hands caress you and guide you was perfect.  

He finished rinsing your hair, and it was done. Then he did the same with conditioner, and it was all good, no water in your ears.  

He pecked your cheek. “Such a good job,” he praised. “Can I touch your tail?”  

You nodded, and lifted your tail out of the water. “Here... ‘m sensitive at the base of my tail.” They sort of knew that, but you wanted to double check.  

“Okay, thank you for telling me.”  

He did the shampoo and conditioner and was very gentle, and it was nice to have your tail pet like that. Usually, it was just your ears that got pet, so this was a nice change.  

“Okay, my dear, all done. Do you want to soak, or do you want out?”  

“Out.”  

He didn’t laugh at how quickly you replied and instead helped you stand up. The water dripped down your nude body and the air felt cooling on your skin, your nipples hardening. Asmo didn’t pay mind to that, either, and led you to stand on a rug. He put on a robe and tied it around his waist. You did see his mild erection, but right now you didn’t want to do any of that. Your head wasn’t in the right place, and thankfully your Masters were kind enough not to force you into doing things.  

Asmo was rifling through the closet for towels, picking at them and shaking his head, looking for a specific one obviously. “I have a nice fleece robe for you, and cozy slippers. Do you want me to blow dry your hair, or let it dry naturally?”  

You didn't like the sound of the blow dryer. “No dryer,” you said adamantly.  

He chuckled. “Got it, love.” He used a towel to dry over your body, and you let him, feeling pampered. The towel was so soft and fluffy. You purred, leaning into his touch. “Ugh, you are the most precious little thing ever,” he cooed, kissing at your cheek. Then he grabbed a bathrobe, pink and fluffy, and put it around you loosely.  

“No underwear?” you asked with a frown.  

“Do you want some?” he asked back.  

You pursed your lips, and swished your tail back and forth. The robe was snug and felt soft on your body, so no, you actually didn’t want underwear.  

“No thank you.”  

He nodded. “We have to put cream on your bum anyway, so come this way,” he held out his hand, and took you to his bedroom and had you lay on the bed on your belly. He left for a quick second, and then he was back and lifted the robe up and spread your cheeks open with one of his hands, your puckered hole tensing from the cool air.  

“Master...”  

He hummed, and a cold finger glopped with something rubbed over your hole, dipping inside just so in order to curl and rub. He did this for a few seconds and then his finger was gone. “Good, that’ll help you feel better.”  

You turned your head, and then decided to just roll over on your back. He came over to kiss your nose, and you swiped at his face with your tongue playfully, catching his chin. You felt warm and soft and floaty from the last hour of sex time and bathing, or it could have been longer or shorter, you were not totally sure.  

“Playful Kitten,” he teased. Then your stomach growled. He giggled. “Hungry Kitten, too. It is dinner time.”  

He frowned a second later, and sat on the bed next to you, grabbed his phone and started texting. You leaned over to see him messaging Beel for food. You whined. “Can I have sweets?”  

“After dinner, lovely. We can all have some cake that Barbatos made.”  

Your ears perked up. “Barb made cake?” your stomach growled louder, and your cheeks reddened.  

Asmo cooed. “He came by while we we’re in the bath to drop it off. I'm not sure why or what it was for, but it looks good. And Beel promised to save some for you.”  

There was a knock on the door, and Beel peeked in after Asmo gave the okay to come inside. He held a plate of food, steaming and aromatic. His eyes ran over you, and he seemed satisfited with what he saw and stepped in fully.  

“None for me?” Asmo blinked, but he had a small smile on his face.  

Beel frowned. “Sorry, I only brought food for Kitten.”  

Asmo sighed. “That’s okay, I've been watching my figure lately anyway.”  

Both your Master’s sat on either side of you, and took turns feeding you. It was nice. You leaned back against the soft pillows eventually and yawned.  

Beel’s large hand went to your head, and he smiled. “You should sleep now after eating all that food. Your stomach isn’t as big as mine.”  

You yawned again, and smiled sheepishly. “Yes, Master. Can I have a hug before bed?”  

Beel grinned. He held you to his chest, smoshing you perfectly. He smelled like warm spices, and his hugs were some of your favorite hugs out of all your Masters’ because he was so big—muscles, you meant, not fat. He did work out, and you also liked to lick his sweat from his pecs or neck.  

The red-headed demon kissed your forehead, humming. Then his lips pressed to your cheek, and slid over to your lips. You licked at them for a second, tasting him, but he didn’t let you in. That was okay, though.  

“You get hugs and kisses, little kitty. Always,” Beel said, and he pet your wet hair from your ears and smiled.  

Cheeks flushed, you reached up to peck his lips in one last kiss. “’night.”  

Beel took the plates and turned at the door to smile at you, “Good night, Kitten. Sweet dreams.” He shut the door as he left.  

Asmo wiggled on the bed and whined. “My turn for kisses now!”  

You laughed. “Yes, Master,” you leaned over and gave him several kisses on his soft lips, and one on his nose, your fangs grazing ever so slightly.  

“Kitty has such a lovely mouth,” he sighed.  

You yawned, and reached for him. “Cuddle me?”  

He did not hesitate. “How can I resist that face?”  

He curled himself around you, his fingers went to your bare belly to rub circles, and it soothed your full stomach. His hair was wet at the ends and dripped on you, but you didn’t care. This was exactly where you wanted to be.  

“Sleep tight, lovely,” Asmo whispered in your ear, right as you shut your eyes to enter dreamland.  

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

Episode 4 Rewatch Thoughts

So first of all, I would definitely say that I have...calmed down a considerable amount since my first watch, so to speak. @delyth88 said some things in her rewatch post about being able to adapt to things and enjoy the episode more the second time due to knowing what's coming rather than having to deal with the uncertainty - which I how I feel about it as well and is a trend I experienced with episodes 1-2 as well, and in some ways episode 3. Once I had a chance to recover a bit from the narcissist thing and the romance thing, it turned out there were a lot of things I really liked! The big issues I had haven’t gone away by any means, and honestly a couple of the biggest ones aren’t even things that specifically happened in this episode - the first is just the gradual realization I’m having that I don’t think they are ever going to properly address Loki’s past trauma, and all those plot points the MCU just dropped are probably forever going to stay that way. And that fucking sucks, there’s no reason it had to be like this, and I don’t see how I could ever not be upset about that or truly get over it. The other thing is that it’s just incredibly frustrating and sad to me that all those theories about Loki having some kind of other plan in episode 3 to explain the bizarre incompetence we saw, or payoff for the weirdness that was the TemPad breaking scene, literally just amounted to nothing. All these things I hoped were intentional subtext turned out to just be nothing more than...bad writing? So yeah, I’m pretty disappointed about that. But at this point I’m trying to enjoy the series for what it is as much as I can, and on the second watch I really did enjoy a lot about this episode. So yeah, long-ass intro aside, here are my (hopefully more coherent this time) thoughts about episode 4:

Damn, that scene with Sylvie as a child really highlights how inhumane and barbaric the TVA is. Seeing her in that little prison uniform was...oof. Not that we didn’t already know the TVA was terrible, but I appreciate that they’re making it unmistakably clear for the general audience.

It's genuinely a good thing that they're going into Sylvie's trauma, and it's important to the plot, but I can't even put into words how frustrating it is to see them do that while simultaneously refusing to address Loki's. (you know, the protagonist?)

"Kind of an asshole and a bad friend" LMAO Mobius the TVA was holding Loki captive and was eventually going to kill him, can you really blame the guy for trying to escape?? Also an additional episode establishing that friendship would have been good - as much as I'm glad they consider each other friends, it felt premature for either of them to use that word yet.

I have mixed feelings about the Sif scene - overall I like it, but I do have some issues:

Pros: 

-   Loki whump! Both physical and emotional! (I want to see Loki win but I also like whump. It's complicated. Also I'm confused about where exactly she kneed him? Everyone is saying crotch but the first time he's holding his inner thigh so I thought it was there? Anyway if it is the crotch I'm not a huge fan of that particular decision, but my general feelings about whump still stand.) 

-    Lots of sad Loki faces, talking about fear of being alone - good stuff!

Cons: 

-    The first of the dreaded "narcissist" mentions

-    It’s kind of odd that he never even tried fighting back?

-    This also could have been an opportunity to acknowledge Loki's trauma, and as usual, they did not take it. I would have maybe liked a scene where Odin was being a dick to Loki and we got an acknowledgement of some of the emotional abuse. They probably could've worked Loki's fear of being alone into just about any memory. Did it really have to be a scene about how Loki's in the wrong? And in itself I have no issue with Loki facing the mistakes he's made! But I've been waiting 10 goddamn years for just one character or even a single solitary line of dialogue to acknowledge that Loki was wronged too, and by all appearances it still isn't going to happen and I'm just fucking tired.

And about the narcissist thing - it's frustrating because if they would just do it right, it could actually be really good?? If an element of the story was Loki (and Mobius) thinking he was a narcissist and then realizing he actually isn't, that would be amazing. The problem is, I'm fairly certain they are not going to go that route. I feel like it'll be more along the lines of "yeah you're a narcissist but you can be Good!" instead of acknowledging that Loki was never a fucking narcissist in the first place. Tbh it makes sense that both Loki and Mobius might think Loki's a narcissist, or throw around the term without knowing what they’re talking about - there are great explanations and meta about that - the real problem for me is that, in the eyes of the general audience, it confirmed a harmful and unfortunately very popular misconception about Loki, and it also perpetuates an incorrect view of what a narcissist is. Those are the main reasons I'm mad about it; if they purposefully, explicitly contradict it later it'll probably be fine! I just really don't think they're going to.

