#maybe i should have tried to draw someone else but. but. but agent 100..................................

[rickety-goose]

updated agent 100 portrait goodbye --- you wanna meet this man and other tasty tasty characters? you wanna go on a thrilling spy adventure and sneak around and maybe blow up some stuff and more? play 180 files by @scribble-games !!! on sale on steam atm

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

*

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

[homieswithhades]

why steve rogers returning to the past was wrong

disclaimer: im clearly a stucky enthusiast, but please, do not be thrown off by that. i admit, there may be undertones of bias because of that in the following, but i did my best with trying to lay out the facts and draw logical conclusions, so do please give me a chance. also, i may have accidentaly omitted some moments and some quotes may not be 100% word for word, as my memory lowkey sucks. ALSO this is NOT a peggy hate post!! i think shes a dope and underrated character and quite frankly she was done dirty. but i also definitely h8 the trope of badass woman falls for the hero.

first and foremost, every sane person knows endgame was complete and utter bullshit when dealing with steves character, so this post will be more for you to maybe show (and hopefully convince) some stubborn friend or family member. nice, concise (not) and including proof from the movies (+a few tweets and stucky undertones, if u dont fw that i respect it but bucky is an integral part to steves character regardless of how u interpret their relationship) here is why steves character development was thrown away at the end of endgame.

let us begin at looking at the cap trilogy.

in ca:tfa it should be noted that steve had no one to return to in the 40s, except bucky. i believe steves relationship with peggy was no where near as developed as it should have been to elicit him returning exclusively for her. as we are aware, steves driving force has absolutely always been bucky. bucky was there for steve after his parents died, when he was sick, and always protected him from whatever trouble he got himself into. "until the end of the line" right? steves relationship with peggy was forced and short lived, literally, we're talking a matter of months here. i need to keep emphasising the important disparity between bucky and peggy, as it is absolutely key in this whole argument. steve dropped everything and went against every order just to even attempt to save bucky. even the slightest chance of him surviving being captured was enough for steve to break into a hydra camp and free the 107th division. steve even had the chance to capture zola, one of the main villains and masterminds of the war, but again, steve prioritised bucky. when theyre trying to escape the exploding hydra camp, the exchange between steve and bucky is critical. steve says "go! get out of here!" as all he wanted was bucky escaping safely. he put bucky's life over his own (this wasnt the first time he did this, nor the last) but bucky rooted himself to the spot, and yelled back "no, not without you!". they both escaped safely as we know, and then steve gathers the howling commandos to take down the red skull. bucky then falls off the train, nd steve blames himself for his death, even visibly crying over it twice. steves morals went from "i dont wanna kill anyone. i dont like bullies, i dont care where theyre from" before buckys death, to "i wont stop until all of hydra are dead or captured" after. stuff happens and steve defeats the red skull and is now in control of the flying ship with the bombs. he connects the comms with peggy and she tries to convince him theres another way to disarm the ship. steve was so dedicated at that point he didnt even want to hear it. he didnt even attempt to do anything to ensure his survival. this alone proves, peggy was not important enough to him to return to.

next is ca:tws. The stevebucky movie. in the museum, peggy confirms that steve saved the man from the 107th division who eventually became her husband (steve was never in the 107th, just to clarify) i believe her husbands name was daniel sousa (as revealed in the marvels agents of shield show) steve then finds out peggy is alive and talks to her. she, in short, tells him she's lived her life, and it was his turn to live his in the time hes in. the "my best girl" line was unnecessary and out of place; again, steve barely knew her. again, shit goes down, and steve finds out the winter soldier is bucky and immediately drops everything, and becomes dead set on saving him. not killing, not imprisoning, but saving him. no matter the cost. "he saw me, and he didnt even know me" "hes not the kind you save, hes the kind you stop. he won't recognise you" "he will." god, steve KNEW bucky would recognise him. regardless of the brainwashing, steve managed to break through the barrier hydra fought so hard to drill into buckys mind. nothing ever broke him out of that state exept for steve. "im not gonna fight you, youre my friend." "youre my mission" "then finish it. cos im with you till the end of the line." [[good fucking lord let me break out of my essay-esque semi professional format here and just say how fucking heartbreaking those lines are. oh my god. read them, over and over until it hits you.]] steve shows us again, that he is willing to not only die for bucky, but literally die by his hand. he would let bucky kill him. he'd dropped his shield. he didnt fight back. steve always, always, ALWAYS got up and fought back. always. exept that time. the time bucky could have killed him. that scene is the essence of "im with you till the end of the line" because then, it was true. it was true because steve was okay with dying at buckys mercy. theres a difference between sacrificing yourself for the greater good (steve going into the ice), willing to die for someone (steve risking his life multiple times in attempts to save bucky) and finally, being willing to let someone kill you, because you love and trust them so much (hellicarier scene). the difference between peggy and bucky's relationship to steve is that steve may be willing to die for either, but only willing to be killed by one. not to mention, bucky pulled steve from the river. he recognised him. steve broke through 70 years of brainwashing with such impact it literally drove bucky away from hydra out of his own free will.

in between ca:tws and ca:cw its confirmed (im p sure sam says it) that him and steve looked for bucky for two. years. even off screen, bucky was steves priority.

im going to squeeze in 2 points from from age of ultron here, for chronology's sake:

steves worst nightmare, as portayed in the movie, is LITERALLY going back to the 40s and being stuck there (with peggy too??lmfao) and also the quote "family, stability, the man who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. i think another one came out." objectively confirms that steve isn't the man he used to be, and doesnt want to return to the past. aou may have sucked, but that doesn't mean the character development should be thrown away.

ca:cw. hoo boy. steve went against 117 countries and half of his closest friends and colleagues because he believed bucky was innocent of the bombing of the un conference. god, steve quite literally, did everything to defend and protect bucky. though i shall acknowledge that steve did attend peggy's funeral, however, there was no real connotations there other than the fact he was mourning her death (understabdibly so). steve then proceeds to protect bucky for 2 hours 27 mins and 41 seconds to the point where they escape together to siberia after the airport fight. "i dont know if im worth all this steve" "what you did all those years... it wasnt you. you didnt have a choice." "i know. but i did it" again, absolutely heartbreaking quotes if you read it a couple of times and truly understand the meaning of them. steve somewhat indirectly tells bucky yes, yes he is worth all of this. otherwise, he wouldn't be doing it. a quote to support that would be "for the longest time, i always did what i thought was right." (disclaimer this is not a direct quote i deadass couldnt find it to save my life, i belive steve said it at some point during civil war or tws, but the point is, bucky is the only thing that could have shaken steves morals so intensely.) and finally, the most important part of cw, the fight at the end with tony. bucky and steve constantly protected each other. steve kept fighting because he was fighting for bucky. to keep him safe from tony and the world. he got up, time and time again. "i can do this all day." the fact that he said that to tony, some people consider them the closest of friends, proves again, a million times over, bucky is more important to steve than literally anything else, INCLUDING his shield. his mantle. he dropped it and left it like it was nothing, because his priority was bucky. as always.

theres not much to discuss for infinity war other than their hug whicg was honestly just adorable.

mmmmm endgame. i will not go into how much i hate that movie because it would be a rant quintuple the length of this one. in the support group, steve dead ass fucking says "you gotta move on. you gotta move on" and that sentiment was literally forgotten at the end. my main point for endgame is this. people tend to tell me, the reason steve abandoned bucky and went back to be with peggy is because he knew that he was finally safe. :/. if you had half a braincell youd know that's not true. the steve we know, never would have left bucky for good, ESPECIALLY after the "dont do anything stupid until i get back" exchange [[god i want to beat the shit out of the r*ssos]] mostly because, bucky had fucking no one in the time he was living in!!! no family, no friends and most heartbreakingly, no one he could trust. (yes sam was there but were just seeing their friendship develop now in tfatws, all that wasnt there in endgame) and secondly, what made steve think bucky was entirely safe??? half of the worlds population just suddenly reappeared, which as we see now, there were massive consequences for that. i simply believe steve is not that stupid. steve going back was disrespectful not only to his character, but to bucky AND peggy. most importantly, the steve we've been watching since 2011 would NEVER abandon bucky, no matter how safe he thought he was (he visited him frequently in wakanda, the safest place on the planet arguably ffs) especially for such a dumbass and quite frankly, nonsensical reason as going back to be with peggy, who clearly stated to him she moved on, and so should he (which he did. idk endgame writers prolly didnt watch the previous movies :/) its not even debatable. bucky is more important to steve than peggy. even in terms of screentime.

now allow some tweets to speak for me, this one being the absolute most important one:

ladies and gentlefolk, all of the stuff ive said can be summarised in that last line. "it would be contrary to who he is."

heres some more:

and now finally, id like to briefly mention steve and tfatws, so beware of spoilers (writing this as of ep 4 coming out; praying it doesn't age badly)

bucky mentions steve, unprompted, fucking constantly. he clearly isnt over steve leaving, and im hoping that gets acknowledged and talked out in the show.

in conclusion, tl:dr, steve shouldn't have returned to the past and stayed there, it is contrary to who he is, as shown to us through his trilogy and other appearances in the mcu. not to mention the timeline bullshit in endgame makes zero sense in the first place.

[reidecorating]

the bau team and their star signs based on science

hotch: clearly an aries. this is not up for debate and i don't take criticism. natural born and excellent leader? maybe. but bossy boots because he is just a bossy boss man who probably sleeps in a suit or those pyjamas that have suit graphics on them? most definitely. when he speaks, his voice sounds like it’s coming out in all lower case, when he yells, it’s all caps. angery. down to throw hands at anything in his immediate line of vision probably. will exterminate you like a roach if you mess with someone he cares about. don't break the rules or my boss will kill me 😡 to you're breaking the rules under MY supervision, that way my boss will kill US 🥰. probably microwaves food a lot. type of dad to say no to getting a dog, then two months later get matching christmas costumes with said dog. never stops working because he is an absolute UNIT built like the circuit of one of those infinity pools in bali. could use another sabbatical.

rossi: i saw his birth certificate and the rumours are true, he’s a november sagittarius. two wives away from being a modern day king henry the eighth. it’s rossi’s world and we’re all just living in it. he is a prophet. his third eye has been opened and he ascended to the seventh dimension at the age of 24. when he takes leave, the only way to contact him is through a ouija board in latin or maybe greek depending on the position of the sun. he will only die when he chooses to die but will dissolve at the words ‘what are we?’. the major arteries in his body are just long pieces of macaroni. definitely has hooked up with one person from every state the jet has landed in. no filter between his brain and mouth, will destroy your self confidence intentionally. uses abbreviations when texting. liberal - because of the experimenting back in college. probably friends with your mum on facebook.

prentiss: imagine her being anything but an air sign. you can't because she's clearly an aquarius?? work comes first (first equal with her girlfriend). if you tell her to do something she simply won't do it, especially if it was something she was just about to do. she once came home from a run with her mother in the summer and her mother politely suggested that she should drink some water. emily, an anarchist, did not drink water and was hospitalised for heatstroke in due course of proving her point of nonconformity. has been to jail. sucks on candy canes and makes them pointy because christmas is one of her least favourite days. on probation. no, i really like him *deletes his number*. maybe moves to iceland to become a sheep herder to avoid having to ever see anyone she has romantically affiliated with ever again. actually quite the jester, joke levels exceed 4000, but can make you laugh and cry in the span of approximately the length of a short youtube ad. the antichrist.

morgan: has at some point caused someone to question their sexuality. am i really a straight man? do i really only like women? - direct quotes from anyone who has seen him. if that doesn't scream libra i don't know what does. i’m trying to refrain from using the words ‘hot’, ‘sex god’, ‘rail me’. the kinda guy who will hold open a door for you, but also have no problem kicking one down for you. has never ditched class before. momma’s boy. tries to make his pecs move in the mirror. he KNOWS he’s hot okay??? but THEN its not just that because people are like ‘oh he's attractive’ but then they find out he’s RESPECTFUL, and INTELLIGENT and COMPASSIONATE and then that awkward moment when you just DIE because he is not flawed??? it’s like he’s a lucid dream??? probably secretly is really good at baking some obscure european good. uses colognes that have really manly man sounding names for instance, ‘Man Musk’, ‘Mystical Muscles’, ‘Beards and Buttercream’.

garcia: the epitome of a female pisces. a baddie™. definitely owns a pair of those really skinny sunglasses that influencers wear and looks like god herself while in them. spirals from being the momma bear to the wine-aunt. she will care about you so hard but if that's not reciprocated, will hack into your my eyes only and fax those pictures to every machine she can connect to. accidentally has flirted her way into at least 19 relationships. really good at writing fan fiction??? like - seriously good. knows 4 different synonyms for the word “member” iykyk. researches things the people she loves most enjoy, so when she talks to them she can have more detailed conversations. catches feelings for people who are definitely not good for her. sometimes just takes off her glasses because she's tired of, well... seeing. hand makes cute lil earrings for her friends. a master at fireboy and watergirl and will never play with anyone else because ‘another player just slows you down, i can do it myself in half the time’. THAT FRIEND WHO WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO TIE YOUR LACES.

jj: virgo. she was definitely that girl who had notes with pretty titles and colour coded highlighters in school. also did extracurriculars in the weekends so she’d have to be picked up from sleepovers early to go to soccer games. when she takes the time to learn something she learns it well and perfects any craft handed to her because anything less than 100% is failure in her eyes. gets annoyed when other people cry for too long probably. will judge you. so much. silently. especially if you cry. don't make her mad because she has caused civil unrest in 13 continents. live, laugh, love signs in her kitchen. security footage surfaced in 2007 of her roundhouse kicking a middle aged man, in the junk food aisle of a trader joe’s, after he took the last re-stocked bag of cheetos. has a ‘mom first, agent second’ mug that garcia got her. likes family walks which will most likely be planned out meticulously, involving a detailed itinerary of the day i.e. Henry’s toilet break, 10AM

reid: he despises star signs and anyone who gives them any thought because “where is the SCIENCE?” this bitch is a scorpio. definitely only knows his sun sign. so intense! have you seen the way he looks at things?? the way he stares??? the way he analyses dead bodies??? the way he loves??? ridiculously put together to everyone around him but emotionally life is soup and he is fork. kinky. breaks off bananas little by little with his hands before eating each piece individually because eating them normally is too sensual and he’s paranoid morgan might see him doing it and take a picture. wants the kind of love he reads about. has a superiority complex about having a superiority complex. keeps a straight face while saying literally anything so you cannot tell if he’s being serious or not like one day he’ll just be like “yeah i killed a man with an axe once to enable myself to more easily empathise with future unsubs who potentially work as lumberjacks or have a history of logging. it’s called method axing,” and then leave the room to draw circles on maps or something. believes that parallel parking should work, in theory, but never seems to work for him in practice.