Tbh, after the second watch I'm a lot less mad about the shitty things Mobius said while interrogating Loki - it still hurt to hear and I'd still love an apology, but from Mobius' perspective it honestly makes sense that he wouldn't pull any punches considering he thinks Loki is partially responsible for killing the minutemen and Hunter C-20, and is trying to bring down the TVA.

I do still think Mobius turning on the TVA felt rushed. I'm delighted he got there, and the way he realized things made sense - it just happened unrealistically fast. I felt like a lot of things were rushed, and honestly I think more things will probably feel rushed in these last two episodes as well. This is something I felt with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier too - like they needed at least eight if not more episodes to give proper space for the story and character arcs they were trying to squeeze in. Six episodes just isn't enough.

Although, that said, while I still think this episode had weird pacing it didn't really bother me that much on the second watch? Probably because I already knew what the sequence of events was going to be.

The scene when Mobius was pruned was amazing - I loved Loki's emotions, and the way he walks down the hallway still kind of crying but mostly just looking utterly dead inside? *chef's kiss*

The timekeepers scene still felt off to me, and I still can't really articulate why. It honestly doesn't matter that much to me so I don't want to waste time on it, but I guess it just felt...sort of low-budget? Like we already knew the timekeepers probably weren't real/weren't what they seemed, but did they have to look that obviously fake? Idk.

I'm going to make a separate post about the romance stuff, but basically where I’m at with it is: it's a terrible shame to see such beautiful platonic/sibling energy go to waste, I'm real annoyed about it but trying to make peace with it for my own sanity, and I think there are a million clues pointing to it not actually being romantic but I don't trust that any of those were intentional. So I guess we'll see? 

I'm very intrigued by all the Loki variants. Also I'm curious if Mobius is there as well, or if each variant person has their own world? Either way I'll be shocked if Mobius is actually dead (there's a million reasons for that but the main ones are that it's likely pruning doesn't actually kill any of the variants (not just the Loki ones) and anyway he's supposed to be in 5 episodes). I'm really curious about the variant world in general though and I wonder what exactly the dangers are - why Loki "will be [dead]" if he doesn't come with the other Lokis.

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 9

I know it's been nearly four months (just five days shy of four months) and I apologize for that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Thana watched as all of the patrons of the Iceberg Lounge turned to look as they entered. She knew they weren’t the usual crowd, seeing as how Adrien had on a fanny pack, but since they all had red, or some shade of pink, sleeves Uncle Ozzy would let them in.

“I’m sorry. Do I-” Oswald Cobblepott was, fundamentally, a good man. He would never turn away a child in need and he remembered the children he gave shelter to, so imagine his surprise when the person standing in his place of business was none other than the girl who’d managed to burrow under his skin and earn a special nickname. “Chick? Is that- are you- you’re really here?”

Thana let out a laugh and rushed at the man, throwing her arms around his neck before letting out a louder laugh. “I’m taller than you Uncle Ozzy!”

Oswald laughed before his gaze drifted back to the rest of the teens gathered just inside his place of business. “Chick, as much as I love seeing you, who’re they?”

“Oh!” Thana pulled away from Oswald before turning to her friends. “Well, the tall boy with black hair and frosted tips is Kim, the blonde girl is Chloé, the guy with short brown hair is Nino, the other blond is Adrien, and the short sporty girl is Alix. They’re friends I made in Paris, with my mother’s cousin.”

Oswald smiled and waved. “I see my niece has given you a heads up on the dress code around here.”

Kim nodded, a smile on his face. “Mèo con’s always reminding us that we have to wear red when we’re in Gotham, says she’ll ditch us if we don’t.”

Nino snorted before his eyes drifted over to the turntables. “Do you mind if I?”

Oswald smiled and nodded. “Go ahead, you can’t be any worse than my usual guy.”

Nino drifted over to the turntables and began playing some music.

Chloé strode over to the duo, a smile on her face. “It’s so nice to finally meet Fragolina’s Uncle Ozzy.”

“You must be the one my Chick won’t stop saying reminds her of the second Robin.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he pulled Thana close.

Adrien and Alix followed Kim over to the trio, where Kim draped an arm around Chloé’s shoulders. “That’s a possibility.”

---

Thana and her friends, accompanied by Thana’s Uncles Ed and Jon, toured Gotham. Thana made sure to show her friends around, showing them shortcuts to use to get around if they ever get separated from Madame Bustier. Eventually, the group came to an overgrown looking park.

“Uncle Ed, Uncle Jon. I’m going to show them around, and if we run into her introduce them. If we don’t, could one of you text her to let her know where they’re staying so we can do the introductions there?”

“Of course Mini Todd.” Her Uncle Jon nodded and wrapped an arm around Ed, who smiled softly at the act before nodding as well.

“And we’ll keep an eye out for You-Know-Who. He seems to think that you will come crawling back any day now.” Her Uncle Ed rolled his eyes.

“Thank you both so much.” Thana pressed kisses to their cheeks and smiled. “If we ever come across him, I’ll send an SOS to the group chat and then beat his ass.”

Jon and Ed pressed kisses to her cheeks and smiled. “Be safe.”

“With Aunt Pam? Always.” Thana turned towards the park and took a breath, smelling the local flowers and feeling better than she had since she’d been removed from the streets.

---

Thana led her friends around the park, pointing out all of the Poison Ivy original plants and warning her friends to stay away from them since they hadn’t built up an immunity to the toxin within the plants, with a smile on her face. “Aunt Pam always has a new plant that she’s making, and she’s been sorta kinda courting my Aunt Harley since she first saw her, although Aunt Harley used to be with this abusive asshole. I do wonder what happened to Aunt Harley’s daughter, I know she said she was with her sister but still.”

“Who?” Adrien asked, his hand hovering dangerously over a hybrid Venus Flytrap and Trumpet Pitcher plant, as he looked back at the group.

Adrien’s hand was saved by a wall of Boston ivy that shot up out of the ground. A loud scoff could be heard just beyond the plants before a beautiful head of red hair appeared through the leaves. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to touch wild plants?”

Thana smiled and allowed Kim to pull her into his side. “Are all of your relatives ridiculously attractive people?”

“You’ve met my Ma’s cousin,” Thana shrugged and settled more firmly against his side, “and Jervis Tetch is a rotten man, he’s rotten to the core.” Thana’s head rested against Kim’s chest, her ear close to his heart, as she forced thoughts about her birth father out of her head. “My Uncles and Aunts have this friend, Harvey Dent, who’s a little disfigured. He was in this really bad accident a while back and his face is a little hard to look at. He’s kind of nice, never really been mean to me specifically. I think he’s kinda cool though, he’s got a whole schtick about truth and luck.”

Kim nodded, his eyes flitting over the rest of their friends. Kim had never really had a big friend group, not until Thana joined their class, and then suddenly Kim was always around other people, had a shadow who was nearly as protective of him as his Mẹ was, and suddenly his fledgling crush was one of his best friends. Kim would probably always be thankful that Thana showed up when she did. Without Thana, Kim probably would have always been just a dumb jock who fell for some perfect princess. Kim knew his Mè was as thankful as he was that Thana had shown up in their lives, that Thana had stayed after she learned about the skeletons in their closets.

Kim looked at Thana, and he could see how much lighter she was here in what was the darkest city Kim had ever stepped foot in compared to back home. He could only hope that no matter where she went after Lycee, she would keep in contact with him and his Mè.

---

Thana and her friends left Robinson Park just before dinner that evening, her Uncles Jon and Ed escorting them back to the hotel when Thana’s friends went in for the night. Thana, however, followed her friends in and ate a meal with the class before ducking out of the hotel to go spend the night on the streets.

Thana refused to spend any more time in that building than absolutely necessary. She could still feel the cold lead encased in steel as it pierced her abdomen.

Thana hunkered down in an old spot, one she knew like the back of her hand, and could only hope that she would be safe here. She could only hope that she wouldn’t catch a cold while she slept on the streets.

Thana’s friends, however, slept fitfully that night in their comfortable beds in the hotel. Their thoughts filled with worry about Thana on the streets.

-*-*-*

Jason puttered around the kitchen, his feet encased in his slippers, and let out a yawn. He looked at the counter and noticed the already full coffee pot. He glanced around the room and frowned when he didn’t see anything before the sound of the TV reached him a moment later. “Duke?”

Duke’s head popped up over the back of the couch and he gave Jason a sheepish smile. “Yeah?”

Jason let out a breath and his whole body sagged for a moment. “Just had to make sure. Little twitchy after our late night visitor last night.”

“Who stopped by last night?” Duke stood up off of the floor and walked into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the counters like Tim, Steph and Cass had started doing.

Jason set his coffee mug (which read “World’s Greatest Dad” in a similar red to his helmet) down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “The Bat.” Jason turned to the fridge to pull out the coffee creamer, but frowned when the only creamer left was the Southern Butter Pecan Pie flavour. He simply reached past and grabbed the milk to add to his coffee instead of creamer. “He wanted to know why I’d ‘taken you as well’. Because he sees you all as things to be taken and not children to be taken care of.”

---

Jason pressed a kiss to Steph and Cass’ foreheads before hitching Damian further up on his hip. “I’ll be back later. I just need to take Damian to finish introducing him to his aunt’s aunts and uncles. Unless of course, you two wish to join us.”

Steph looked at Cass and shrugged. “Timmy’s got work. I think Bart is out running around.”

Cass nodded before mussing up her hair and frowning at her sister in question.

“Kon might be in Kansas, I think he mentioned going to visit Clark’s parents. Cassie is hanging out with Donna, getting advice most likely. Cissie is spending the day with Oliver.” Steph slung an arm around Cass’ shoulders and smiled. “Give us a few minutes to get dressed and then we’ll join you.”

Jason nodded, a small smile on his face. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Steph and Cass disappeared into the room they had officially claimed, coming out a few minutes later in coordinated outfits.

Steph walked out wearing a dark purple crop top with black shorts and a black sweater tied around her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and a pair of black sunglasses, easily recognized as Kon’s, sat atop her head.

Cass, who walked out just a step behind Steph, wore a black t-shirt under a black and yellow flannel paired with black high-waisted jeans. Her hair was freely flowing around her shoulders while her wrists sported scrunchies she’d pilfered from Cassie and Cissie.

Jason shook his head at his sisters, Cass who was just a scant six months older than he was but acted so much younger and Steph who was just a few months older than Tim, and smiled. “Any particular reason for the attire today?”

“Just felt like coordinating.” Steph smiled at Jason and slung an arm around Cass. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

---

Jason led the way into the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, his sisters just behind him and Damian clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping him attached to the planet.

“So, not to question your sanity or anything but, why are we here?” Stephanie’s voice was filled with trepidation and Cass’ arm was wrapped around Steph’s in an act of comfort for both girls.

“One of Thana’s uncles is here right now. He’ll be out soon. Do not compare him to the guy who killed me.” Jason smiled at the guards on duty and continued into the building.

The person at the front desk, a young individual of indeterminate gender with short brown hair and brown eyes, looked up from the clipboard in front of them and deadpanned. “Name of the patient you’re here to see?”

“Jerome Valeska. He should be expecting me, Jason Todd.” Jason smiled and shifted slightly so Damian’s face was more comfortably buried in his neck. “My son and sisters will also be joining us today.”

The receptionist nodded and jotted down the details relayed to them. “Identification?”

Jason handed over his identification card while Steph and Cass pulled out their driver’s licenses. “My son is only nine and only has a passport, will that work?”

The receptionist nodded and smiled. “A passport will work.”

Jason pulled Damian’s passport out of his pocket and handed it over. “We’ll come back to collect those when we’re finished visiting.”

“Have a good visit.”

“Thank you.” Jason smiled and led the way back into the rehabilitation center, his sisters sticking close to his back with their free hands clinging to the back of his shirt just over where Damian’s leg rested, passing the cells filled with the more humane residents of the asylum. Jason paid them no mind, having grown used to their hooting and hollering as he passed on his previous visits.

The little four person group of the family finally reached the rehabilitation center and were let in by one of the orderlies, a bulkier individual dressed in teal scrubs. They all gave the orderly a smile and a nod as they passed into the room.

Jerome was sitting at a table with blank sheets of paper mixed in with sheets of paper filled with writing, and as soon as Jason could read what was on the paper he could see that the pages were filled with apologies and plans to become a better person if for no one other than his favourite niece and her wellbeing. Jerome looked up when Jason started to cast a shadow across his paper. “Hey buddy. You’re standing in my- Jason! What a surprise!”

Jason’s face grew soft, a smile on his face and pulled out the chair next to Jerome to sit down in. Damian was settled into Jason’s lap while Steph and Cass sat down in the chairs next to Jason’s. “How are you today Jerome?”

“I’ve been better.” Jerome had been better, before his parents and his uncle died, before his twin fell apart and brought him down with him. Jerome had been happy in the circus, performing with his family for crowds of people who adored their act, and then everything changed.

“Jerome, I’d like you to meet my son. Damian al Ghul-Todd, nephew of your niece Thana Todd, as well as my sisters, Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown.”

“Oh come on Jace. Why’d you have to use last names?” Steph pouted and punched Jason’s upper arm.

“Because now that Uncle Jerome knows of your parentage he’ll be less likely to toss anything you say aside.” Jason smiled as Jerome spoke about himself in the third person.

“What he said.” Jason let out a chuckle. Damian frowned at the lack of attention he was receiving and simply headbutted Jason in the chin. “Yes, yes, we know you’re here Kutlat Saghira. I’m sorry that we’re not paying attention to you.”

Damian pouted and puffed out his cheeks. “Baba, not here.”

Jason smiled at his son, knowing that he was safe in his arms. “I love you my Little Nugget.”

“Baba!” Damian frowned and looked towards the table, effectively ignoring the four other people at the table.

Steph and Cass watched the moment between father and son, sharing only a look before looking back at the duo.

Jerome watched as his niece’s brother smiled at his child, glad that he got to see it but all he really wanted was to see Thana.

“She’s in the city.” Jason’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the lull of the rest of the patients in the center. “She’s in the city and she, she got so big Jerome. She has a really good group of friends. You’d be proud of her.”

Taglist:

@amigotasbien @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182 @greatcatblaze @thatonecroc @vixen-uchiha @superbwhispersconnoisseur @sauseyyy @susiej1118 @bluesimani @thatonecroc

[lupismaris]

sorry you’re feeling so crappy 😔 i hope you feel better soon!!

if you’re feeling up to it, maybe silverflinthamiltons on a lake or beach vacation?

SILVERFLINTHAM LAKESIDE HOLIDAY PART 1 with a surprise! and another segment to follow because this is them arriving to the lake!

(this got long so most of it will be under the cut.)

***

It was summer.

Summer meant blistering asphalt and bags of trash stewing on the curb each morning. Hazy sunlight blinding the street, dark cavernous pockets of shade where the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, but the air stayed stale and suffocating all the same. It meant too many people and too much noise and parties in the park that never seemed to end, one just replacing another in an endless cycle of hedonism, and bottles of chilled wine and cheap beer sweating on the fountain walls. It meant long dinners and longer lunches, ice cream trucks and Italian ice carts on opposite corners of the street carrying on an old world rivalry. It meant golds and blues and lush greens wherever your eyes happened to fall, be it on a back alley garden or storefront window display.

Silver loved summer.

He loved the warmth and the sprawling picnics and the baring of skin and the feral energy of a child free from school amplified to suit a city of millions and the heady summer storms that shook the glittering skyline in a kind of holy cleanse. He loved the summer fruits and the sweet aperitifs and the old school white linen shirts and open fire hydrants flooding the streets and the neon lights reflecting in the puddles left behind, still evaporating in the hot night, giving the whole world an ethereal glow.

Though he had to admit it was always better spent on a beach with a frosted drink and not a goddamn thing to do. But, if a beach couldn’t be procured, a big, cool, well air conditioned house that was paid for by someone else was an excellent alternative. His sister’s condo in Chelsea for instance was an excellent place to waste away a summer on parties and sun bathing and a private pool that no one else seemed to have the time to use. He had spent several summers with Max that way, even once the Rangers had become part of the picture, if Silver was on the east coast for the summer, he would drop in and waste away a while.

Now though, it looked like summers were going to be spent in Brooklyn, in the big cool townhouse that Thomas had paid for, with the truly miraculously internal air con that was always kept at a balmy 65 degrees from May to October, and with very little to do outside of whatever suited his fancy on any given day. Oh and sex, a lot of sex. This would be the first summer in a very long time where he could not only allow himself a libido, but he could also satiate it.

Silver was thoroughly content with the new circumstances.

He was less content however, with how the summer months, or maybe just the summer months in the city, seemed to bring out the worst in people as frequently as it did the best.

Flint, for example, did not handle summers as well as Silver did. In part it was due to the heat and the sun and the weird smells coming off the steamy side walks, and Silver understood Flint’s frustration with all that, he truly did. But summer also meant more tourists and more people going out for a good time, more people starting brawls in bars and fights in the street and parties spilling over from one bar to the next, or worse packs of bigots making the rounds and harassing whomever they find, everything the working class service folks of the city dreaded- in short, Flint’s stress levels seemed to just rise with the temperature. And considering an average day in July might easily crack 100, Silver was starting to get a tad worried.

“Is it like this every summer?” Silver had asked one Friday morning in June.

The kitchen was soft with the morning sunlight, Thomas in his silk night shirt and robe as he perused the menu for the cafe on the corner, Silver fixing them each an espresso.

“To a point yes. You know how James is about control,” Thomas said with a fond smile, “when he’s at his best he can combat every threat to his sovereignty without so much as flinching. But the summer gets to him, makes him a bit of a wolf in a cage, so to speak.”

“Was he worse in Manhattan?” the buildings sometimes reminded Silver of a cell block, the slivers of sunlight cutting through as hot as cattle prods.

“Much. Hal has tried talking him into not working as much in the summer, but you know how he is, can’t be told anything once he’s got his mind made up. Not to mention he’s never been good at simply existing. There always has to be purpose in it, work to be done, fields to plow and what not.”

Silver huffed a laugh and brought Thomas’ espresso over, feeling a sense of warmth at the notion that he and Thomas were able to share this, to share flint and all his eccentricities.

“I’m sure a man as clever as you thought of some way to keep his blood pressure down, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Thomas took the espresso cup without looking away from the menu. He set it aside and pulled Silver in, kissing him sweetly in thanks. Ah, that was also a nice thing to share with Thomas, Silver reminded himself.

“Oh I came up with a few ideas, pet. How about we order breakfast, and I’ll tell you about them.”

By Friday, the three of them were packed into Flint’s old Range Rover heading upstate for two weeks of holiday bliss. It had taken multiple phone calls to Gates to make sure the bar would in fact be alright while Flint was gone and to make sure he barred Flint from being within a dozen yards of The Walrus once it closed on Thursday night. It had also taken coaxing, convincing, bartering, and eventually outright bribery with sex to get Flint to stop scowling about the idea of being away from his “ship” for longer than a weekend. There had been other phone calls as well, placed by Thomas in the early hours of the morning when he thought he was the only one awake. When asked about them he just waved the questions away with a mild, “oh just a little extra surprise for James thats all” and Silver did his best to trust him.