[sunflowerdigs]

So, I did a little sarcastic-y review from the salt mines for RNM 3x09. Warnings for excessive sodium content, Maribel mourning, a desire to recycle cardboard, and, of course, Malex opinions. Without further ado:

- Every time Michael smiles I forget for like 5 whole seconds how much I hate that Malex keeps me shackled to this show. Too cute that he brought Alex lunch (and probably hoped he could sneak a glimpse of him) and they're going on their first date (omg omg omg).❤❤❤❤❤

- Kyle should yell at people more. Starting with his garbage friends who left him in a barn without proper triage or jello cups while he was in a coma (why didn't they just keep him at DS if he's having appointments there anyway? Nevermind... ). Alas, he's starting his understandable rage tour with Uncle Edgelord, who, naturally, makes a dramatic statement and tries to leave. I am so glad Kyle called him on that.

- Delmanes would be cute if Greg didn't have the personality of cardboard. They've created a character who is actually only here to remind us of how special and amazing Maria is. Turns out that's not super interesting. And it's so painfully obvious that it's a pair-your-spares situation. I really wish they'd just give her Kyle, he has the patience of a saint. Anyway, Isobel's pigtails are cute af (rip my Isobel/Maria/Kyle heart - I would have taken Isobel interrupting Delmanes and Heather's post with pigtails today as signs if not for genetics).

- Anatsa and Isobel's development seems to have taken place completely off-screen, like everything else gay on this show, so I'm guessing it's gonna stick. Honestly...I guess this is controversial but Isobel and Maria have really good chemistry and a history. I know their bond is supposed to read "sibling" but it doesn't for me. And rather than waste time watching them flirt with these one-note (ah, Greg chimes in right on time with a convenient line any rando could have delivered) LIs, I'd much rather see them get closer. The whole related thing has thrown a wrench into it for me. That said, it's nice to watch a woman be encouraged to go after another woman. 🎉

- Alex the sci-fi/fantasy nerd figuring out immediately that the hallucination is his own subconscious is 100% legit. Much like Kyle not letting his uncle pull a classic tall-dark-and-broody exit, I appreciate Alex's 4th-wall break moment.

- Not Max and Liz proving that discussions about s2 drama can occur on Roswell New Mexico?! What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Isobel is actually acting a lot like Sherlock Holmes when he's on a case, from the wardrobe to the focus, and it's hot. Also, totally believable that Isobel would be able to pull up that pod from under the ice because we know she's been training even if it didn't happen onscreen. Because she told us. Just a suggestion.

- I love the idea of Jim Valenti as a double-agent, but I don't see how Eduardo thought he could keep Kyle safe by never knowing him. It feels like there's a lot more here Eduardo isn't saying.

- It wasn't a sister-fight that Maria and Isobel had, but whatever (no one got physically shoved or brought up a horrifying memory from 100000 years ago to shove in someone's face in public - doesn't count).

- Also, why would you waste a glass by throwing it into the fireplace? Wouldn't it just explode back in your face? Man, the show is trying so hard with Maria and Greg, I want to give them some kind of romance-novel award for effort (but not success).

- Not Liz and Max showing us that it's possible to move forward by discussing your past mistakes like adults instead of pretending they didn't happen!? What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Draw a line on the bottle? No way, Valenti, he obviously wants you to chuck that whole thing straight into the fire in a fit of passion to prove that his words had an emotional impact.

- Also, Kyle wins the prize for this episode for that speech to Uncle Edgelord. Everyone go home. When do I get a Kyle and Alex spin-off where they travel the world, defying sci-fi tropes and seducing beautiful men and women?

- Not Liz and Max talking loudly about aliens while breaking and entering! This one is actually very believable, I take it back.

- It was idiotic of Liz to trust Heath. And Echo keep having this same fight because MAX IS RIGHT BUT THE SHOW WON'T LET HIM BE. Which is so obnoxious. I would forgive Liz for almost any sin (like, idk, getting a better romantic storyline because she's straight) because she's gorgeous and smart and tough and I wanna go live with her and her mad scientist energy on a deserted island somewhere. But she's being real dumb rn.

- I love the t-shirt and if Vlambase doesn't sell one I will. But he couldn't have held up a radio and blasted some Barry White? I feel like that would have cleared everyone but Alex put of the building real fast. Also, what is time on Roswell NM? Was Alex just setting the alarm every so often for kicks? Does Eduardo really not check in on staff who are working with dangerous technology for days on end? Also, why is this entire plot happening over a single goddamn episode instead of two or more so that we can really feel Alex wasting away under the machine's influence? The reason this twist is at all surprising is also the entire plot's undoing - Alex's demeanor wasn't exactly one of a man obsessed (or an addict, tbh) in his last scene.

- Anyway, back to Rizzoli and Isles. I definitely am always super excited to hear the details of my sister's sex life. All the time. That is totally a sister thing except where it's really not. Do any of these writers actually have a sister? I feel like they must because the Michael/Max/Isobel sibling chemistry is always bang on but Maribel is just...flirty lady city. Oh, and look, the beard just showed up with coffee to cockblock - it really is R&I!

- Back to Alex's plot line, which, much like Isobel's coffee, is Express To-Go. He's become haggard and worn in the time it's taken Michael's mom to find a cute sweater in the void. Seriously, we wasted like 3 whole episodes where Alex was presumably sitting in DS twiddling his thumbs and now he's being worn down by the machine in a single episode? Why didn't this plot start back in episode 3 or 4? Like...look, I don't come on here to be an asshole. But I just really hope they're taking note of what worked this season and what didn't because HOLY PACING FIASCO BATMAN. Just because you're giving us Malex doesn't mean everything else can just be hot garbage (not the acting, Taylor's doing his best to sell this). Also, when did Alex put his leg back on? I have so many questions but they aren't the good kind, so Michael better ride in soon and save this mess.

- Regarding what Nora is saying, it's fine, it makes sense but the zero build up makes it completely ineffective. Alex is afraid he doesn't love enough - it would have been nice to see that over several episodes instead of just being told in a burst of sudden exposition but, you know. Nice straight things we can't have, I guess.

- If Michael and Alex want their relationship to "purr" they could, idk, talk through their past misunderstandings like people in relationships do. Or the show could keep throwing exposition bombs at them, idek.

- Are those empty toilet paper rolls inside the machine? I knew the CW was budget but come on...

- And we finally get the Heath connection and it's to our brand new trope-y character, Wise Old Black Man Dallas. It's surprising but only because the 4th alien didn't exist before this episode. So, good job.

Overall, not the worst episode of RNM ever. I only wondered why I watch this show maybe 3 times this episode. And Michael's enthusiasm for Alex was adorable.

[winters-void]

100

a/n: this is based off of episode 9 of season 5 “100″ of criminal minds. -Requests are open.

warning: death, blood, violence, angst, George foyet, murder

relationship: dad! Hotchner x daughter! reader, Spencer Reid x reader (light)

____

Y/n felt her heart in her chest. She couldn't hear, over her heartbeat and her vision was blurred due to the immense amount of tears in her eyes. She felt Spencer's hand on her shoulder and that was all it took to break down. She fell to her knee's being caught along the way by Spencer and began to bawl into his shoulder. His cane fell to the side as he held her close as she broke down into his body.

— previously —

Y/n was exhausted. She graciously took a cup of coffee from Spencer as they made their way up to the bullpen. Finally, there had been a break in the Foyet case. She was so tired of this devil. It seemed like he was everywhere she looked. Even if he wasn't there physically.

She could feel him in her dreams, plaguing her with nightmares. Every time she looked at the family photo on her desk, and a picture of her and Jack from her little brother's 3rd birthday she was reminded of the torment he had caused her family. From stabbing her father and leaving him at the hospital, and now threatening Jack and her mother. She was so tired of it.

They were working on a geographical profile now, focusing on the two different addresses from the letters he had sent. Garcia and Kevin where cross referencing a list of Foyet's medications, trying to find something that he couldn't get over the counter or on the streets.

"Okay so what are we going to do about the two cities?" J.J. asked. "Usually we need 3 different points to get an accurate geographic profile."

"That's all we got right now." Derek speaks from beside her.

"Gaithersburg, Rockville, D.C., Alexandria, Bowie, Annapolis." Prentiss begins listing off nearby cities.

"Where the hell are you Foyet?"

Wasn't that the question of the hour? Of the year actually. All Y/n wanted was to have her family under one roof again. Even if her parents were divorced, she just wanted the ability to call her mom after a long case and play with her little brother. Instead, they were placed into protective custody. She knew they were safe, at least she hoped they were.

The team wasn't told where they were going whatsoever, it was safer that way. No way of knowing where your mom and brother were, and not knowing how to contact them. There was a small amount of people who knew where they were located.

"Okay, me and the boy found a thyroid medication that has no substitute over the counter. You gotta get it from a pharmacist, but a lot of people are on it." Garcia said bursting into the bullpen with a laptop in her hand.

"Find the midpoint between the 2 cities." Rossi told her. "And isolate names in a 25-mile radius."

"153 names." Garcia told him.

"He's smart enough to use a different name." Y/n spoke up. "This guy lived off of the grid for years."

"What kind of names should we be looking for." Derek asks.

"He could've easily stolen someones identity." Prentiss speaks up pointing toward Derek, reminding Y/n of the night her father got stabbed and Foyet checked him into the hospital using Derek's credentials.

"No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology." her dad speaks up, flipping through a file. "He'd use a name connected with the case."

"A victim maybe, a cop." Rossi adds.

"Okay, let's check the Foyet files for a list of names, and... nothing." Garcia says shaking her head.

"Wait a minute guys." Her boyfriend speaks up. "Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses he wrote on the bus that led us back to him."

Spencer stands up, walking to the bored and writing "George Foyet" on it. "Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."

"Like an anagram or something." Prentiss says catching on.

Spencer begins crossing letters out and drawing arrows. Y/n wonders what's going on in his mind. He's always been brilliant and she's not sure she'll understand how he does it all.

"You see something Spence?" She asks him.

"Not yet."

"Reid, he named himself the reaper." Her dad tells him and suddenly 'the reaper' appears on the board as well and Spencer repeats his process of crossing out letters and making arrows.

All of a sudden he turns around, with a name. "Peter Rhea." He speaks.

"There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington." Garcia says looking down at her laptop.

"We found him." Rossi says.

___

The team begins to suit up. Y/n pulling on her vest as calm as possible. Her hands are shaking and everyone notices. This isn't the normal Y/n whatsoever. She just wants her life to go back to normal. With a case hitting this close to home, she can't help but feel like her nerves are racking up against her.

"Hey." Spencer says placing a hand on her waist gently. The rest of the team looks away giving them a moment. "You're okay. We're going to get him."

"Are we?" She asks, voice cracking.

___

Y/n, Spencer, J.J. Derek and Rossi were in an empty building across the street from Foyet's apartment. They had a swat team behind them and Y/n was sitting next to Rossi, her back to Spencer who was leaning on his cane.

"SWAT's getting antsy." Jennifer told Morgan. She didn't really listen to what else they had to say. She just focused on the building ahead of them.

Less than 15 minutes later, the decision to move was made. Derek sent in someone with a camera to look under the door of Foyet's apartment.

"What's that on the floor?" Her dad asked from beside her.

"That's his mail." Derek said and the decision to move out was made. They ran across the street, guns drawn, followed by the SWAT team and undercover units.

They busted into the apartment quickly, discovering Foyet wasn't there.

"He's not coming back here, he left an untouched meal." Her father declared.

"You drop your mail like this when you're startled, when you need to get out of dodge quick." Rossi tells him.

"Something tipped him off, he knew we were coming."

"Suitcases are open there's some clothes missing, there's a safe with a stash of guns in it." Derek says coming back into the kitchen with J.J.

"He didn't even bother to lock them up again." J.J. adds.

"If he's in a hurry, he'll make a mistake." Rossi says.

"Yeah but when Foyet gets cornered he starts killing." Hotch says leaving the room.

"We're not gonna let that happen."