It was a five hour drive from the house in Brooklyn to the house on Lake Cayuga that Thomas had purchased during his recovery, to he and Flint would have a quiet place to heal and make up for lost time without the strain of the city grating on them. Silver had never been upstate, his various clients had always preferred houses in the Hamptons, but from the photos it was a cozy little cottage style house right on the shore, a couple bedrooms, an airy kitchen, lush garden, and a private pier that stretched out into the lake. There was also apparently a boat, a little hybrid sailboat of polished wood and deep blue paint, the name Ariel written in careful golden script. Silver wanted to ask whether Flint had bought it or built it, because he was the kind of high strung man to just build a boat from scratch instead of buying one or scheduling extra therapy. But the scowl on his face as they tucked the suitcases into the trunk told him it wasn’t worth the teasing. Not yet anyway.

Flint insisted on driving the whole five hours himself, scowling silently behind the wheel as he drove them through miles of lush farmland, leaving Thomas and Silver to chat about what they might do once they get settled in. There was plenty of hiking, though Thomas was worried the gorges might be tricky for Silver’s regular prosthetic, ample water falls and countless parks to explore. Lots of quaint small towns with seafood shacks and local fare and more wineries than even Thomas knew what to do with. And of course, most importantly, there was the lake.

Flint kept his silence till the last hour of the ride, the scowl firmly set on his jaw. Silver and Thomas had switched seats so Thomas could stretch out and nap in the back seats, leaving Silver to try and coax a smile out of his partner. Not that he had to do much. As the car climbed yet another rolling hill, Silver watched the horizon, his hand in Flint’s, trying to figure out whether the deep blue streak that had suddenly appeared was a dark patch of sky.

It wasn’t, for the record.

Silver frowned and turned to Flint, planning to ask if it was the lake and exactly how big was said lake- but the question died well before he could even open his mouth.

The scowl was gone, dropped from Flint’s face and replaced by the softest look of wonder Silver had ever seen on the man, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making his mustache twitch. It was as if something had hooked its line into Flint’s chest and was slowly reeling him in, his whole body sitting straighter, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out until he was leaning into the steering wheel. His hand even held tighter to Silver’s, an unconscious need to keep himself tethered maybe, or to keep Silver close.

“Is that the lake?” Silver managed to ask with a soft smile of his own.

“Yeah. We’ll be at the cabin in half an hour.”

They got there in twenty minutes, not that anyone was actually counting.

The lake stretched out before them, a sea of deep blues and aquamarines, glittering with the hot late June sunlight that danced across it’s surface. It’s shores were patched with wildflowers and thick thatches of wood, little clusters of cabins and boat houses, who’s owners were out skipping across the surface like dragon flies on their small boats and kayaks. The afternoon air was hazy and sweet, the whole scene a postcard from the mythical summers of memory that everyone aspired to, bird song and the low hum of the radio escorting them along the final stretch of route 90. Flint pulled them down a narrow side road, passing a few comfortably sized homes with ample space between them, until they reached the dead end of the street, and the little cottage Silver had seen in the photos, with the shadow of the pier dark across the water, and the Ariel waiting like a loyal dog in her berth.

“Oh good,” Thomas said with a yawn, finally pulling himself back into a sitting position and stretching, as Flint pulled the car into the drive alongside what looked like a rental car. “I was starting to think we were lost.”

Silver looked back at him, ready to tease about old men and naps, but Thomas was looking down at his phone, his fingers quickly switching on the stop watch. “Thomas what-”

The range rover lurched to a sudden stop as Flint hit the brakes and Silver had to cling to the seat to keep himself upright. Thomas seemed completely unfazed, draped across the back seat in his half buttoned linen shirt and designer sunglasses, watching with an air of fond expectation as Flint threw on the parking brake and booked it from the car, leaving the engine running.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Silver asked.

Thomas laughed and reached around the driver’s seat to shut the car off. “Exactly what I expected him to do, though I’ll admit I expected him to at least properly stop the car first.”

“What? Thomas- oh my god he’s going in the lake?” Silver asked, watching as Flint cleared the back fence and striped off his shirt, leaving it on the lawn as he kept moving towards the pier. His boots, socks, and jeans followed, barely breaking his quick stride to strip them off.

“Last time it took him a whole ten minutes to get into the water,” Thomas said, helping Silver, who was too busy staring in shock at the sight of his stern and stoic partner racing across the back patio like a child, from the car. “He might clear five minutes this time.”

A few more quick strides and Flint dove from the end of the pier, breaking the surface of the lake with a thunderous sound and disappearing into the blue.

“He’s in the lake,” Silver said.

Thomas hooked their arms together, the two of them walking leisurely across the lawn. “Every visit, the first thing he does is go to the water. It’s even more dramatic when it’s the ocean, maybe I’ll book us a house on the coast next month.”

“More dramatic than stripping down to his boxers in the back yard?” he asked.

The back lawn of the house was a mix of a large patio and and a short green, with a fire pit and a grill, a small dining table and some cozy chairs, and what silver hoped was a hot tub. A woman was stretched out on one of the long beach chairs in a deep green bikini, her dark hair cut short and a magazine across her lap, though she was watching the water, where Flint had just resurfaced for a moment before diving again.

“Miranda?” Silver called, aware that Thomas was beaming behind him but not at all surprised to see his ex wife. That explained the phone calls, and the rental car out front.

“I believe our husband is in the lake my dears,” Miranda called with a laugh, getting up to come greet them. “God he’s like a little boy at a swimming hole.”

“I’d ask how you got here but that seems almost silly,” Silver said, letting her pull him into a tight hug. They had taken to each other from the first, which had left Thomas and Flint a little uneasy. Miranda’s humor matched his, her wit sharp and familiar, and Silver had learned very quickly why Flint and Thomas were both still in love with her. He wasn’t far from it himself.

“Thomas called, said James needed an intervention,” She said, letting him go to kiss Thomas hello and hug him tight. “I’m on break from teaching this summer and the fall concert season hasn’t started yet, could I come out and join you for a couple weeks? Which was a silly question, I was buying a ticket the moment he suggested it.”

Thomas kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. “I had hoped you might be his surprise before he jumped in the lake, I’m sorry my dear.”

Silver watched them, feeling a bit dizzy. They were were a perfect pair, Miranda dark and elegant under Thomas’ arm, the cool dusk sky to Thomas’ golden hour sun.

“Don’t be, I’ll go down to him, maybe join him in the water for a bit.” She kissed his cheek, then Silver’s. “There’s some snacks laid out in the kitchen and dinner will be delivered in a couple hours, why don’t you get the bags inside and then come join us. Maybe we can even take Ariel out before dinner.”

“Oh now there’s an idea,” Thomas agreed, moving to go back and fetch the bags from the car. “Tell our husband we’ll join you in a moment. If you can manage to get him up for air.”

Miranda laughed, a bright sunny sound that always reminded Silver of how she played piano, and made her way down to the pier. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the pier, as the surface of the water broke and Flint emerged, staring up at her in shock. Silver heard her laughing, saw her reach out and watched as Flint reached up and pulled her into the lake with a joyful shout of her name. They were lost for a moment to the water, kicking up waves as Flint held her tight and danced them around, clumsy and free. Behind him Silver could hear Thomas laughing, felt his hand as it came to rest warm and sure on his lower back, pulling him in close, as he said something about wishing they’d gotten that on film.

For Silver, it was one of those moments where suddenly he remembered what all those old love songs were written about. He understood it.

And it was finally his.

[harryspet]

rogue angel [4] bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, daddy bucky, non con forced age regression, dd lg dynamic, ab dl dynamic, drugging, fluff, play-date fun, little editing

A/N: Hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think! Not as smutty as the last chapter but hopefully pretty cute.

In which you go on a play-date. 

series masterlist

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.4k

You saw something shift within Bucky after your escape attempt. You weren’t one for recognizing people’s emotions or even caring about them but that sad look on his face was starting to bother you. Starting. 

The thing in the back of your mind reminded you it was only his weakness but it was getting hard for you to stay strong these days. The next few days that passed were quiet, mostly because you were gagged by a pacifier and Bucky only opened his mouth to coo sweet nothings into your ear. 

Things were quiet. You had experienced silence before but not like this. This silence was serene and you even found yourself growing used to the gag. The worst part was that you started sucking on it unconsciously and, when he removed it at times, you found yourself missing the feeling. 

You were being soothed by the pacifier as you moved on your knees around the coffee table, helping Bucky put together a puzzle. A soft love song from the old days was playing in the background, only adding to the calm you felt. 

You liked the activities like this, where you felt you could still use your brain, even if it was a giant puzzle of Olaf. The movies you watched together were starting to grow on you too. He noticed you slipping into a lighter headspace but didn’t dare to comment on it. He was more subtle now, more patient than before. 

You had just put together Olaf’s nose when you felt a pressing on your bladder. It brought you out of your quiet moment as you looked up to see Bucky intensely concentrating on putting together the edges of the puzzle. 

Thinking for a moment about your plan of action, you reached over to tap him on the shoulder. He looked up, worried for a moment until he realized that you were just pointing to between your legs. He’d forced you back into the pampers after your punishment but, if you asked him nicely, he’d let you use the “big girl toilet”. 

Whatever he’d given you to make your legs weak before, he gave you again and you were learning to use your legs all over again. You could stand up on your own for a few moments but you’d end up falling down to your knees seconds later. 