"We need Garcia to get on this." Y/n whisper watching Foyet's screen. It's continuously deleting files from its system. As Garcia reworks the files, you notice something in a picture. "Wait, stop, stop! Is that-"

"The US Marshall assigned to my family." Her dad says looking right at her. He leaves a message on Kassmeyers cell before locking eyes with Y/n. "Let's go."

____

The black SUV's halt to a stop outside of the U.S. Marshals house. When walking inside, they find Kassmeyer on the ground, slowly dying. Rossi gets an ambulance as your father tries to communicate with him.

Y/n could hear the sirens of the ambulance now as medics came in.  "Gunshot wounds to each leg he's missing several fingers and he's badly beaten." Spencer said from beside her.

"Clear out of the way" the medics ordered her father before getting to work. As they got into the ambulance Hotch followed him into the vehicle leaving Y/n with the rest of the team breathing heavily. She felt Spencer grab a shaking hand and squeeze it tight.

Later on the team received a phone call from Hotchner, telling them that Foyet called Y/n's mother from Sam's phone.

"We'll get Garcia to trace it. J.J." Morgan said nodding at J.J. to start working on that.

"He told her she was compromised and I was dead, and that Y/n was in critical condition." Her dad told them.

"Well have you called her?" Prentiss ask him.

"No. He said to throw her phone away and to buy a disposable." Y/n heard her dad say. She wanted to vomit. There was too much happening at once. She wanted to be calm and collected but there was too much on the line. This case was targeting her home, her family.

"Hotch we're gonna come get you right now." Morgan told him.

"No, Anderson's bringing me a car."

"You want us to meet you back at the office?"

"I'm hoping that she's just going to call me, at least, to check. Maybe even Y/n."  

"Foyet posed as a Marshal, called from a number that she recognized." Derek told him.

"And then he did what gets him off. He scared her." Rossi added.

"No, He paralyzed her. He overwhelmed her." Prentiss told the team.

"And now, she trusts him. Where do you think he would take her?" Spencer asked him.

"Witness protection had her living in New Jersey." Prentiss told Spencer.

"He has a head start. He could be there now."

"Garcia's got a trace." J.J. told the team a form of somewhat good news.

"He's bouncing between a few towers." Garcia spoke being added to the call.

"Where?" Y/n's dad asked panicked.

"Fairfax County." Garcia told him.

"He's still local?" Y/n asked confused. "He wants to be close."

"Send the coordinates to my phone." Hotch told her.

Hotchner hung up from the phone call, and the team watched as he called another number.

"Wait that phone's on?" Prentiss asked.

"Hotch is calling Foyet."

"Garcia get us connected to that call." Y/n spoke grabbing the phone.

"Agent Hotchner." Y/n heard Foyet's voice on the phone and her blood ran cold.

"If you touch her.." She heard her father tell him.

"Be gentle, like I was with you?" Foyet asks and Y/n is reminded of walking into her fathers empty apartment find his blood on the floor. "What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something. Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated. You're more predictable than you think." Her father spoke lowly.

"Am I?" Foyet asked.

"You didn't know where Haley was so you made her come to you."

"You make me sound lazy."

"Just another way for you to show control." Hotch told him. "Your mother tried to protect you from your father but she wasn't strong enough and you hated her for that didn't you? You decided that all women were weak."

"Those are your words, not mine."

"What were you 9 when you killed them?"

"It was a car accident."

"That you couldn't take credit for. That had to be hard for you. But poor George got another chance, the little orphan was saved. By the wealthy, sterile Eastside couple, the Foyets and the story should've ended there." Hotchner spoke, analyzing the Reaper.

"I don't believe in fairy tales, do you?" Foyet asked him.

"That's the thing, George. This isn't a fairy tale." Hotch told him. "You don't have to write this story, you don't have to do any of this. I know you're exhausted, always looking over your shoulder." Her father was pleading with the man now. "Always wondering when the other shoe is gonna drop. Haven't you gotten what you wanted? You've set yourself apart from anybody we've ever dealt with. You're not just a famous serial killer, you're the reaper. We're gonna study you and your methods for years and years."

Foyet took a moment to respond. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair. She's lost some weight, must be all the stress you've caused her. Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"

Another phone rang in the background. Y/n's eyes began to swell with tears. This sick bastard was watching her family. He was playing them like a fiddle.

"That's your wife. Hold please." She listened closely as Foyet answered the other phone. "Mrs. Hotchner."

"I'm here." Y/n heard her mothers voice and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears. It was the first time she'd heard it in months. Never in a million years did she think this would be the circumstance.

"Open the gate and I'll drive in." Foyet told her, and not knowing any better her mother agreed. "Aaron? I really got to go."

Her mind wasn't there while the team was talking. She was just trying to think of where they could be. It clicked once Reid recited Foyet's end of the conversation.

"The gate. The fucking gate. He's going to my house." She blurted. "The one I grew up in."

Immediately she grabbed a pair of keys to one of the SUV's and began heading out the door.

"No, give me the key's you're in no condition to drive." Derek said. "I'll call Hotch."

"Foyet's going to your house Hotch." Derek told him.

"I know." Her father spoke.

"We're sending a full tactical unit. We're on our way."

With that the phone was hung up and Garcia's voice came through to the line they were all connected with. "Foyet's calling Hotch."

"Garcia can you get us on?" Derek asked her.

"Foyet."

"Aaron?" Her mothers shocked voice said. "You're okay? What about Y/n?"

"I'm fine." Hotch said and y/n could tell her father was swallowing his tears. Attempting to make it seem like he was okay. "Y/n's fine as well. She's with the team."

"But.. he said that-" Haley cut herself off. "Oh Aaron."

"He can hear us right?"

"Yes. I am so sorry." her mother apologized and Y/n bit her lip. She felt Spencer place a hand on her back.

"Haley, show him no weakness." Her father told him. "No fear."

"I know, Same told me about him. Is he uh-"

"No Sam is fine." Hotch lied. Sam was indeed very not fine.

"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron." Foyet spoke up. The reality of this situation becoming a lot clearer to Y/n ever second that passed. "Is that why your marriage broke up? Because you're a liar?"

"Don't listen to him Haley."

"I have Sam's service phone right here. They sent out a mass text about his death. You can take a look if you want."

"He's trying to scare you." Her father told her. "Did you even tell her what this was about? About the deal?"

"He's just trying to make you angry."

"Well she should be, she's gonna d-i-e." Foyet spoke up, taunting the family. "Your kids are going to be motherless because of your inflated ego."

"Ignore him Haley." Hotch spoke.

" I'm sure you don't want her to know about this part either." Foyet added. "You know, all he had to do was stop looking for me and you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Don't react."

"What is he talking about?" Haley asked.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case." Y/n knew what that meant. Jack needed to hide. She prayed that he would remember and listen to their father.

"What?" Haley asked confused.

"Tell Jack I need him working the case."

"Did you hear that?" Haley asked her younger brother.

"Hi daddy." Jack spoke into the phone causing Y/n to lurch forward. Her heart ached for her younger brother. His whole world was about to change and he was too innocent for that.

"Hi Buddy." Her dad said voice cracking.

"Is George a bad guy?"

"Yes he is." Hotchner said clearing his throat. "Jack, I need you on this case with me and your sister. Do you understand? We need you to work the case with me."

"Ok daddy." Jack said and Y/n hoped he knew what to do. He was a smart kid, and it was one of his favorite spots to be in when Y/n and Aaron worked on a case at home together.

"Jack, hug your mom for me and sissy okay?" Her dad knew she was listening in. She heard some shuffling and knew Jack was giving Haley a hug for the last time.

"Mommy hug me too tight." Jack said unknowing of the situation at hand.

"I'm sorry." Haley's voice said gently.

"Why are you sad?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I just love you so much." Haley said. "You and your sister are the light of my life."

"Mommy, I gotta go. I'm working the case." Jack told her. Y/n heard Jack's footsteps retreat from the room. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. They were still too far away.

"He's so cute." Foyet said. "He's like a little Junior G-Man. I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"

"Is he gone?" Hotch asked her.

"Yes." Haley responded wiping away her tears and sniffling.

"You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was." Aaron told her.

"You'll hurry right?" She asked. Y/n looked at Derek almost as if urging the car to go faster and she felt Spencer grab her hand. She'd be squeezing her fist so tight there were imprints left from her nails.

"I know you didn't sign on for this." Her father told her.

"Neither did you."

"I'm sorry for everything." Her father admitted.

"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh." This was her goodbye.

"Haley-"

"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious Aaron. I want him to believe in love because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me."

"I promise." Her fathers voice was a whisper. Tears were quietly streaming down her face at this point.

A moment of silence thickened the air, before the sharp sound of 3 gunshots rang out. Y/n broke down in the back of the van letting out a steady stream of quiet tears and flinching at the sound. Derek and Rossi looked back at the girl as Spencer pulled her close letting the girl sob into his shoulder.

"Mom-" She croaked out in barely a whisper. She knew Haley was dead. She knew Foyet would make sure of that. She was in shock at the moment. She didn't want to believe her mother was dead, but she knew that was the case.

The line went dead after the sound of her father throwing the phone and she knew they needed to get to the house as fast as possible.  Morgan sped down the street of her old home, skidding to a stop in front of the house. They found her father relentlessly beating Foyet to death before Morgan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him away.

"Hotch! Hotch!" He yelled. "He's dead. Hotch stop, come on, stop it. It's over, It's over." She watched as her father broke down in Morgans arms. "It's okay it's over man."

Y/n felt her heart in her chest. She couldn't hear, over her heartbeat and her vision was blurred due to the immense amount of tears in her eyes. She felt Spencer's hand on her shoulder and that was all it took to break down. She fell to her knee's being caught along the way by Spencer and began to bawl into his shoulder. His cane fell to the side as he held her close as she broke down into his body.

"Jack-" Y/n said before bolting from the room and into her fathers office. She heard his footsteps behind her. She went to the ottoman that served as a storage unit and opened the lid, not quite knowing what to expect. Her father appeared behind her, a breath of relief escaping both of them to see Jack's face.

"I work the case, just like Daddy said." Jack spoke innocently.

More tears rolled down Y/n's face as she reached into the box to pull her brother out. "Good job Bub" She whispered pulling him into her arms and falling into her dad's embrace.

"What happened to you daddy?"

"I'm okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau okay?" Hotch told his youngest.

"Come here, sweetheart." J.J. said picking her little brother up and taking her down the stairs.

"Where is she dad?" Y/n asked and slowly they walked into the bedroom where Derek was checking her mothers pulse. She was laying there lifeless, and stained with her own blood.

"I'm so sorry Hotch." Derek whispered and slowly she dropped to her knees next to her mother letting out a sob.Grabbing her hand and falling on top of her not caring. about the blood seeping onto her.

"Mom." She sobbed. "Please, no-"

She knew there was no coming back from this. Still, her mind didn't want to process that the woman who raised her was really gone. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Her mom was supposed to be there while Jack grew up, and to watch them both get married and become a grandmother.

"Y/n." Hotchner spoke laying a hand on his daughters back.

She let out a flood of tears screaming into her mothers body as her body racked with sobs shaking violently. She let go and fell back into her fathers embrace staring at her mother's lifeless eyes as he hugged her tightly.

"Get out of here." She faintly heard Derek say. "Go see if they need any help downstairs."

___

"She was already gone." Y/n told Strauss looking blankly at the table. "My dad could do nothing for her, but there's not a doubt in my mind that he saved my brother from what Foyet would've done to him. He would be dead as well."

"She died rather quickly." Strauss told her. Y/n flinched at the word. It was still hard to process that her mother was really gone. "She didn't suffer much."

"That doesn't make it right." Y/n snapped before biting her tongue. "I'm sorry-"

"I'm sorry for your loss." Strauss told her. "If there's anything your family needs-"

"Thank you."

Y/n stood up and nodded at the director before walking to the bullpen to be with Jack and the rest of the team again. She sat down next to Spencer as Jack ran to his sister.

"Hi Bub." She said pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Hi sissy." It wasn't long after that when her father joined and Jack got down from her lap to greet their father in a hug. Reid placed a loving hand on her back and she felt herself relax for the first time in that day into his embrace.

She grabbed his hand subtly and squeezed it tight. I Love you.

He squeezed it back in response and she nodded. I love you too.

[duskbornbaker]

Torchwood!Tommy Character Profile

Essentials:

1) What name did they go by as a Kine, and what name do they go by now? Why and how did they choose this name, if it’s different?

Born Tomàs Baker, they were primarily called "Tommy" in life and that continues. As it's been 80 years since they were registered legally dead, they have decided to take on a false surname, as well as to keep Torchwood from knowing too much about them. They borrowed "McDonnell" from their crush from when they were alive. Though, this is moot, as due to a backfire of a ritual, Torchwood 2 now knows their real name.

2) What year were they born (or how old would they be in life), and what age do they appear? What age do they feel?

They were born in 1907 and died in 1925, so they look like an 18 year old, though with the infirmity they experienced and just life being what it was at the start of the 20th century, their "18" looks a little older. They can often pass as early-mid 20s without too much difficulty. In truth, they are 101 years old. The year is 2008, the pyramid has just fallen and to some degree they feel so young and vulnerable. Old World Kindred tend to be older. Princes have held these positions since, some of them, the establishment of the Camarilla nearly a millennium ago. But then, among the Kine they work with, they feel ancient. People reference pop culture from any of the time while they were in the Pyramid and it just flies over their head. They feel out of place among these oh so young and fragile humans. Thankfully, Seòras helps them feel a little more okay with it. Agent Lennox, being nearly 50 years old, also doesn't get the references. They sometimes sit there while Cami and Ash talk about some movie or internet trend and just let the conversations wash over the two of them, absorbing nothing.

3) Which Clan do they belong to? How do they feel about their Clan?

They were Embraced into Clan Tremere and House Tremere. Though, lately, people have started questioning the truth of their affiliation. They're a Thinblood, after all, do they really deserve the title of "Tremere"? This all is compounded by the fall of the Pyramid. The House is in chaos and the childer are unreigned. Kindred openly rebel against their sires and the new House Ipsissimi has been formed. Generally, the Anarchs accept both their status as Thinblood, some among the 14th Generation even going so far as to call the term a slur. They are the Duskborn. Duskborn are burgeoning into a new Clan within the Anarch movement and while Tommy is yet to be forced to choose between the two, they know the time is coming. They are yet to make a decision.

4) Which Predator type do they most align with and why?

Currently: Bagger. It's part of the conditions of their employment. No feeding off living humans. Tommy has given a taste for the blood of corpses, its disgusting but, occasionally a welcome change, as well as animals, honestly somehow more unpleasant than the former and coming with the added issue of needing multiple vessels to even lend themself a somewhat satisfying meal. No, bagged blood is the best of the options available. Further, they don't have to steal it. Torchwood buys the bags at the same rate a hospital would pay and it simply comes out of the food budget. Yvonne *does* question why their food budget is so high, but as of yet hasn't pursued the issue too closely. Thankfully, Lukas covers for Tommy. It's a precarious situation, but one that balances for now.

5) Who Sired them, and into what Generation were they Sired? What’s their relationship with their Sire like, and what were the circumstances of their Embrace?

They were sired by their sister: Somhairlín Baker into the 14th Generation. They were scheduled to be Embraced anyway, by Sam's sire, but before the date was supposed to come, they were struck in a motor vehicle accident while in Galway seeking medical treatment for their chronic anemia. Anemia caused by Sam's clandestine use of Tommy as a Cloven Blood Doll. Somhairlín, feeling guilt, Embraced Tommy. Their parents died. The two bonded closer than in life. This would eventually be a source of great pain in Tommy's life as, in early 2008 following the F1rstlight attack on the Vienna Chantry and the Head of the Tremere Pyramid, Tommy felt need to murder their sister.

6) What level of Humanity are they? Has this changed over the years they’ve been dead?

Tommy's Humanity is very low. Due to the practices of the London Chantry and a development of growing Noddist and Cainite practices, Tommy ended up on the Path of Caine during their time in London. They moved to London to escape Thinblood persecution in the post-War era and it was for naught. In London, Tommy hid themself as Sam's ghoul, and Sam, in turn, entered them into a Blood Wedding, a situation where two Vampires bond themselves to the other threw drinking each other's Vitae. This created a feedback loop where both of them sunk to deeper levels of depravity match for match. And, under Hal Grove, Regent of their Chantry, they began doing research into the Thinblood condition.

The research consisted mostly of Embracing new Thinbloods and finding the limits of the condition: could they use disciplines, could they bond, could they be tapped as a source of Vitae... all of these answers proved to be "sometimes" and the Baker siblings lost grip on their humanity with extreme speed. Since the Fall of the Pyramid, they have been slowly clawing their way back; first: onto the Path of Humanty, a dangerous feat to attempt without personal guidance, and then slowly up the ladder of morality. Now, they sit at humanity 5 -- 6 through 8 being the usual extremes of the average human being.

7) Which Disciplines do they possess, and which do they favor using?

They have the traditional disciplines of Clan Tremere: Thaumaturgy, Dominate, Auspex, but they favor Thaumaturgy. In their role as offensive specialist they favor the paths of Flames and Nebulism. The former as a means of attack and the latter to disable enemies or clear a building of civilians.

8) Who are their Touchstones, if any? / 9) What are their Convictions (moral opinions and standings they hold fast to)?

Cami. A fellow Agent of Torchwood who vouched for them to become member of the team. She represents a value of trusting others judgements. As they say "I take pride in the goodness and strength of my friends and that they, being as such, should care for me."

Lukas. Their boss, the head of Torchwood 2. They keep Tommy in line and enforce the value of the preservation of human life. As much as Tommy is frustrated that Engstrom is blackmailing them to keep them in line, to some degree they are thankful.

10) Do they belong to any sect or are they independent?

They belong to the Anarchs. Hard to be a Camarilla Tremere when you collapsed your old Chantry and murdered your sire. No Camarilla Tremere will touch them. They wouldn't bleed on Tommy if they were on fire.

Life

1) What did they do (as a career or in general) before they were Embraced?

They were a Seminarian, studying to be a Priest. Now, that is just completely out of the realm of possibility.

2) Do they still have mortal family or friends, or descendants of those people? Who were they closest to during life, and is there anyone they’ve contacted after their Embrace?

Still, no. Again? Yes. The people they knew are dead and tracking them down would be dangerous. Once, they tried to find their namesake McDonnell's descendants, but lost track of them when they moved to the New World. Thus is unlife. A series of disappointments. And what would they have said anyway? 100 years ago I wanted to kiss your grandfather? That's not going over well. It's as good a reason as any not to keep pursuing.

3) What were their hobbies, skills, and interests?

They knit. They were rarely able to make the trek to the school at the other end of the island in their youth and so they took up crafts. One of the neighbors had sheep and often sold clothes. With Tommy's health the way it was, they sometimes couldn't get out of the chair for days and spinning wool into yarn by hand and kniting the yarn into fabrics. It was nice. They were always cold so now they had sweaters and blankets to keep themself warm. They also sold some of their wares in town, or, the neighbor sold them and split the profits. A necessary source of income when their father was out at sea so long and money became scarce.

4) Did they have any vices, addictions, or mental illnesses? Which carried over into death?

They smoked. The doctors suggested it as means of strengthening the lungs with hopes of helping them build up the energy to walk. Obviously, this was counter intuitive. When they did feel up to it, and the night air was fresh and cool, Tommy and their friend Larry McDonnell would sneak into the chapel and "borrow" a bottle of communion wine. Red-faced and dizzy, they would fall in love with him over and over again, afraid of what it meant, but craving the times when they felt brave enough to reach out for him. Sometimes Tommy felt like maybe Larry felt something in return. It was hard to peel the alcohol from the desires from the truth, and so they never truly acted on it.

5) What were they most afraid of in life? How has this changed?

They were most afraid of their homosexuality. Did this mean they were going to Hell. Did they have to worry about dragging someone else down with them... This has changed in that they have largely given up on the Catholic faith. Perhaps they'll come back to it, they feel a draw to spirituality to fill the hole left by their lapsed Noddism and worship of their Domitor-and-Thrall. They've attended services a few times lately and it seems like some of the opinions within the flock are shifting. They don't want to get too attached but reattajing to their human faith is helping them feel just that much more Human, an addicting feeling.

6) What were their goals and ambitions in life? How has this changed?

Their goal at the time had been to squash their sexuality with faith. Now, they have embraced their queerness. It's a struggle many days to treat themself with kindness in that front. Hell, it's a struggle most days to treat anyone with kindness. But they're getting better.

7) Did they follow any religion or spiritual paths in life? How did that change when they died, if at all?

They were a Catholic in life, hoping to become a Priest and then in Unlife first abandoned religion but then got drawn in by the lures of Cainite Noddism. Now, with the Fall of the Pyramid, they feel a call to that old religion once again. Who knows where it will take them.

8) When they were Embraced, what was the aftermath like? Did they fake their death, do their loved ones think they went missing, etc.?

Their family died along with them so they faked that they died, too. At least they don't have to worry about their parents thinking they're missing.

Death

1) What have they spent most of their years as a Kindred doing?

Most of it has been spent researching their condition. Now, they are one of the most knowledgeable , probably in the world, on what it means to be a Thinblood.

2) What’s the entire lineage of their bloodline, from them all the way back to their Clan’s Antediluvian? Is there anything in particular that they and their grandsires all had in common?

They were primarily raised by their grandsire. Sam's sire took them on as a second childe, even though they had planned to wait maybe 10 years. So, Tommy got the same education as their sister. His sire, however, I haven't thought as much about.

3) How do they adapt to the changing times around them? Do they still uphold values, styles, or other things from the past?

They definitely dress a little bit out of time. And what's not anachronistic is absolutely horrible. They dont, however, adapt very well. They haven't gone through the back catalogue of media Cami gave them, cultural milestones and things that have happened... Just a few months ago, Tommy found out man had touched foot on the moon. They are more than a little behind the times.

4) Do they have a coterie? What position do they take in that group, if so? Otherwise, do they have any notable Kindred (or other creatures) friends?

Their "coterie" is probably the Torchwood 2 team, deapite being Kine. They serve as a blaster with magic on call they can destroy threats and protect their lives -- especially Lukas Engstrom, who, if he dies, will release a catalogue of all the information he has gathered on Kindred to every intelligence agency in the world, a threat Tommy doesn't take lightly.

They are also connected to Alastríona "Cass" Balach. She is Tommy's sponsor in House Ipsissimi and, by human standards, their Sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous. The disguise is simple wordplay, but the Ipsissimi hide themselves within the Crowleian "Astrum Argenteum" which they in turn have using Alcoholics Anonymous as a front. This also serves as an out for Tommy. They couch their cravings for human blood in terminology based around Alcoholism and thus they are given a space to discuss their emotions. At meetings is also where a Ghouls of Balach's will give them study materials if need be. New rituals and information about the next step on one of their Paths. It's a pretty nice arrangement.

5) Which of their Clan’s stereotypes apply to them? Which do they act against, or embody the opposite of?

They are a neurotic mess. A perfectionist to their core, and sometimes they apply that perfectionism outward becoming a domineering person. They are secretive and dangerous. They have spent decades engaging in unethical magical experiments. Truly, they are quintessential Tremere.

However, they fight to change that. They want to be a better person and a better Kindred. They want to look at a person and not feel a desire to take them apart and find out how they tick. Thankfully, Engstrom keeps them in line on that front, with the actually follow8ng through of it anyway.

6) How do they feel about the Antitribu of their Clan?

Having very nearly been one, they understand the allure. The draw of Vampiric Supremacy and the willingness to bring human kind to their knees, however, they also pulled away. Once their eyes were clear they put their very existence on the line, revealed to the Prince that they had been a Thinblood illegally living in her domain and turned on the Cainites to bring the White Hall Chantry down. They fear the Tremere Antitribu. Their sponsor was also former Goratrix and, bearing the Mark of the Traitor, she was a fullfledged member who partook of the Vaulderie. Whatever brought her out remains to be seen, but Tommy wouldn't have an in at continuing Thaumaturgical Studies without her, and for that, he's grateful.

7) Have they Embraced anyone? Ghouled anyone?

They have, but not to keep around. And having lived in the Blood Bond for decades, they never want to do that to anyone else again.

8) Do they prowl, or is there a city they permanently reside in?

They seem to have settled in Glasgow, as much to be close to their new Sponsor as anything else. And, with their membership in Torchwood 2, they hope to stick around for a long time.

9) What’s their haven like?

They live at the Glasgow Hub: the basement of a nondescript Warehouse in a district of Warehouses, itself hidden by Vampiric magics. They have a private room to live and sleep in near the entrance. When they sleep, they are the first line of defense if something should come in. They protect the themself and their partners with another spell that will wake them immediately if a danger disturbs their residence.

The Hole itself is cozy. Not very big, about the size of a studio apartment. A single room with a bed, a bookshelf, and a fridge to hold Blood Bags. Not too much going on otherwise.

10) Do they believe they are descended from Caine, or do they follow a different path?

They do not believe they are descended from Caine. They have looked at the information Ash has managed to draw from them and it appears that Vampirism may be of extraterrestrial origin. Its exact origin is unknown, but alien stock seems to rule out the concepts purported by Noddism. And, after a period of time otherwise, they are back on the Path of Humanity.

11) How do they feel about Diablerie?

They wonder often. They wonder if they should have Diablerized Sam. Sure, it's a crime in the Camarilla, but they are no longer Camarilla, and they wouldn't be a Thinblood anymore. They would be a stronger force to reckon with, more able to protect their team... But it's a dangerous line of thought. And there's nothing doing, now.

12) Regardless of whether or not they adhere to Camarilla rule, have they ever broken any of the Traditions?

13) Do they believe in Gehenna? How do they feel about Thin-bloods, and do they believe they’re a sign of the end times?

Absolutely. Most of them. Respect of Domain and Hospitality. Their existence is a violation first of all. And they killed their sire. Even with permission, that's still a violation of the Traditions.

14) Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Not anymore. Its been a long unlife, and it was even longer thinking their own existence would draw the death of their people closer. But, they have learned to shrug off these kind of Noddist teachings. And they don't think the world is going anywhere any time soon.

The moment the Blood Bond broke, they frenzied and drank someone to death out of rage. An innocent person dead because they couldn't keep their cool. Other than that, no. They have kept themself well fed these years. And tht hope to keep it that way.

[luke-o-lophus]

Coming Back to Life

Sam Wilson & Indian/Desi Reader friendship

Warning: Mention of canon typical violence.

Sam's sleep is finally back on schedule. His last mission had been three weeks ago. Three weeks without a pair of confused, highly energetic and lovestruck supersoldiers in constant vicinity. Apparently that did wonders for your health.