“Potty?” He asked and you nodded, your cheeks heating up. You hated how you could get used to the pacifier and pigtails but not the embarrassment of him helping you in the restroom, “Okay, princess.”

He scooped you up like he always did and carried you to the downstairs bathroom. Another thing you were getting used to was his touch. As he set you down in the bathroom, your own fingers unclasped the buttons of your onesie, and you looked up to find him staring. You made a circling motion with your finger and he got the hint that you needed him to turn around. 

He did as you wanted and you took the opportunity to slip down the pamper and take a seat. You began to hum one of the songs he always played to distract yourself knowing Bucky was listening, “If I give my heart to you, will you handle it with care, will you always treat me tenderly, and in every way be fair”

You were starting to realize why people used music and movies to entertain themselves. They were a good distraction from reality. He was starting to rub off on you, Bucky could tell. 

When you were finished, Bucky turned around to help you stand up but you insisted that you could do it yourself. Bucky was practicing his patience once again. Bucky watched you struggle a bit but accomplish what you wanted on your own. You stood long enough to dress again and wash your hands but Bucky was there to hand you a hand towel. 

Then you were back in his arms again, “What do you say we finish our puzzle and then have a nap?” You only nodded, resting your head on his shoulder, your legs wrapped around his legs. It was little things like that Bucky noticed you would do that would make his heart warm. You were much more willing and accepting of affection when Bucky let you have your small amount of independence. 

Puzzlemaking really tired you out and, although you felt accomplished looking at you and Bucky’s work, your eyes felt heavy. Naps had been another thing you’d been getting used to and now your body was starting to get tired around the same time every day. 

As Bucky carried you to your room for your nap, you held onto him tight, not wanting him to set you down in the bed, “I know you’re tired, baby,” Bucky sighed, seeing how you clung to him. He wanted to be selfish and hold you longer, “When you wake up-”

You moaned in annoyance and a small smile crossed Bucky’s lips. You weren’t that tired and you wouldn’t sleep no matter how many stickers and cookies he promised you. He tried to pry you away once again but your grip was tight. It was times like this that Bucky remembered you were a soldier. 

Bucky took a deep breath before he carried you from the room. You lifted your head from his shoulder, in shock, thinking that you had won. Instead, Bucky brought you down the hall to …. his room. In the days you had been there, you hadn’t stepped foot inside. 

It was cabin style like the rest of the home but still had a modern flare. His room was simple compared to yours, a kind sized bed in the middle of the room decorated by a plaid comforter. There wasn’t much else in the room except a gigantic bookcase and doors that probably led to a bathroom and closet. 

You finally let go as he pulled back the fabric of the comforter, setting you down. Bucky was tempted to take off his shirt and shorts and sleep like he normally did but he figured he didn’t want to scare you even further. Your eyes widened as he slipped in beside you, pulling the covers over the both of you. 

This was not what you had in mind. This was worse than what he was originally going to do. 

Not wanting your back to him, you turned to face him. That might’ve been a mistake but, as Bucky’s soft blue eyes gazed into yours, you felt the same as you did at the lake that one day. Bucky’s hand found your waist and you hated how calm you felt. If there was a time to panic, this was it, yet you didn’t, “Sleep, please.”

You hesitated, huffing in frustration before you shut your eyes. Bucky watched you slip into dreamland and, he found it quite comforting watching you sleep. As soon as you were deep enough, he removed the gag around your mouth. You had been relatively good all week and he was starting to trust you again. 

What surprised him was that, as soon as the gag was gone, you replaced it with your thumb. He could watch you for hours and, until you woke up, he did. 

+

Bucky was taking you somewhere. His answers to your questions were vague but you knew you had to take the car to get there. That meant you could get a better gauge about where he was keeping you and maybe … you realized how long it had been since you thought about escaping. 

Things had been going smooth since your little nap with Bucky yesterday and, even without the gag, the words you exchanged were peaceful. If you called him Daddy, he was even more satisfied. 

Even if you did get a chance to escape, you wouldn’t want to be found in this outfit. In the backseat of the red truck, you were just a pile of frills and ribbons, a perfect daisy. Your dress was a soft yellow color and had frilly, off the shoulder sleeves in order to match the ribbons tied around your braided hair. 

Bucky handed you your snack, a sippy cup of apple juice, and a plastic bag of cheerios before closing the back door. He piled into the front seat and you stared down at the bottle. You thought he might be trying to make you gain weight or something. Every meal of the day was prepared for you plus snacks. He liked making sure you were taken care of in that way. 

You put it to your lips, sipping, as Bucky’s hand gripped the back of the passenger seat. He looked out the back window as he backed out of the driveway. As soon as you got onto the road, you asked, “I don’t understand why I can’t sit in the front,” You spoke, your voice in a sing-song tone. 

Bucky looked at you from the rearview mirror, finding it amusing how you tried to seem tough while dressed in such a cute way. He turned on the radio and they were, oldies, of course. You took in the melody as your eyes stared at the trees passing by. You could do this … you could connect the dots and figure out … 

“Daddy ...,” He looked up to the mirror to see the juice was taking its effect, your eyelids looking heavy, “I like the music … you play.”

“I’m glad, angel. Just listen to the music, we’ll be there soon.”

Your lips were pulled into a lazy smile as you leaned your head back, drinking more of your juice. 

The drugs weren’t meant to knock you out, just disorient you for a little while he drove to the city. Eventually, it wouldn’t matter if you knew where they were but, for now, Bucky thought it would be best if you didn’t. It was a long drive to the city and Wanda would be expecting them by lunch. 

The next time you could really remember anything, you were in Bucky’s arms and he was carrying you through a lobby. Surprisingly, no one even looked your way and you thought you might be going crazy. You had a feeling that if you screamed for help no one would help you. Being in public made you nervous and Bucky only gripped you tighter, rubbing a soothing hand down your side. 

A lot of people seemed to recognize him, and some even nodded their heads with respect towards him. He was a sharp contrast to you, dressed mostly in black, the only pop of color being the baby bag he was carrying. As the doors to the elevator closed, Bucky spoke, “We’re going to meet one of my good friends and her little boy. I want you to be on your best behavior, angel.” 

Your eyes widened at that and you pouted, “I don’t want to meet anybody.”

“It will be fun,” Bucky promised and the elevator stopped at one of the top floors. You passed a few white doors, labeled by gold numbers, “And you will be kind and respectful towards them. I’m sure you don’t want to have a punishment in front of them.”

You weren’t sure what you expected when Bucky rang the doorbell to the apartment and the door opened. As the brunette woman appeared in the doorway, she smiled wide and Bucky returned it, “I’m so glad you came! Come in, come in,” You took in her appearance before your face turned toward Bucky’s neck. You didn’t understand how he expected you to be comfortable like this. You’d only just gotten used to him. 

She had an accent that you placed as Sokovian and, although something about her was familiar, you couldn’t quite place it. She was dressed in a black dress and a cardigan. You took in the apartment and, although you were only standing in the foyer, you could tell the rest was luxurious. 

“Thank you for having us, I see you’ve cleaned up for the occasion” Bucky smiled, and you hadn’t realized before how charming he could be. 

It was true, the house was in tip-top shape, “The little one likes making a mess. I just sent him to his room to straighten up …” Wanda took a step towards Bucky, trying to get a better glimpse of your face, “Don’t be shy, beautiful.”

“Y/N, this is Wanda,” Bucky introduced you but you only shook your head, tucking your face back into his neck, “She’s adjusted well this week, I’d just give her a moment to warm up.”

Wanda understood. After losing both her brother and Vision, she didn’t think she’d be able to open up again, “Well, let's let the little ones mingle first. Then I can give you a tour since all the renovations are done.”

The apartment had been upgraded to a Tony Stark level of tech in order to keep her little one safe. Bucky had been interested in learning more which was another reason for the visit. Walking through the luxurious apartment made you miss the cabin. Just a little. Everything was nice here it didn’t have the same warm feeling as Bucky’s home. 

Wanda led the two of you down the hallway to a set of white double doors, and as she pushed them open, it revealed a bedroom similar to yours. Instead of the pink accents, there was blue but the same excessive amount of stuffed animals. 

“Rory, we have guests!” She called for the missing boy as all of you stepped into the room. 

Wanda knew exactly where he was. Wanda had found him homeless and displaced after the snap, stealing on the streets until she had taken him in. She knew he had a thing for enclosed spaces, they made him feel safe so when she pulled open the closet door, she found him. He was sitting at the bottom holding his “special” flashlight and he was flipping through the pages of a comic book. 

“There you are, bubba,” Wanda leaned down to his height, holding out her hand to him, “I dressed you nicely, expecting you wouldn’t wrinkle them so quickly. Come meet your new friend.”

When the boy stood up, you weren’t expecting him to be a few inches taller than her. You were expecting an actual child but, just like you, he was an adult. He was probably the same age as you too. He had a smile on his face as he looked at you and your eyebrows raised in confusion. 

Rory was dressed in a pair of navy dress shorts, held up by a pair of suspenders, and a white dress shirt decorated by small pictures of dinosaurs. He was being treated just like you were, yet he seemed happy. Wanda’s hand reached up to his back, rubbing it, “Y/N, this is Rory,” He waved to you though you didn’t return it. Had you officially lost it? “Where’s your gift for her, bubba?”

“A gift?” Bucky spoke up, “You didn’t have to, Wanda.”

“It was Rory’s idea,” Wanda insisted, as the boy turned back to rummage through the closet. It was a giraffe plushie, a yellow gift bow wrapped around it’s next. The boy came up to give it to you but, as you turned your head away, Bucky took it for you, “I told Rory about how much you like giraffes, Y/N.”