So of course he isn't particularly thrilled when his doorbell rings. At a particularly sweet spot in his dream too. He taps the phone screen; it's four in the fucking morning. Swear to god, if Steve tries to coax him into another early morning race, he is gonna go rogue.

You blink a few times, jarred by the volume of the bell. Your fingers draw back from the switch, and you awkwardly look on either side of the small corridor. A single lamp shone in the middle, too bright for your burning eyes. That's weird, you feel numb everywhere else. Your head feels like fluffed up cotton candy. And you sure as hell don't have any smart quips when Sam opens the door. His face goes through all shades of annoyance, then shock, finally concern, all too fast for you to register.

"Oh man you look like shit", he mutters, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you in. Your legs obey him, though you jump slightly at the door slamming.

"Hey", you greet, heavily sitting on the chair he pulls out for you. "I...Uh...", swallow a few times trying to clear up your head and say something intelligent or at least relevant. "Water?", is all you manage, and Sam's holding out a glass before you can blink. He regards you cautiously from a little distance; the mud caked on your shoes and knees, the bloody patches on your dull cheek, a side of your lip swollen to an uncomfortable degree.

"You didn't tell me you had a mission", he deadpans.

"A stealth mission. Kind of defeats the 'stealth' if I yap", you reply with venom, and Sam glares.

"So it's yapping now? Can I ask how the mission went or is that way too much information to share with me" Ah, he was trying so hard to not slip into his Captain voice.

You put down the glass suddenly, jaws clenched and hands gripping knees. "Mission successful", you rattle off. "Target eliminated, encountered additional three hostiles; two eliminated. Intel download status 100%. Agent status, no serious injury, not in need of hospitalization." Your eyes flicker to his for a moment, then scurry back down.

Sam cocks a brow, swallows in a swear and sits on a chair before you. "What happened? What's wrong?", he asks. "You're not being yourself right now."

You look up at that, eye blazing with fury. "What?", you seethe. "I just reported. What do you want me to say? What's that even supposed to mean? That I'm fucking out of my mind?"

"Whoa whoa tiger hold it...I just want you to tell me what.... What you need, kay?"

Your eyes sink into uncertainty at that question, legs shifting uncomfortably. "May-maybe I should go", you mumble. But Sam's hand is immediately on your shoulder to keep you seated, his gaze hard and warning.

"What.... I can't even go home now?", You mutter tiredly. Sam pursed his lips staring into your sunken eyes and shook his head. "No you can't", he confirms, adding for the mirth,"Cap's order."

The grip of your fingers is weak when you reach up to hold his wrist. "Can I...can I have Sammy instead?" Sam's look blanched and he's immediately touching your chin to tilt your face up. "Anytime", he soothes, running a thumb on your cheek."I got you, kid. You're home, gonna be fine."

A shiver passes through your body, still sitting ramrod straight. The trembling of your lips makes you wince slightly. How longer would the adrenaline high hold up? The crash was coming soon, and hard. You were so fucking scared. Still hyper aware of your surrounds. Every flicker of a shadow, every sound of wheels on the adjacent road. Your eyes wandering to the door every few moments to verify it was indeed bolted. "I... don't think I can....", you whisper.

"It's okay to come down, mission's over. I want my tiger back too, can you do that for me?"

Your nod is feeble but earnest, and he's then moving closer, slowly, long dark arms wrapping your smaller frame in a hug. You flinch only a little at first, but he holds on, as do you. You try to complain once that you were getting his clothes dirty, but he shuts you up with a "I cleaned brain goop from this last month." That gets you to release a snort of laughter and sink your head down to his shoulder. His fingers gently reach for your head and he quietly asks for permission and when you nod, pulls off your hair tie. Then his fingers are carding through your black locks, combing the strands, working out knots, fingernails gently scraping against your scalp. Your eyes grow heavier and your heart, lighter. He notices your wavering strength, of course he does. "You need a bath", he states.

"Just five more minutes", you moan, looking way too adorable for someone with blood of at least three strangers and yourself splattered on your skin. But it's that cuteness that's going to be Sam's death someday.

"Fine, three", he grunts.

"Ten", you shoot back.

"God dammit"

[something-tofightfor]

Billy Russo: NSFW Alphabet

Here it is. This took me a LONG ASS TIME to finish... and it’s the first NSFW Alphabet that I have ever completed... so I took my time on it, and was very, VERY thorough. 

This is VERY 1000000% TOTALLY NSFW. 

Do not read this if you’re under 18. This is not for you. There is some mild BDSM content included here, and some potential triggers... if you’re concerned, feel free to message me and I can tell you what’s going on before you decide to read. 

Everything’s under the cut because I literally cannot help myself and started things out smutty as hell. 

This is Billy as I imagine him in the He’s Not Here universe. 

... oh, and um, enjoy K. 

Rating: NSFW 

Word Count: 8972 (I told you I was thorough.) 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the character of Billy Russo, but I wish I did.This is all still in reference to the man Billy is before Season 2 of Daredevil and Season 1 of The Punisher. 

Tagging:  @banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @doneobrien @diorskisses @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @delicatelilyflower @ilkaeliseb @snek-shit @personthatlovesshippings @httpfandxms @ghostssss

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex

For most people, after sex, Billy shuts down. He doesn’t cuddle, doesn’t like excessive touching, and has no interest in small talk. He completed the mission, and it’s time to move on. He won’t kick women out of bed in the middle of the night, but if he’s ended up at a woman’s place, he usually (although not always - if he enjoyed himself, he’ll spend the night and go for round two in the morning before he leaves) finds a reason to leave.

With you, though, Billy’s a little different. You’ve earned his trust and his friendship, and that means that you get to curl up in bed next to him, his arm around your waist. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair as you both calm down. He’s not romantic about it, but he never fails to tell you just how great you feel when your muscles clench around him, or how fucking good you looked beneath or on top of him.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light

Billy likes restraining you, but he’s not 100% into being held back with anything more restrictive than one of his ties or your scarves… or your hands. Even though he’s much stronger than you, he’s willing to let you hold his wrists down while you’re riding him. He learned to tie knots during his service time, and loves to show off his skills… but what he really wants to try is tying your hands together above your head and fucking you while you’re standing. He’s strong enough to support your body weight with one arm, leaving the other free to explore every inch of your exposed skin.

Also, he convinced you to let him blindfold you once while your wrists were tied and now every time you smell his cologne - even on other men - you can’t help but get a little lightheaded… or resist the urge to press your thighs together.

C=Cum - pretty self explanatory

Billy hates feeling dirty or sticky, but he makes an exception - sometimes - when you’ve worn each other out. Not through the night, he always has to get up and clean himself (and you) off before he’ll let either of you fall asleep. Typically, though, since he is very careful to always wear a condom during sex, things aren’t that messy… but if you get a little too excited and he has to pull out before he comes, or you’ve decided to use your hands or mouth on him? You’ll get to feel his hands stroking over every inch of your skin as he cleans you up to his satisfaction.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Billy Russo is as dominant as they come - and loves to give you orders, which you are more than happy to follow. There’s something about listening to him barking out commands - “Sit down. Spread your legs.” - that makes you weak in the knees. But he doesn’t give you time to dwell on what he says, because once he gets going, there’s no stopping him. It only takes four words - “Get over here. Now.”  - and you’re lost to him… but he doesn’t like to take complete control every time you’re together, because it’s more fun to be spontaneous.

E=Experience

Even though Billy’s been with many women, (you’ve never asked for an exact number and wouldn’t dream of it) and knows exactly what to do to your body to set it on fire, it still took you two a few tries to fall into the perfect rhythm.  His prior experience had been with women who were all too willing to fall straight into his bed without any context, and because he’d actually known you and wanted to make sure things were different, the experience he had almost didn’t matter because your first time wasn’t quick and dirty - he took his time with you. The one thing though, that you’re sure of is that all of his prior experience has made it possible for him to delay his own pleasure for longer periods of time in order to ensure that you’re thoroughly satisfied.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy)

Laying in bed with Billy one night, his cheek resting on your bare chest, you’d asked him what his ultimate fantasy was. He rolled over, turning his head to look at you. “No one wants to know what my fantasies are.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “They just want me to fulfil theirs.” You laughed, telling him that you really wanted to know, that you couldn’t make it happen unless you knew where to start. “Alright. You really want to know?” You nodded, your nails raking across his scalp as you smoothed his hair back. “It’s pretty simple. I want to fuck someone in a place that means something to me - that’s a symbol of my success.” You frowned, and he continued. “Not my apartment, that’s boring… but somewhere else. The facility?” You knew he was referring to the building he wanted to rent for the company he was planning to start. “On the training mats, or on the equipment… maybe even using some of the equipment” His eyes had darkened. “And then, that way, every time I look at it or use it, I’ll know.No one else will, but I will.” He licked his lips. “It’d be a good memory, enough to get me through the hard days.” Though you were surprised that he hadn’t done that yet, hadn’t brought a woman to his office, or been with anyone in a public place like that, he wrinkled his nose and shook his head, beard scratching against your skin when you voiced your response. “I like to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, never wanted to take anyone there. Well, I did… but there just wasn’t… anyone worthwhile.”

You’d been almost asleep later that night when he spoke again, leaning over to kiss you just beneath the ear. “My real fantasy, though?” He whispered the words and you didn’t move, didn’t respond because you knew that if he had any indication that you could actually hear him, or that you were awake that he wouldn’t continue. “My real fantasy is someone being capable of loving me for what I am, not what I can give them.” He settled back into his pillows on his side, one arm going over your waist. “I might even be able to care for them, too.”

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex

Billy’s not shy about his sexual encounters, and he’s actually been caught plenty of times. Quickies in bathrooms, hooking up in the coatroom of a restaurant, some girl going down on him in his car… none of it phases him, because Billy is 100% totally unashamed about sex and about what it means… because it’s just for pleasure and release, and there’s not much emotion behind it for him. Does he enjoy it? Of course… but to Billy, it’s not something that should be hidden, because sex is just that: an act. Yeah, his face turns a little red and he might get a bit annoyed if someone catches him in a compromising position… but he’s still more than capable of finishing even when he knows there’s a captive audience.

Except with you. He doesn’t want anyone else to see you with his hands on your body, doesn’t want anyone else to get an eyeful of you when the two of you are being intimate - because that’s for him and no one else. He’s not against touching you in public, teasing you with a hand on your lower back or resting on the curve of your ass - or even lower, when his fingers brush against the backs of your thighs beneath your skirt- ��but as soon as he thinks that someone might be watching, it’s back to business as usual, and you’ve gotta wait til the time is right for him to finish what he’s started.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated

Billy’s got a lot of these spots, and you’ve had the pleasure of finding them for yourself.

For example:

He’s got a thing about his neck. He loves it when you run your fingers through his beard, scraping your nails against his skin. He loves it even more, though, when you use your teeth and tongue on the same area, moving up from his Adam’s apple toward his jawline. He’ll throw his head back and moan your name, digging his fingers into the skin of your back or shoulders, depending on your position.

Billy also thoroughly enjoys when your hands are on his hips and your fingers move to that perfect V of well defined muscles. Not only does you tracing circles against his skin soothe him, it tells him that something even better is about to happen. Though you’d be content to have your fingers against his skin for hours, Billy’s impatience usually leads to sex quite quickly, and then he’s totally fine with you going back to touching him once you’ve finished.

One final thing? Billy gets weak in the knees if you’re holding hands and you use your thumb to draw on his palm. It happened one night at dinner when you were out with Frank and Maria, and ever since, it’s been your “in public” go-to move ever since, and you know that a few swipes of your thumb get him hard as hell.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex

Intimacy with Billy isn’t the same as it is with other men, because even though he’s romantic in the sense that he anticipates what you want and need, it’s more about the friendship that you’ve built with him. He’s good with dates - remembers your birthday, the day you met, etc… but he’s not about grand gestures, at least when it comes to proving his feelings. To Billy, intimacy means honesty - and when he opened up about his past with you, that was more intimate than the previous hours he’d spent inside of you or with his mouth on you.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

Billy likes to toy with you, but you know that pretty much anything can (and will) result in sex. The lead up is almost as good as the main event; Billy’s good at getting your attention, but it’s not like he does anything out of the ordinary. It’s the small things, the subtle things that he does to work you up, to get you to notice him - as if you could ever ignore him.

It starts with the looks he gives you, one eyebrow raised across the table (or sitting next to you at the bar or on the couch), the way that his tongue doesn’t ever seem to stay in his mouth for very long… it’s always making its way across his lips, poking out between his teeth as he laughs or smiles. It gets more intense when you notice his fingers moving against each other; sometimes with flat palms, other times lacing together as if he’s stretching them out (...and those fingers get very dexterous when they’re ready to go).

From there, it’s all about the eye contact. Billy’s a master at giving you bedroom eyes… especially when you’re out in public; that smoldering look from deep within eyes that are so dark you can’t tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins - but when he’s looking at you and thinking about you beneath him, it doesn’t matter, because no one has ever looked at you the way that Billy Russo does, and you know that no matter how many other partners you’ll have in the future, no one ever will again.

The fact of the matter is that Billy’s a master at using his own body language to get you ready to go - and then once his low voice fills your ears, be it at a normal volume or rasped into your ear, asking “D’you even know what I’m gonna do to you?”, well he’s already won. With him, it’s not about the touching or the physical foreplay; you know what Billy looks like beneath his clothes and what he’s capable of… it’s about what’s on the outside and what he can do with a few simple movements or mannerisms… it’s his behaviors, the unconscious actions that get you truly worked up.

K=Kinks - list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

Three things: knives, sensation play and … well defined collarbones?

Yes, you’re reading that right. Billy Russo has a thing for a woman with pronounced collarbones. You figured that out the first night that you wore a strapless dress with him - on the first date you went on after sleeping with him - though you’d noticed him constantly finding ways to touch your shoulders and clavicle, even before he’d seen you without clothes. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you that night in particular, and as soon as you’d gotten back to his place, you’d found out why.

“C’mere.” Reaching out, Billy took your hand and pulled you close to him, nuzzling his face against your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” Whispering into your ear, he’d lowered his head to kiss the top of your shoulder, his fingers moving on either side of your neck before he moved his hands to your waist to hold you in place, hip to hip.

You thought he was going for your neck, but to your surprise, Billy’s lips hovered over the base of your throat before dropping down to touch your skin. He moved back outward toward your shoulder, following along against the ridge of bone that was clearly visible beneath the skin, lips parted as they traced against it. You felt his tongue too, hot and wet and joined by his teeth as he nipped at your skin, first on one side of your body and then the other. “Fuck.” He was whispering against you, the hot breath against the dampness left by his mouth making you shiver, and so when his mouth finally stopped moving, you didn’t know what to expect next. “Was that alright?” He was panting and you could feel his… level of interest against your body, his hips rocking gently against you. “Fuck, I can’t… shit.” And then his mouth was on you again, teeth closing with a bit more force against your skin and your hands were in his hair and you didn’t know how anything could feel better… until, of course, that dark head of his made it between your legs for the very first time.

As for the sensation play…. Billy likes to experiment with hot and cold. Ice cubes being moved against body parts are one of his favorites; he loves using them against your breasts, teasing the nipples into hard peaks before taking them into his mouth to warm them back up, or simply running the cold squares up and down your stomach, letting them melt against your abdomen just to hear you gasp before he dips his head down and licks the liquid from your skin. And his fingers, cold against  and inside of your warmest place? There’s nothing else like it. He loves when you tease him with ice, too - sucking on the cubes to freeze your mouth before you use your tongue along his length… but he likes warmth more.

And you’re only happy to oblige his simple requests for candle wax in the bed; though you were afraid it would be too messy, too painful, he assured you that it wasn’t… and he was  right. The first time you’d tilted the candle over his sternum, straddling his hips and  watching as his eyes locked on the flickering flame - dark and hooded - you’d been afraid that when it finally dripped down, he’d be mad… but he’d been the exact opposite. His hands fisted into the blankets and he hissed through his bared teeth up at you as the liquid touched his skin and began hardening, his hips rising to meet yours as he arched his back. “Again. More.” This was trust - and Billy gave it to you freely…. So you did exactly as he asked, feeling yourself begin to come apart as you watched him do the same with every single drop of red wax against his pale, perfect skin.

When it comes to knives, Billy Russo is something of an expert. You see it in his eyes when he’s eating dinner and he focuses on the blades that he uses to cut his food, when he’s cataloging his weapons in his apartment, his fingers moving across the serrated edges of the knives as he cleans or sharpens them… but there’s something special about his KA-BAR, the handle well worn, blade still as sharp as the day it was issued. You’ve seen him play with it, testing the weight in his hands, twirling the point against his palm or on the surface of a table, and something about the action; the idea that one slip of the razor sharp edge could put an end to anything in front of it - especially in his hands - to see how lovingly he handles that knife as if it’s an extension of himself… really gets you in the mood. And so, one day, you decide to bring it up to him after a particularly intense fuck while the feeling of his fingers at your throat is still in the forefront of your mind.

“So.” You cleared your throat, running your fingers across his bare chest, the sparse hair there damp with sweat. “So.. Billy.” You wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, you were nervous. “Um.” You cleared your throat again, eyes cast downward at the sheet bunched over his waist. “Have you ever, um... “ What is this? Would he even be interested? Is it… weird? “How do you feel about knife play?” He sucked in a breath and immediately his hands found your face, turning it toward him as he sat up in bed, eyes wide.

“What did you ask me?” His tone was unreadable, but his eyes were blazing. “Knives? In bed?” You nodded. “I never… that’s not something that you bring up on the first night you’re in bed with someone; that shit would scare most people away.”

“So, is that a no?” You were bolder now, seeing the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more rapid. It’s a no. But he’s… not turning it down. “No knives? I see how you look at them when you’re…”

“I’m interested. But… why?” His voice had gotten more gruff, his tongue moving across his lower lip. “You… would you trust me?” Yes.

“I don’t know why. But… yes.” You were surprised at how strong your voice was and you reached out, fingers curling against his chin, which was barely covered in stubble. “Yeah, I think it’d be pretty fucking great.” He smiled, but it was a cold smile, a smile that took him out of the room and far away - but the warmth never left his eyes. “You seem to… like blades, and…”

“I do.” He sniffed, nose crinkling. “I like them very much.”

---

Two weeks later, you were in bed with him at his place, both of you almost nude when he’d stopped, kneeling over you with his hands moving against the skin of your stomach, just above the waistband of your panties. “So.” He licked his lips, cocking his head to the side. “So, about those knives.” Your breathing sped up, and he smirked. “You still interested?” You nodded emphatically, and he did too, reaching over to the side table and opening the drawer, producing a blade that was much smaller than his typical knife… but still at least four inches long. “I looked into it.” He held the blade up, allowing it to catch the light from the street lamp outside the window. “I wanted to make sure we could be safe, so we’re not using my knives, those have… seen and done too much. This one isn’t as sharp, there’s less of a chance for breaking skin.”

“Billy….” You breathed his name, eyes focused on the blade glittering in the semi-darkness, but he was focused on the blade too, bringing it down to rest flat against the palm of his hand. And then he looked back at you.

“I got some ground rules, though.” You nodded, your lips parted. “Nothin’ near your face or your neck.” Ok, that’s … yes. “I ain’t gonna restrain you at all. This isn’t about fear or domination. Maybe we can work up to that, but…” His features softened. “I don’t wanna scare you. I’m not gonna get off on your fear.” You nodded, your lips still parted, and then he transferred the blade to his other hand, putting it down against the mattress before he leaned in to kiss you hard, his tongue plunging into your mouth. “You want me to stop, you think it’s too much, you use the word…” He paused. “Anvil.” Another nod from you. “Alright. Prop yourself up on those pillows.”

You did as he asked and then he scooted backwards, resting on your thighs as he leaned forward, lifting the knife up again. He started with it just below the hollow of your neck, pressing down with the tip slightly - just so that you could feel it, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation, feeling the cold blade against your skin. He was still smirking as he spun the blade, trailing it down between your breasts, tilting it so that the entirety of the blade’s width made contact with your skin. You were panting by the time he reached your navel, and his eyes were locked on the movement of the knife, entirely focused on what he was doing. You thought that you were going to combust by the time he’d finished with the skin of your abdomen, scooting even further back down your legs, his stance widening.

The blade turned in his hand and slipped beneath your pantyline, the metal cold against the sensitive skin there and you bucked your hips - and he for the first time touched you with his hand again, pushing you back down against the mattress. “Spread your legs.” You did so without question, and he removed the knife from beneath the elastic, passing it from one hand to the other. “Remember. Anvil.” But as you were nodding, the blade dipped between your legs, and the sensation of the cool metal against the inside of your thigh -  first one leg and then the other, running from the apex of your thighs almost to your knees and then back up - slowly, so slowly - had you moaning from deep in your throat, and you had to fight to keep your eyes open because watching him watch you was the biggest turn on in the entire universe.

Billy was watching intently, and you could see just how aroused he was, the outline of his length well defined against his light colored boxer briefs as he moved his hand. “Billy, fucking hell.” Your words were a whisper, fingers tangled into the blankets beneath you - and he continued to drag the blade up and down, alternating between using the edge and the tip, fast and then slow, and his breaths increased in frequency. I’m going to come without him even touching me, this is insane. As the thought crossed your mind, he pulled the knife back up, looked at it and then raised his eyes to yours. You’d never seen them so dark, and if you hadn’t trusted him so completely, you would have been terrified.

“You like these?” He used the knife to indicate your panties, and when you shook your head no, he grinned at you. “Good.” He swiftly returned the blade to its former location, sliding it back beneath the left leg opening and turned the sharp edge upward. With a quick jerk of his hand - and a gasp at the coolness against your skin again - the material separated in a straight line. Oh Jesus. Billy lowered the blade again, using it to move the lace out of the way, exposing you to him. He paused, and then an almost playful smile crossed his lips, his eyes focused on the area between your legs. “Get ready.” He adjusted his position and lowered himself onto his chest, propping himself up on his elbows between your legs… and then the knife was back, the flat side of the blade pressed against your entrance and you gasped, moaning his name again.

After a few moments, Billy removed the knife and then raised it in front of his face, looking at you over it. Without breaking eye contact, he turned the knife so that the sharp edge was facing you and in one movement, licked along the entire length of the blade, his eyes rolling back into his head only as he got his first taste of you. You barely had time to register what you were looking at before you - distantly - heard the knife clattering against the wall and the floor and he surged forward, diving back between your legs.

You used knives a lot after that, and things even got a little more dangerous a time passed.

L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Risky, no. Public? Yes. Billy isn’t against pinning you (or anyone, for that matter) against the wall to kiss you senseless, but he’s not about to willingly remove all of his clothes in a very public place. He likes the safety and confines of his spaces - the car, his apartment, anywhere comfortable. Billy Russo has worked hard to ensure that he can be comfortable when he is having sex. While location is something to consider, Billy won’t pass up an opportunity to get laid, even if it means that he has to be a little creative about where… and how it happens.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

Due to his time in the military, Billy’s learned the art of masturbation - he can get himself off in less a minute when he’s really in a hurry, but he’s able to prolong it if he’s watching something interesting… like you, touching yourself in front of him. When he’s alone, it’s quick, clinical and specifically to find release… but if you’re in the room, everything changes.

Billy doesn’t need any visual aids; he’s got enough mental images of you and his past partners to get the job done. But if he can hear you? That makes him come even faster, even if he can’t see you, which is why he’s taken to calling you for some audible “help” when he’s got to stay late at work or you’re busy planning an event.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

Billy will not, under any circumstances take part in sexual encounters that are with drunk women. He won’t take advantage of a woman’s lack of control - he knows what it’s like to be misled and used. He will not simulate acts of violence like kidnapping, rape, torture or strangulation. He’s willing to apply a little pressure to your throat (and fuck do you love it when he’s got his fingers there), but he won’t let it get to the point of true pain. He won’t ever hit you, either.

Billy will also not entertain the idea of bringing a second man into the bedroom, though he’s very open to having a second woman… since there’s more than enough of him to go around.

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

Billy likes an intelligent woman that isn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Most of the women he sleeps with land in his bed because he likes the way that they look - but the ones that are willing so sass him a little and meet his one liners with comebacks of their own? They’re the ones he comes back to, the ones that get second dates. Confidence - like the confidence Billy has in himself - is the biggest turn on that Billy can think of.

He loves seeing a woman’s hand against his forearm. There’s something about the way a woman’s fingers look wrapped around his skin; the slender fingers and long, painted nails. This also applies to the way your hand looks wrapped around his length, too.

Billy’s turned on by a woman that can hold their liquor. He likes to drink and have a good time, and while he understands that there’s a time for drinks like daiquiris and margaritas, he can truly appreciate a woman that can slug back shots of whiskey drink for drink with him.

He likes receiving flirty text messages from you, and you’ve perfected the art of getting him hard - and ready - with only a few words…. Or pictures. Billy likes knowing that you’re thinking about him, and there’s nothing like a picture of the swell of your breast above the bathwater or the curve of your ass on top of the bedsheets to get him going.

P=Position -  Their favorite position to have sex in.

This might surprise people to learn, but Billy’s favorite position for sex is taking you from behind. Standing, laying down, sitting… he loves the way that it feels to have your entire back pressed against his chest, his hands on your breasts… or your neck, or your lower body, fingers moving against your skin. He loves the feeling of controlling your movements against him, and even though he can’t always look at your face this way, it’s the perfect position for having sex in front of a mirror, where he can stare at you all he wants - head to toe. He also really likes this position because it leaves his mouth free to explore.. And he loves to latch his lips against your neck, his teeth on your earlobe… or, best of all, holding your head to the side and kissing you like you’re the last woman alive and only he knows how to keep you satisfied.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

Billy won’t ever turn down lengthy, multiple rounds of sex, but he’s a sucker for quickies too, because he loves the thrill of knowing that he can get you off so quickly - and thoroughly… like the time he surprised you at work, and make you come three times in in under fifteen minutes in your office’s break room. He’d finished too, of course, but being quick wasn’t anything new for him… and you’d helped him out immensely by whispering into his ear and telling him all of the things that you wanted him to do to you later that night.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

It’s no surprise that Billy’s rough more often than not, but he’s not so rough that it’s off putting. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s strong and he’s focused, and sometimes he gets a little carried away. This is especially true when he’s on top of you, because that way he can set the pace that suits him the best, and you can’t do anything but let him go for it. It’s also true when you’re on your hands and knees for him; even when you begin in the middle of the bed, more often than not, you end up bracing yourself against the headboard after slipping across his (or your own) sheets.