Great, that meant Bucky was telling her everything. Did she know about the kind of punishment he gave you? Did she do the same to Rory? 

“She loves drawing them and now she has a real one to cuddle with,” Bucky said gratefully, talking in the same way he did to you, “Thank you, Rory.”

Rory blushed, tucking himself behind Wanda, “Remember how shy you were when you first met me, bubba, that’s how Y/N is now. Make sure you’re nice and gentle with her, okay?”

Bucky set you down on the carpet decorated like a train track and you realized he was going to leave you there. You panicked, trying to stand up on your wobbly legs but Bucky gently pushed you back down, “D-Daddy, I-I don’t want-”

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Daddy will be back in a short while,” He placed the giraffe plushie in your hands, “Be a nice little girl for Daddy, okay?”

He kissed your forehead and you realized how abnormal it was for you to cling to him. You hated that deep down you would rather be with him than a stranger. 

Wanda pecked Rory’s lips before she tiptoed out the room with Bucky. You watched as the doors shut quietly. Your eyes met with Rory who was standing their shyly. You looked away, taking a deep breath before you heard, “I like your dress,” Rory said, getting down on his knees beside you. It seemed he had the luxury of being able to walk, “You look like Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”

You weren’t sure what he was talking about but you thought the name suited your current situation. 

You looked him over again, his neatly combed brown hair and his golden-brown eyes. He looked like a doll and you guess that’s what you looked like too, “Who is that?”

“She’s a princess!” He rushed out, eager to explain. You backed away as he moved closer to you, “In a movie …”

“You like princesses?” You questioned, your brow furrowing. 

“I like lots of things like planes, velociraptors, the color green, sprinkles, and superheroes like my Mommy,” he continued, “What do you like?”

Again, you weren’t sure why it mattered. You didn’t answer his question and he got the hint. You looked around the room for a point of escape. The main window seemed not to even open and you imagined the drop down would be deadly, “Did you know that giraffes are the tallest mammals in the world?” You shook your head, “I read that in a book.”

Your head cocked to the side, realizing you had never thought about it, “How tall are they?” You looked down at your plushie. 

“Male giraffes can be up to eighteen feet tall,” You wondered what other random facts he knew, “I have a name idea for your plushie.”

“What is it?” You asked hesitantly. 

“Larry Longneck.”

A small smile threatened to tug at your lips, “That’s dumb.”

“Is not,” He countered. 

“It is,” You responded, “It’s not cute at all. Besides, she’s obviously a girl.”

“Lucy Longneck?”

You sighed, “Lucy sounds okay, she’ll go by her first name.”

Knowing you had chosen the name he suggested excited him, “Do you want to play veterinarian?”

“How?”

You watched as he moved to his toy chest, pulling out a fake stethoscope and thermometer. He grabbed a polar bear plushie as well and brought it to the carpet before you, “Nurse, I need you to get some water and some bandages, this animal is bleeding out,” Rory’s voice shifted into a deep, cartoonish voice, “Hurry up, we’re losing him!”

You weren’t sure how you’d get hot water before Rory grabbed your hand, folding it into a fist and turning it to the side, “Quick, pour it on, we have to clean the wound,” You tilted your hand over the bear, pretending that you were pouring a pitcher of water, “Good, now bandages!”

You thought for a moment before pulling out one of the yellow ribbons in your hair and handing it to him, “Good thinking, Y/N, you might have just saved his life,” You watched with a real smile as Rory wrapped the ribbon around the stuffed bear. Suddenly, Rory looked up with fear in his eyes, “Oh no.”

“What is it?” You asked quickly, your eyes wide. 

“The bleeding isn’t stopping …”

“We’ll have to cut him open, Doc.”

+

Bucky watched the boy and girl through the small tablet Wanda was holding. Rory already had her playing pretend with him and you had gone along with it. You looked like you were having fun, “I think she’s doing better than you think,” Wanda spoke honestly, “Maybe we should put off using my powers on her?”

Last week when you had tried to escape, Bucky seriously considered warping your reality to his favor. He could use Wanda to show you your past, make you realize that everything he claimed was true.

“I’ll give her more time.”

Wanda patted his shoulder, “She’s gonna love me and Rory by the end of today. All my Mommy friends say I plan the best play dates.”

Bucky chuckled, “I look forward to it, Ms. Maximoff.”

+

I imagine Rory as Peter Parker in my mind. I wanted to put him in the story but I couldn’t think of a way to make it work with the post-endgame plotline. 

What are your predictions for the future of the story?

[rjhpandapaws]

sick Connor for the ask prompt? 👀

//oooh? I like this //Android Connor with a Virus

Hank was widely out of his depth. Connor had contracted a virus from one of the computers in evidence in the DPD. It was a failsafe of some kind that the perp had stuck on it in case an android tried to investigate her computer. Hank hated seeing him like this. In the android equivalent of a fevered haze. His soulful brown eyes coming in and out of focus, synthskin flickering on and off. He tried answering Hank the first couple of times he had checked in, but what had come out the first time was a loud blast of static, the second time was a high pitched tone that had sent both Hank and Sumo out of the room for the sake of their hearing. Hank didn’t know what to do. There was Kamski obviously, but the idea of taking Connor back to the Villa left a bad taste in his mouth. He also didn’t want to come to owe the eccentric genius a favor later on. Jericho then? Chloe was there, she knew just about all there was to know about androids, being the first of them. Could he get Connor to the car? Did he really have a choice? He didn’t know what this virus was doing to him, Nines had offered to interface but that was too big of a risk for Hank to be comfortable with. He peeked back into the living room to find Connor without his skin and brown eyes staring at nothing again. He needed to call Josh. He opened his phone and hit the android’s contact, he hoped he wasn’t interrupting anything by calling this early in the day, but this was an emergency and he needed help. Josh answered almost immediately.

“Hank?” Concern laced his voice. Hank couldn’t hear anything in the background so Hank assumed he was in Josh’s head for the time being. He had probably interrupted him at work then, “Is something wrong?” “Its Connor.” He said in a rush, “At worth this morning he interfaced with a computer in the evidence lock up and something is wrong. Its a virus I think.... he’s there sometimes but most if the time his eyes are just hollow. I tried checking in on him but I got static the first time and an electronic screech the second. I don’t know what’s wrong and I can’t move him on my own because I don’t want to do anymore damage. Just, I’m also worried about it getting transferred to one of you but, you guys are the only ones I trust with this.” “We’ll be careful Hank. Don’t worry alright?” Josh’s tone was placating and reassuring, “Markus, Simon, and I are on our way.” Hank breathed a small sigh of relief, he didn’t know how this would go, but he at least knew Connor was in good hands. “Thank you.” Josh hummed in response before he hung up. Hank tried to collect himself and made his way to the living room. Connor’s eyes were still lifeless and his LED was strobing red, yellow would come through in brief flashed but it never stayed. Sumo was sitting in front of the couch with his head resting on Connor’s stomach. The android was laid out on the couch, he had planned to go into stasis and try and fight off whatever this was, but they hadn’t been quick enough and the virus had taken hold. The synthskin was gone on the parts of him Hank could see, and the serial number branded into his cheek glared back at the older detective. It wasn’t as unsettling to see him like this anymore, what was unnerving Hank this time was the circumstances surrounding it. He reached out and squeezed Connor’s stiff hand hoping he could feel it wherever he was within the confines of his mind, “You’re gonna be alright Con.”

The 54 at the end of his serial number was an ugly reminder of the things he had come back from. The stress testing at CyberLife that still had him waking up on red some nights, Daniel and plummeting off that tower, the investigation, Amanda, the revolution, and this hopefully. The things he had been through Hank wouldn’t wish on anyone else, and if he could he would undo it for Connor too. He didn’t deserve that. After the cruelty he had been through he deserved more than this. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the knock at the front door and Sumo’s responding bark. Hank let go of Connor’s hand and answered the door. He was surprised to see Chloe at the door. She smiled kindly at him and he moved out of the way so they could come in. “He’s on the couch. He wanted to try to go into stasis before the worst of it set in.” He said dumbly. He moved through the living room to put Sumo in his bedroom so he wasn’t under foot. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust the androids’ ability to navigate around the massive dog, it was that he didn’t trust how Sumo would reaction under a combination of stress and unfamiliar company reaching for his best friend. “The drive home took too long I think...” He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned and found Simon, “This isn’t your fault Hank. we’ll get him back to Jericho and get this figured out. I promise.” Hank nodded, he knew that, but he still felt responsible. “I know, I just worry. I could have just had tech look at it and he wouldn’t be in this situation.” “Hank, look at me.” Simon’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument so he looked back toward the house keeping android instead of in the living room where Chloe was typing away at a laptop that was hooked up to Connor, “He would have looked at it anyway. This way you were here when something went wrong, because of you he isn’t going through it alone. He has a good friend in you. Remember that.”

Chloe worked on the laptop for about an hour, eventually she shook her head and closed it. That wasn’t a good sign, she stood up and smoothed out her shirt, she still dressed professionally, but tended to avoid dresses and skirts now Hank had noticed. She said something over their link and Markus and Josh moved to pick up Connor’s stiff form. She made her way to Hank and ran one of her hands through her ponytail. She took a moment to mull over her words. “I have good news, I’ve seen this before and I think we can fix it at Jericho.” She looked down, “I can’t say for sure how many of his memories he will get back though, he’s about halfway through a reset.” Hank must have made some kind of face because he took one of his hands in both of hers. “We’ll fix this Hank. Trust me.” Simon squeezed his shoulder, “You three take him, back to Jericho, I’ll stay with Hank for a while. When North gets back fill her in as well please.” Chloe nodded. She squeezed Hank’s hand one last time and then followed Josh and Markus out after she had grabbed her things.

Hank remembered letting Sumo out of the room and into the yard, but the things between that and arriving at Jericho after Simon had gotten a call was a blur. Now he was pacing the waiting room of the android equivalent of a hospital. North was watching him. Every so often she would head back to where they working on Connor, and when she would come back her face would be pinched with worry. Eventually she sighed and stepped into Hank’s path. He stopped and she put her hands on his shoulders. “For fuck’s sake sit down. You’re gonna wear a path into the floor.” She turned him and guided him over to the chairs. “They said it will be about an hour before he’s online again. They’re just making sure the virus is completely gone and didn’t bring anything else back online.” She meant Amanda, he knew that. Connor could undo everything they had fought so hard for if she got a hold of him again. North distracted him by talking about the things Jericho was working on. A lot of it was political, which was a bore to him, but a good distraction from his worry. They were also working on getting android friendly apartment complexes set up and working on getting job fairs set up for both humans and androids alike. He was glad to hear how much progress was being made. It didn’t feel like an hour had passed when Simon came down the hall into the waiting room. “He’ll be waking up soon, if you want to come back.” Simon smiled as Hank stood, “We’re gonna keep him a few days to make sure everything is how it’s supposed to be, and to make sure he rests.”

They followed Simon back. It looked like a hospital room the only difference was the lack of sterile smell. He was still hooked up to a thirium drip and there were machines monitoring his vitals. His synthskin was back and his LED was on a steady cycle of blue, he looked normal, not like he had just come out of android brain surgery. It was jarring, that after all the fear and panic, he was just back to normal. He was relieved to have Connor back. “You’re thinking very loudly Lieutenant.” Connor’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he found himself smiling when he looked into vibrant brown eyes, “The virus is gone and everything is where its supposed to be Hank.” He followed it up with that stupid wink of his, and Hank knew they were in the clear. Hey stayed for a few hours, until he needed to get back to Sumo.

Over the next few days he received pictures from Connor as well as everyone else. The first couple days were him relaxing, helping Markus paint, helping North with paper work. The rest were from Connor usually featuring him getting in some kind of trouble. Likely for not taking it easy. His favorite though was from Simon, it was of Connor and Chloe singing as Markus played the piano. North was dancing with Josh in the background. It was good to have him back.

@i-am-therefore-i-fight

(Prompt from this list)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Please tell us more about Seventh Virtue–we need more? Also what was your general thought process for writing this right now?

Hello!! Seventh Virtue is the fantastical version of the Fostered series (which I’ve been writing for many years as you probably already know)! I came up with the initial idea for this project back in the summer of 2019, but knew I’d probably never write it because at the time, I couldn’t see myself writing beyond literary fiction (and also: I know nothing about fantasy :)) in fact I think I’ve only ever read 3 fantasy books from the same series and that was years ago)!

This led to why I’m writing it right now, actually! Earlier this week, my sister and I binge watched Shadow and Bone and it reminded me of this project (which I’d called Fostered But It’s Magic haha). I couldn’t help but delve more and more into the project as the days progressed, and so I decided I’d try to draft it. I actually tried to draft this project once before as a screenplay because I thought it’d translate better to screen, but gave up FAST when I realized I am terrible at screenwriting! With this in mind, I knew I wanted to write this project, but I’m also impatient, and know I want to write more things this summer. TBH, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my vacation writing another Fostered book (I planned to write something outside of this universe but apparently it doesn’t want me to??) so yesterday at 1AM, I came up with a very... stupid idea to write 10k words in one day.

I made this decision strictly for anxiety exposure. I’m exporting the vlog where I chat about this experience so I won’t delve too much into it. TL;DR: I wrote 11k words yesterday, and finished the first chapter (almost done the second).

So what’s the book about?? Honestly, it’s pretty loose right now. This is the pitch I wrote way back in 2019, which is more or less accurate:

After being tormented by nightmares of his ex lover, which result in violent hot flashes and an inability to keep up a job, Harrison seeks a magical intervention. When the clairvoyant he hopes will cure his strange ailment turns out to be a con woman—and his old friend, Reeve—he is thrown back into the past and forced to rekindle relationships he thought he’d left behind.

The main thing that’s surprised me since drafting is how contemporary this world is?? Despite being literally fantasy, this setting is the most contemporary-aligned compared to the rest of the series. Fostered book 1-6 take place in a sort of dystopia (which gets softer and softer as the books continue), whereas Moth Work and Feeding Habits take place in older-contemporary times (2006)! This book on the other hand I could certainly see taking place in some sort of alternate 2019 (because we :) cannot include the pandemic years :)). It’s also magnificently funny?? I feel really blessed to have just decided to write this book. I know about 10% of what is going on at all times, but it’s so fun to draft!

Something I didn’t expect initially was how big a presence Foster would have in this book! I kind of :) forgot about Foster in Moth Work/Feeding Habits (so sorry he is still an icon), and while I knew he’d be Harrison’s roommate, I kind of assumed he’d be a side character?? But no, he said, I am reclaiming my “Main Cast” title and you can do nothing to stop me. For the majority of what I’ve written, Harrison and Foster are living in the past. This is because Foster can ~time travel, but is incredibly ethical and sustainable, so he refuses to actually change the past/do anything that would affect the present/future. After a hex goes wrong and results in Harrison’s mother getting into an accident and eventually disappearing, Harrison’s life is in literal shambles. Tormented by nightmares and hot flashes, he is NOT living his best life. To cope, Foster agrees to take them back to the past where he can relive the last 5 days before his mother’s accident, thinking they will only stay there for that one week. But when they’ve repeated the same week dozens of time, Foster ups the pressure on Harrison to give him the okay to head back to the present. And when these “hot flashes”/nightmares get even worse, Foster tells Harrison about a “healer” who cured his broken wrist (so he could plant his tomatoes lol), Harrison concedes and they finally head back to present day so he too can visit this woman, who is actually their old friend, Reeve.

This book is SO angsty and hilarious! I think my favourite thing about it is that I get to write Lonan and Harrison falling in love again lol, which I didn’t exactly get to experience in the conventional way (the first time around). By the time we meet Lonan (who is introduced in book 2), he and Harrison already have a pretty complex relationship. This relationship gets even more tangled in book 3, and book 5 is where we get to see the first glimpses of a romance. Somewhere in this timeline, between books 3-5, they ~fell in love, but I don’t know when! I think most of that occurred off the page, so even I don’t know. What’s so fun is now I get to glimpse into that a little bit more. Their relationship is my favourite thing and always has been, about this entire series, so I’m so stoked to finally get to dabble with it from the beginning. All I really know at the moment is that they meet because Lonan catches Harrison being a thief lol so, so much fun tension already to work with!

I’m not sure if I’ll finish this, mostly because the prospect of writing an 80k novel sort of terrifies me?? The project is almost 12k at the moment, and we really have only scratched the very surface, so we’ll see! I haven’t written genre fiction in so long and I’m adoring this! It’s also so much less strenuous than writing literary lols so perfect because I’m still a little wiped out after my semester ended!

Here’s an excerpt when Harrison meets up with Reeve for the first time:

The shop’s name is The Lark’s Lagoon. When he enters, a string of freshwater shells clatter, like bells would. She is not at the table like she was in the past, so he putters around the shop. Some of the things she sells are silly. Plastic mood rings that are clearly heat activated and more suited for a child but marketed to women in their thirties. Ping pong balls with the inscription enchanted aims. Snowglobes with a miniature witch figurine who says I’ll tell your fortune when you shake it.

“That’s a bestseller.” Her voice comes so suddenly that Harrison drops the globe. It shatters across the floor in a glittery bundle. “So you’re going to need to pay for that.”

Harrison describing Lonan lol:

Harrison hated him. He was cute, but Harrison hated him.

Harrison chilling in his timeloop where he can’t be seen:

It’s harder avoiding birds than he thinks. Every time one spots him, his body lurches, magnetized in the direction of the apartment. If it weren’t for the trees he latches onto along the way, he’d already be back at the brownstone listening to Foster lecture him on not being seen and not exploiting his magic. So he becomes more careful. Checks every direction—up down, left, right, diagonally, whatever—until he is certain no one can see him.

Some Stressed Foster dialogue lol I love him protect him at all costs:

“How many times have I told you that you cannot be seen in the timeloop? I woke up with a migraine five minutes ago and when I went to find you, realized you’d slipped out. Do you know how my brain feels when you stretch the timeloop like that? It feels like someone’s cracking it. My brain, a walnut. You, a nutcracker. Not to mention, you didn’t even leave a note. What if you were robbed? Or murdered? What if they dismembered you and I had no idea?

so that’s this project! don’t see any reason to stop writing it, so I’ll make an update on it soon! :) let me know if you have any more q’s!

[marshmallowprotection]

Cereus

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader

Description: You never knew what you wanted to do with your life from day one. It just seemed like there were too many things to pick from and all you knew was that you didn’t want to be bound by the expectations of your parents. So, you decide to head west like the rest of those that are seeking new lives and changes without knowing what to expect or your plan. You just never thought that you would find yourself ensnared in the rope of fate on your journey to find yourself.

Word Count: 2235

Cowboy Saeran x Reader

[Read On AO3]

Previous Chapter

Epilogue 

“Was now really the best time for you to pick up the guitar again?”

“What? Did ya’ want me to change the song to somethin’ more fittin’?”