His kisses are biting, no matter where on your body they fall. Your lips are often swollen for hours after you’ve been together, and he’s been known to leave marks on your breasts, ass and even your inner thighs and biceps because it’s almost as if he can’t keep his mouth and his teeth to himself in bed. (Not that you’re complaining, because every mark is a reminder of him and how he can make your body feel). These marks are sometimes even joined with finger shaped bruises - specifically on your hips and your lower back.

And you pulling on his hair? He loves it, especially when you use the action to guide his mouth to where you want it most. He’s not afraid to pull on yours either, but if there’s one thing Billy Russo wants, it’s to ensure that you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is, so gasps of pain and surprise are fine, but if he thinks he’s actually hurting you, he’ll lessen his grip immediately.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Good things come to those who wait, and Billy is a master at controlling his own body. Multiple rounds in one night are commonplace for the two of you, and though you’re unsure about whether or not that’s the case for the other women in his life, you aren’t complaining. His reputation precedes him, and you’ve heard the whispers in the bars and restaurants - even at the events that you go to - about his talents in bed… they’re all true. He doesn’t focus on emotions, but rather the body that’s directly in front of him, and by setting  his sights on what he wants and needs to you for you, he delays his own satisfaction. Once he’s inside of you, though, he alternates between controlled and unpredictable, and it all depends on what kind of mood he’s in. You asked him once how he’d learned himself (and the needs of his partners) so well (especially since many of them weren’t repeat encounters)  and with that single lock of hair falling across his eyes and a large grin on his face, he’d raised an eyebrow and given you a one word response: “Practice.”

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

He does not use toys, but it’s not because he has no interest. It’s because he needs to keep his reputation up, and he needs to ensure that people remember him for what he can do and what he can offer... not what he needs help with. If he’s only going to fuck someone once, he wants to ensure that he’s providing the pleasure, that he’s what his bedmate is thinking of. For people that he’s with more than once, though? He’s fascinated with the way that the body responds to outside stimulation, fascinated by being able to control what happens when this button is pressed, or that switch is flipped.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

With Billy, the teasing is all worth it because you know that (at least for now) the teasing is going to lead to sex, or a sexual act of some sort. Sometimes, like when you’re at dinner and he rests his hand on your thigh under the table, fingers slowly circling as they make their way closer and closer to your center before pulling away, him getting you off with his hand once - fast, efficient, his lips whispering filthy things into your ear - quick is better.

It’s the nights, though, when he spends hours antagonizing you - adjusting the zipper of his pants multiple times, putting his hands on his hips after unbuttoning his jacket and just staring at you, tongue poking out between his lips, running that same tongue out over his lower lip in the middle of conversations, his eyes blazing as he looks at you - that you know you’re in for a good night when he finally thinks you’ve had enough. The man himself is a tease, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he knows it… it’s all about finding the right ways to entice you and keep you waiting, lips parted in anticipation for him to tell you that it’s time to act on it.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

He’s not a screamer, but Billy’s vocal in bed. Yes, he grunts and moans with the best of them, his uneven breathing helping you to understand exactly what he’s feeling and doing and thinking… but it’s the things that he says to you in bed - no matter how quietly - that make all the difference. Whispered instructions - “Hands behind your head.” “Don’t even think about moving.” “Tell me how much you like that” - are often enough to get you soaking wet before he’s even touched you or entered you, and it’s all about the cadence of his voice and the way his accent comes through just a bit more when he’s aroused. And besides, you like his quiet moans better, when he whispers your name, lips trailing against the skin of your neck or your chest.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

Billy’s got a thing about his scars. Not the ones that he got in the group home - those, you don’t talk about or pay attention to, not after seeing the change in his eyes and the set of his jaw as he’d told you what happened - but the ones that he got overseas. Billy’s not one to wear his scars with a sense of pride; instead, he sees them as a source of frustration. Did he get hurt? Yes. Did he survive? Yes. Are the scars there whether he likes them or not? Yes. But they’re not him, and while they tell a story, they don’t tell his story. He doesn’t see the scars as a part of himself, instead as almost a separate entity; Billy Russo’s war wounds could belong to an entirely different person and he’d be perfectly fine with it. He wants to be looked at  and admired for what he has accomplished, what he can provide, what he is capable of in the future, not what has happened to him without his permission or control.

That’s where you come in. A few months after you’d started seeing Billy - roughly 5 weeks after you’d started sleeping with him on and off, you’d been having a conversation about something entirely different when he’d interrupted. “Whadya think of my scars?” Cocking his head to the side, he’d focused his eyes on you, his fingers toying with the glass he held in his hands. “You’ve seen ‘em all, what do you think of them?” Frowning at him, you thought for a moment.

“What do you mean, what do I think of them?”

“Do they turn you on? Me bein’ a survivor of war, comin’ back here with imperfections?” Imperfections? It’s a scar, not a missing limb. “A lot of the other women, they’ve focused on the scars, you know?” He shook his head, a bitter tone entering his voice. “They pay special attention to ‘em, run their fingers over them, say ‘Oh, Billy. You’re a hero.’” He shook his head again, finishing his drink. “What do you think of them.” Your heart was beating quickly, but you didn’t have time to think because the longer you waited, the more you knew he was going to question your answer.

“I don’t think of them.” His eyes widened, and he leaned closer to you. “They’re there, sure.... But everyone’s got scars, Billy. You could have gotten them from falling out of a window or getting into a bike accident, or whatever. You just happened to get yours some other way.” Reaching out, you motioned for him to put the glass down before you climbed onto his lap, resting on his knees and facing him. Show him. “There are plenty of other parts of your body that I’d rather run my fingers over,” you said as you lowered your hand to the zipper of his jeans, rubbing him through the material. “There are plenty of other things I’d rather focus on.” His eyes had darkened. “You went through a lot of shit, Billy… and I’m sure you’ll end up with more scars in the future, you’re gonna go back ...over there eventually.” I don’t want to think about that. “But I’d like you just the same with or without them, I’m indifferent.”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his jaw, kissing your way along it toward his ear and then dragging your tongue along the skin there, feeling him swallow beneath it as you lowered your head, tongue still out and tracing a line against his skin.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, and as you pulled back, you shook your head. “Why are you - “

“Lift your arms, and I’m going to take your shirt off and show you every other area of your body that I care about more than those damn scars.” He inhaled sharply, but lifted his arms, allowing you to pull his t-shirt up and off. Throwing it to the side, you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss beneath his right eye. “This birthmark.” A kiss to the corner of his left eye. “The way your skin crinkles right here when you laugh or smile.” Your lips found the tip of his nose. “The way your nose wrinkles.” This is too much, it’s going to scare him off. You aren’t together, you’re just fucking, it’s… friends, with benefits, without clothes a lot… But you couldn’t stop, your lips moving to his to kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth for long moments before you pulled back, sliding backwards on his legs and pushing him to lean back against the couch.

By the time your tongue slid across his abdomen, you were kneeling on the ground in front of him, hands working at the button of his jeans. I’d lick every inch of him if he’d let me. “You don’t gotta… what… God. Don’t stop that.” His jeans were undone and pulled down around his thighs along with his boxer briefs, and you looked up at him, smirking, fingers wrapped around him as you moved your hand up and down slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Got any other silly questions, Russo?” He shook his head and the word “no” tumbled out of his mouth while something much more substantial found its way into yours.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off

Starting from the top down, Billy Russo looks like he was carved from marble: he’s a masterpiece. His body is long and lean - muscled in all of the right places. Though he isn’t bulky, he’s strong, capable of handling his own in a fight. He keeps in shape - drinking a ton of water to keep his skin clear, and he’s a runner. He says that it’s to keep his legs strong, but you know that it’s also to allow him time to think to himself, putting his headphones in an losing himself on a treadmill for an hour or making his way through Central Park when the weather is nice.

He’s gorgeous to look at - head to toe - and he knows it. The first time you got a glimpse of his bare ass, watching as he stepped away from the bed to get you something to drink you couldn’t help but smile, the subtle curve of the muscle illuminated in the moonlight, and it made you want to reach out and grab it, running your hands all over it and digging your fingers into it. His skin is smooth and perfect, pale (except when he’s deployed, and has spent long hours in the sun and wind) and supple; he takes care of himself, since he’s got a lot of pride in his personal appearance.

But between his legs? Billy’s slightly above average; about seven inches fully erect and just thick enough to make things feel a little uncomfortable (but so damn good), especially if it’s been a while since he’s been inside you. He’s definitely more than a handful for you - and even for himself, but it’s a sight to behold when he’s running his own fingers along his length, laying in bed and looking up at you while you watch. He keeps himself well groomed all over; though there’s hair on his arms and legs, he cleans up below the belt because he knows that A) it makes him look bigger B) It’s more comfortable  for him… and C) because he loves the feeling of your nails and mouth against his almost bare skin.

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

Billy’s got a high sex drive, but it’s not really a need - it’s more of a want. Billy can go long periods of time without having sex, but why should he? Sex is a good way to release tension for him, to put the day (week, month, year) behind him and focus on something good and enjoyable for a period of time. While he likes knowing that he could have someone 7 days a week in his bed if he wanted, there’s not always time for that - nor does he want to worry about the implications of having someone around that often. Ideally, since he’s unwilling to be in a committed relationship, refuses quality over quantity, Billy would have a new woman each week… but since you met him, he’s slowed things down a bit, and has even found fault with some of his dates. Things that normally wouldn’t have bothered him became irritating, and he found that while sex was sex, the idea of having an actual conversation with a woman to get to that point was almost unthinkable.

In the seven weeks between meeting you and sleeping with you for the first time, Billy had been out with six different “new” women, and only two of them had ended with sex. All of them had been willing - especially the one that you’d met - but he hadn’t found it in him to consummate the dates. Sure, he’d called two of his old hookups and had had them over, but sex four nights out of seven weeks? That’s how he’d known you were a little different than the others

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

Billy’s so goddamn thorough in bed that you have no idea how long it takes him to fall asleep because once he’s done with you, you can barely keep your eyes open. He doesn’t sleep much, but he sleeps hard… so you’d imagine that he nods off pretty quickly once he’s had his way with you.

* * * * * * * *

D = Dirty Secret (Bonus, from another NSFW Alphabet list)

(Written specifically for @ooo-barff-ooo)

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Billy Russo drunk, and you knew that it wouldn’t be the last, but there was a difference between drunk and blackout drunk. A random Wednesday in April, he’d called you and asked you to come out with him, and you’d agreed, even though you hadn’t heard from him in over a week. You’re not a couple, remember that.  Meeting him at the bar, you’d immediately started drinking - and Billy was drinking to get wasted. After the first few rounds, you’d started pacing yourself, knowing that you’d have to get him back to his place… somewhere that you hadn’t yet been in the six weeks since you’d first met him.

Two hours later, Billy could barely stand, and you’d called for a car to come pick you up after convincing him to let you take him home. “Oh, you’re gonna take me home?” You nodded, slipping your arm around his waist to help him walk to the door.

“I am. I’m going to take care of you, Billy Russo.” He smiled at you, and it was such a genuine smile that you were stunned. He’d never looked at you that way before, and it was a refreshing change of pace, since he spent so much time trying to keep his walls up around you. The car ride to his home was uneventful, and he’d actually been able to help you by walking through the lobby to his elevator, your arm around his waist and his around your shoulders.

He leaned his head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, eyes closed. “I hate today.” You frowned, but didn’t question it, instead focusing on the floor numbers lighting up, followed by helping him to his door and unlocking it for him. He stumbled inside, bracing himself on the small table in the dining room for a minute, his head hanging down. “Can you get me some water, please? I need to lay down.”

He went into his room without turning the lights on, and you followed after him, a large cup of cold water in your hands. He was laying back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge and he’d managed to remove his shirt but not his boots. “Hey, you.” He groaned. “I got your water, can you sit up and drink it?” He slowly complied, swaying as he took the cup from your hands and you knelt on the floor in front of him, unlacing the boots and pulling them off of his feet, one by one. You heard the cup clatter to the floor next to you and jumped back in case there was still liquid in it, but he’d finished it all. “Socks on or off?”

He mumbled the word “off” and you pulled them from his feet, lifting his legs one by one onto the bed so that he could stretch out. Shirtless Billy Russo in bed in front of me, oh man. Pulling the spare blanket from beneath his legs, you draped it loosely over his body and then walked back to the head of the bed, leaning down. “Hey, Billy?” His breathing had evened out, and you weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. “‘I’m gonna go, OK?” He didn’t respond, and before you could help yourself you leaned down, kissing his cheek. As you stood, you saw in the glow of the streetlight that he was smiling.

“You don’t gotta go.” He opened his eyes, and they were clear - and filled with longing. “Stay.” What’s the harm in that? You nodded and he shut his eyes again. After pulling your hoodie and shoes off, you circled the bed and climbed in next to him, using the comforter that he was laying on top of to cover yourself. “Hey.” He rolled toward you, his eyes still closed. “Hey, I gotta tell you something, OK?” He licked his lips and tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but couldn’t.

“Hey, Billy, it’s fine, just tell me tomorrow.” After you get pissed that I’m here in the first place and saw you like this. “Just get some sleep.”

“No, I gotta tell you why I hate today.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it. “I gotta tell you because I need you to know. You’re my friend and I need you to…” Billy’s behavior wasn’t that of the man that you’d grown to know, it was more like that of a teenager. “C’mere.” He reached out with one arm, pulling you closer, and even drunk, you felt the strength in his grip. I’ll allow it. Your foreheads were close together, his breathing hard. “I hate today because it’s the day that I got my heart stomped on by my girlfriend.”