“How about we travel in silence, instead?”

“That ain’t as fun, Saeran. Ya’ gotta live a little… c’mon, get that sour look off your face! Here, I wrote this one for you!”

“...Great.”

The sounds of a finely tuned guitar were all too prevalent in your eardrums these days. Saeyoung was far too content as the little wagon continued to go along the path, playing along to a song that he had been learning recently since he had so much more free time on his hands lately to explore his hobbies outside of conning and trickery.

While you didn't mind the sound, Saeran wasn't as big a fan of the humming and strumming. It led to a bit of bickering between the twins that was a surprise. The lighthearted argument wasn't unwelcomed. It was nice to see how the two of them interacted when they wanted to show that brotherly bond.

This wasn’t where you thought that you would find yourself but you weren’t going to complain about it in the slightest. 

You just leaned your head against Saeran’s shoulder as he commanded the reigns for both of their horses. He sighed at his brother’s antics and just continued as he was. It had only been a few weeks since everything happened and it was still an adjustment period.

After Saejoong was forcibly removed from power, the sheriff and everyone else that had been working with them were taken down and removed from power. They didn’t need to have a trial for them since it had been proved in front of them with the wave of a hand. They were going to be locked away where they would be unable to hurt anyone ever again.

Saeyoung and Saeran no longer had to live in fear of losing their lives because of him anymore. That was all they ever wanted. They didn’t have to hide their faces anymore. Frankly, there were people in many places that weren’t happy about their crimes as they were, but the boys had been forgiven for what they’d done by countless people.

Most of them, anyway.

It wasn’t like they had been stashing away all that money consistently. They were consistently fueling it to people in need. Anyone who needed to eat was getting paid. Anyone that was living without parents in their life was getting money. Anyone in need of something. They had been taken care of by the twins for quite a while.

The rest of the money had been for trying to control the crime scene to manipulate a load of real crooks into listening to them. Whatever they didn’t need was just put away so they could either give it back eventually or so they would have some money to get by when and if they were free. Not that the people needed to worry about it.

It changed everything in the town for the better.

But, everything changed in a matter of a few weeks. It went from zero to one-eighty. At the very least, it went from bad to better. Which was the greatest thing that anyone could hope for. The gold that was already taken from the wells couldn’t be placed back, but it could be doled out equally and fairly to all of the members of the town thanks to Jumin Han’s family.

Since his father controlled the banks, everyone’s accounts were layered with weekly reimbursements of gold and silver profits. Because of this, the town was able to grow in more ways than one, with more businesses opening up and people moving into town because everyone supported each other.

It was looking to turn around the town that was only a few months away from the brink of collapse.

Once Saejoong was gone, there needed to be a new mayor… and believe it or not, the people wanted Jihyun to take the job.

He had been such a capable man that had worked to protect everyone, and they all trusted him to do the right thing. He was elected in a landslide after everyone agreed on who they wanted to be in charge for the time being. With him and Jumin at the helm, the town was shaping up to be a great place to be and somewhere that you knew would be okay.

Since he was going to be handling matters of the town now, the bar was given to Yoosung. Who was surprised by the event entirely! But, in all honesty, he and Zen had been running the bar for quite a while on their own apart from Jaehee stepping in now and again to help with the books when she wasn’t busy with Jumin.

So, Yoosung was the one that he trusted most.

Yoosung was excited about the prospect. He had a lot of ideas for the bar, too. He wanted to be able to make it into a restaurant that anyone was welcome to. He and Zen were working together to make things work out with both of their capable hands. It would still be Jihyun’s Bar, but it would be more than anyone ever expected it to be.

While you liked your place at the bar and the job you held, you couldn’t deny that call to adventure that had your name written all over it. As things calmed down and you and the rest of the group had worked together to help the town, you had been dutifully recovering from your attack.

You weren’t on the stage to perform, but after a week of being stuck in bed, you had sat at the bar and gave a song to Zen’s performances. Singing didn’t take too much out of you, and it felt nice to be out and about where everyone was instead of worrying about how things were going. As always, this place was a good place to be.

All and all, things were going together in town.

Even better, Saeyoung had joined you at the same time, stepping in when he wasn’t working with Saeran and Jihyun to play some music along with you. He revealed his secret talent, that he was rather skilled at guitar, but he never had the chance to show it off to other people like he wanted to. He was really good!

Even if Saeran said otherwise.

Saeran had been right by Jihyun’s side the entire time, trying to help him make matters right from what happened with their father. He was taking it personally and seriously to make amends for things. You’d been surprised by that, given the history that you had heard about what the twins went through they’d met Jihyun, but the fact that Saeran was calling him “dad” was telling enough.

Saeran wasn’t trying to become the next mayor, though.

That was the last thing he wanted.

This was just the loose end that had to be tied up for him. Saeran had told you that he wanted to be able to leave the desert for a while, maybe not forever because he knew how much this place meant to you now, but he did want to see the world first.

You knew that feeling.

You knew what it felt like to want an adventure.

Saeran was your adventure now, and anywhere that he wanted to go, you wanted to be. That’s what led to this situation that you were now in. So, when he proposed the idea to you one day if you would be a willing party to go on a trip with him. Of course, Saeyoung was going to be tagging along, but it was a given. He still wanted you to come with him.

Of course, you said yes.

It wasn’t a “goodbye” to the western town that you had come to, but a simple “see you soon.”

Which is how you wound up where you were now, in a little wagon pulled by Begona and Big Dipper, headed out from town and deep along the trails to take you to wherever you wanted to go. Saeran was kind of interested in seeing the ocean since he’d never been able to see that before, well, there were a lot of things that he hadn’t seen before, but…

It was the first thing that came to mind when you asked, “Well, where do you wanna go?”

“I reckon it’d be nice to see the coast?”

“Good choice, Saeranie!”

Saeyoung seemed jazzed about the idea, himself. He had traveled out with Jihyun and seen the coast before, and had described it to his twin with a mystified look in his eyes. It had left a mark on him that Saeran wanted to see. Hilarious, you knew, but it was kind of sweet to see them getting along and sharing these things.

You were happy here with Saeran.

He snorted when you tucked yourself closer to his side, but ignored the urge to make a snide comment to torment you. You’d grown used to him teasing you and pulling your hair now and again. He might have been Saeran now, but he was still your tormentor by all accounts. Which was exactly what you’d wanted, anyway.

“How far do you think we have left?” you asked him, watching as the landscape changed by the minute from the clay and soil, into the greens that you knew very well. “Do you reckon it’s more than a day or two at this rate?”

“I reckon so,” he responded. You’d pay for stealing some of his quirky vocabulary to tease him. But, you liked that little accent of his whether he wanted to agree with that or not. “I ain’t never traveled this far by myself before, so I’m just guessing from what the maps said.”

“It took a while even by train,” you admitted.

“‘Course, we ain’t in no hurry, little Cereus. We’ll get there when we get there… don’t tell me that yer’ gonna start askin’ me that every five minutes. We already got one idiot n’ this car, we don’t need two of ‘em.”

The two of you chuckled.

That seemed to bring Saeyoung’s attention to the scene. He had stopped playing the time being as he leaned forward between the two of you, ignoring the way the wagon bounced against the terrain and could’ve knocked him over. The way that things were changing had caught his eye. Had he traveled in this area before? “I’ll pretend I ain’t hear that. But, hey, do y’all remember when I told ya’ that I met someone when I was gone with Jihyun?”

“...That fake partner ya’ mentioned?” Saeran quipped. You knew what he thought about that person that Saeyoung had brought up now and again. You couldn’t doubt him. Because they all doubted Zen about you! So, who was to say that he was hiding information about somebody just to make some kind of joke?

“They’re not fake!” Saeyoung retorted. He huffed and looked at you for some moral support. “Cereus, ya’ believe me, right? I’m only bringin’ this up because I was wonderin’ if you two would be interested in meetin’ ‘em? After all, they’ve been waitin’ for me to come back n’ see ‘em since I left a few months ago.”

That made you curious.

You raised a brow, “Oh?”

“Absolutely.”

Saeran sighed. He looked back at his twin and shook his head, incredulous. It was like he couldn’t believe that Saeyoung wanted to take a little detour. He wasn’t going to hear the end of it if he didn’t do something about this. “Alright, alright. Ya’ know what? I reckon that I want you to prove that this person is real, then. I’ve heard this spiel too many damn times. Ya’ wanna prove it? Let’s see ‘em, then. Tell me where we’re headed, then.”

“Aw, Saeran, I knew you cared about me!”

“Mainly, I just wanna see if yer’ a liar or not.”

“I’ll admit I’m a little curious, Saeyoung. I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt on this one. Be nice, Saeran. Who knows, it might lead us to another adventure!”

“The last thing I want right now  is another dangerous adventure.”

“That settles it, then. To the sea, we go!”

[AUTHOR’S NOTE:] 

Heya Howdy Doodle Doo, don’t let the door close on ya’ because this ain’t over yet.

That’s right. 

This isn’t the end of Cowboy Saeran. Join us soon in the sequel which is going to be a Seven x Reader story. This will be my first long-form Seven x Reader story, and I’m glad to be writing it. I sincerely am going to have to thank countless people for supporting this story and supporting me. I’ve made a lot of new friends that I hope to keep forever thanks to this story. 

My heart is filled with so much love for so many of you fans. 

I’ve received fan art, cosplay, and all kinds of gifts for this story of mine and it means a lot to me that there are people that enjoy something I’ve made so much that they want to play around in my take on the Mystic Messenger characters. So, this isn’t goodbye to you, my loyal cowboy fans.

This is a See You Soon.