Of all the things that he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. “Billy…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say. He took a breath and opened his eyes, staring into yours.

“I never told anyone this before.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was fifteen, almost sixteen and she was my age. We...we met in the group home where I lived,and were together for seven months.” He was slurring somewhat, but his words were mostly clear. “We decided to… be together one night and I was so nervous, I’d never...but she had... “ he mumbled a few words. “And so…” Billy swallowed. “I finished before I was even all the way in, I couldn’t help it.” Your eyes widened, and Billy opened his again - they were filled with anguish, even through the inebriation. “She told everyone. She told everyone and they all made fun of me, they called me “Billy Blows It”.

He just told me something real. Your heart was pounding and Billy was silent, but his eyes were still screwed shut. “Billy.” Your response was quiet, and you moved so that you could speak directly into his ear, wanting to be sure he heard you. “Billy, she wouldn’t know what hit her now.” He chuckled but you could hear the pain in the noise. “I bet that’s never happened to you again, either.” He agreed with you, and as you laid back down, you saw that his face had smoothed out, his breathing even again. He won’t remember this in the morning.

A few minutes later, he started snoring softly, his arm still around your waist. Laying there, in the dark, you took a deep breath and reached up, stroking your fingers against his cheek and through his hair - if he remembered it, remembered your touch or your tenderness, or what he’d told you, you could just deny it when the two of you woke up… after all, you had the upper hand for once.

[writtingsofspn]

I’ve got your back

Request: could you do an x reader where the reader is a young teenage girl who’s a bad ass solo hunter. In the hunters world there’s been talk about a solo hunter who is one of the best hunters of the century and sam and dean put two and two together and she saves their ass.

Pairings: Platonic all around

Warnings: Swearing probably but nothing more

A/N: As always feedback is very much appreciated. Also running low on requests so if you have any send ‘em my way!

You took a step out of the bathroom, breathing icy cold air for the first time in what felt like hours after having steamed up the bathroom with a shower that you had hoped would clear your head from the case. But of course it didn’t, you have been doing this long enough to not be surprised by that. Nothing quite took the edge off of a case for a few hours like being unconscious, if only it were easier to get to that state.

You threw your towel onto a nearby chair and put on some pajamas, grabbing a gun and checking through the blinds one last time, an unfortunate habit that had saved your life on more than one occasion.

You hadn’t expected to see anyone out there, you haven’t been on this case long enough to draw attention to yourself. But instead you were greeted with the sight of a grown man admiring your car parked just outside the window. Normally you wouldn’t have done anything about it but given that it was nearly midnight you felt you had reason to be suspicious.

Cautiously, you tucked your gun into the waistband of your pants and walked outside, clearing your throat loudly to catch the attention of the man “Can I help you with something?”

“Do you know who’s car this is” The man asked, tossing a quick glance in your direction before directing his gaze back to your car. A car you were rather proud and protective of.

“Mine” You answered simply, crossing your arms over your chest.

At this the man turned towards you with furrowed brows “Are you even old enough to drive that thing?”

You felt your jaw clench and your hands ball up into fists, beyond sick of jokes about your age. You hear enough of them in the hunting community you did not need it from some rando standing outside your hotel room. “That thing is a souped-up off road volvo and I recommend you show it, as well as it’s owner, some respect.”

“Get your Dad out here and I will”

“bold of you to assume it’s a man’s car” You could feel yourself smirk at him “not only do you blatantly ignore me when I tell you it’s my car but you automatically assume it’s a man’s car”

“No-I-uh-that’s not” You already had his stuttering, you fought off a smile as you tried to keep a straight face.

“Let me guess it’s cause women can’t be interested in cars” You prodded him further “no that’s a man’s job of course”

“Shut up”

“How eloquent”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of breaking the tension, knowing he had nothing else to say.

“Just tell your parents I like their car” He muttered before turning around and heading for the door right next to your own.

“Just me here asshole” You muttered before walking into your own room, slamming the door a bit harder than you probably should have.

-

“You got into a fight…with a little girl”

“Well I wouldn’t call her a little girl…”

Sam stared at his brother with raised eyebrows, silently waiting for him to continue the story, he desperately needed to defend himself better than this.

“She had to have been at least old enough to drive a car”

“That still doesn’t explain why you decided to pick a fight with her… in a motel parking lot… at midnight”

“Well if you say it like that it sounds ridiculous” Dean mumbled as he aggressively shoved hash browns into his mouth.

“Ok then how would you describe it?”

“…can we just focus on the case”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at his brother. Enjoying the picture of him getting his ass handed to him by a teenage girl in his mind.

“Police found a twelve year old boy ripped to shreds. They’re thinking it’s some animal in the woods.”

“Werewolf?” Dean asked.

“That’s what I’m thinking” Sam nodded as he pulled out his phone scrolling through the articles he had saved on it “but he’s not the first victim. My guts saying there are more than one of them”

“Great” Dean grunted, silently flagging down the waitress for another cup of coffee.

“We could always ask for help” Sam mused, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“From who?”

“Rumer has it that the nightingale is around here” Sam shrugged “We could give her a call”

“We’re not asking help from a hunter who doesn’t exist.”

“What makes you think she doesn’t exist?”

“Have you heard the stories?” Dean all but laughed “They’re ridiculous, there’s no way anyone is that good let alone some teenage girl”

“Considering you just got your ass kicked by one I wouldn’t be putting them down like that” Sam muttered, ignoring the glare Dean shot him. “Besides legends have to start somewhere. Maybe the stories aren’t 100% true but that doesn’t mean she’s not an amazing hunter”

“Regardless we can handle this we don’t need someone tacky enough to have the tagline ‘greatest hunter in a century’”

“you’re just jealous you don’t have it”

-

You hated research enough as it was, but being unable to gather it directly from the source made it so much worse. No matter how much makeup and pantsuits you put on you could never convince anyone you were someone of enough authority to give information to. Most assumed you were a kid playing dress up.

That didn’t mean you were through trying though. You were fixing bright red lipstick in the rearview mirror of your car parked outside of the police station. FBI badge ready in your pocket and lock picking kit in another one, you were prepared for any situation.

You kicked open your door and slid into heels that had no business being as high as they were when you stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing a certain light brown-haired man walking into the station in a cheap suit. Immediately you were running up behind him, heels in hand slipping them on just before you came into the building and planting yourself on a bench before anyone could notice you.

“Hi I’m agent Smith and this is agent Smith” The man introduced him and the tall man standing next to him, each flipping out FBI badges that looked remarkably like your own. “We’d like to talk to someone about the recent death of a twelve-year-old boy”

Immediately you put your head in your hands, doing your best to disguise yourself as a kid who got in trouble as the two men were led down a hallway to the chief. So they were here on the same case as you were. Your gut said they were hunters too, there wasn’t really a reason for the FBI to be here, but you sure as hell weren’t ready to take that risk.

You made quick glances around the lobby, careful to make sure the secretary wasn’t paying attention to you before you slipped down the hallway after the two agents, stopping in front of the chief’s door and pressing your ear to the wall, glad to know you could hear all that was going on within the room.

Eagerly you began taking notes, scribbling answers to all of the agents questions quickly before having to run off down the hallway at the sound of footsteps being taken in your direction from the room. Planting yourself back on the bench just in time for the three men to exit the chief’s office.

“I assure you gentleman your help is not needed, we have this all under control” The chief said as politely as possible, obviously having no clue how untrue that sentence really was.

“we just go where the burro tells us to, this is more a formality than anything” The man you had fought with tried to calm the chief, assuring him he was still top dog in his town before he made a move for the door, stopping as soon as he made eye contact with you, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too” You grunted, happy to see a smirk appear on the taller man’s face. “I’m Y/N”, you introduced yourself to him, already deciding you liked him better.

“Sam” The man shook your hand with smile much to his partners displeasure.

“Is there anything I can help you with little lady?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the chief’s nickname, putting on your best fake smile.

“No actually I already got what I needed. Thank you though”

“Well can we give you a ride back to the motel” Sam offered

“No thanks I have my car here” You smirked at his partner.

“Alright well if you need anything” Sam continued hesitantly “I hear we’re neighbors so don’t hesitate to come over”

“Thanks” You smiled at him before following the two of them outside. Feeling Sam’s partners eyes on you as you got into your car and pulled out of the lot.

-

The agents conversation had been a gold mine, so paired with the statements you got from the victims families, who thank god did actually talk with you, you had a good idea where the werewolves were hiding out.

You figured you could take care of them tonight and head out in the morning, word was there were some hunters who could be in need of some help just a few hours north of here.

A knock at your door startled you but you didn’t think twice before answering, almost figuring it was a pizza you had forgotten you’d ordered. Instead you found standing the two agent smiths standing there.

“Oh-uh-hey” You greeted them opening the door wide enough to show the rest of your body, not even thinking about the gun exposed in your holster on your thigh.

Sam’s partner, however, didn’t miss it, immediately drawing one of his own and pointing it right at you sending your hand to the handle of your own gun.

“Dude” Sam hissed, grabbing his partner by the elbow and pulling him into your room and shutting the door quickly.

“Why do you have a gun?” His partner demanded, dropping the aim slightly as he saw you weren’t going to point yours back at him.

“I’m a teenage girl alone in a motel room. I’d like a litter security” You lied easily, Afterall it was practically in your job description,

“What about all of this?” Sam asked pointing at a table covered in your research, god you were getting sloppy.

You paused for a moment, less prepared for this question “The latest victim, Trevor, he was a friend of mine”

You could tell neither of these answers flew well with the agents as Sam’s partner kept his gun trained on you.

“Look-“ You started to explain, ready to tell them you didn’t want any trouble and ask them to leave when Sam interrupted you.

“nightingale” He all but whispered, as if he were more explaining the situation to himself than you.

“Your hunters” It clicked as you dropped your hand from your gun.

“No way you’re the nightingale” Sam’s partner shook his head.

“In the flesh” You assured him with a slight smirk “and if you’re Sam then you’re Dean? Winchesters?”

“You know who we are?” Dean asked, finally dropping his gun to the floor and tucking it away.

“Everyone knows about the two responsible for nearly destroying the world god knows how many times” You chuckled.

“Oh, that” Dean muttered.

“Never mind it tho” You brushed the topic off tuning back to business “I think I know where the wolves are hiding out, I was just heading there now”

“Alright just go let us grab out stuff and we’ll be ready” Sam shrugged making eye contact with his brother checking with him silenetly

“Oh no” You quickly interjected before they could move anywhere “I usually work alone, usually safer that way”

“It’s our case too” Dean objected “plus we think there’s quite a few of them out there you can’t take them all out yourself”

“Sure I can” You shrugged “not something I haven’t done before”

“But now you don’t have to” Sam jumped in “we’ll have your back”

You bit your lip, partners have never really gone well for you but these guys were Winchesters, apocalypses aside they were known to be good hunters, surely it couldn’t hurt.

“Alright but we’re taking my car”

“Fat chance” Dean laughed before walking out of your room before you could argue any further.

-

You hoped out of the impala as soon as it parked, you had to admit it was a nice car, had a good classic feel but pride wouldn’t allow you to ever say that out loud.

“How many silver bullets you got?” You asked, checking your own clip.

“Bout a clip each” Sam answered, checking his own quickly.

“Me too but I’ve got about a dozen knives as well”

“Knives?” Dean questioned looking at you skeptically.

“They’re easy to throw and silent” You shrugged, “going in guns blazing definitely isn’t the best move here”

Sam just nodded in response, looking up at the abandoned building. “front or back you think?”

“We’ve got the man power for both” You followed his gaze “As long as we’re quiet and pick them off one by one we should be fine”

Dean nodded at you and cocked his gun. Accepting a few knives from you as you passed them around.

“Hey” he started awkwardly as Sam began walking towards the building “I’m Dean by the way”

“Yeah…I know” you furrowed your brow.

“Yeah I just figured, you’re gonna have to trust me tonight, I should really introduce myself at least”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought, extending your hand “It’s nice to meet you Dean, I’m Y/N”

Dean gladly shook your hand with a small smile “We’ve got your back tonight Y/N”

“I know, I’ve got yours too”

Dean nodded with a grin before turning on his heels and heading with his brother to the back of the building. You took up position in the front, giving the brothers ten seconds before you slipped into the building.

Immediately you ducked behind a chest of sorts, throwing a knife at the first thing that turned the corner, hitting one between the eyes knocking it to the ground. You ran towards the body and pulled the knife out of its forehead and turning the corner, throwing knives quickly and easily.

Everything was going perfectly, you had to have gone through a handful of werewolves at least, when a loud gunshot startled you. Immediately howls and long toenails scratching on hardwood echoed through the house.

You swore under your breath and ran towards the gunshot, knowing that wasn’t a good a sign. You arrived in the back of the house to see Sam on the ground with a wolf snarling and gnashing its teeth above him, gun kicked somewhere across the room. With no hesitation you fired at the wolf, the beast slumping over immediately allowing Sam to simply throw him off.

“Where’s Dean?’

“Upstairs” Sam panted, pushing himself to his feet.

“This floor’s clear lets go” You said making your way to the stairs, Sam right on your heels.

You quickly made your way down the hallway, clearing each room as you walked by it. Stopping as soon as you saw Dean stuck in the same position you found Sam in earlier. Again you fired easily at the wolf, helping Dean to his feet as he pushed the body off of him.

“Are there any more?” You asked him as he caught his breath.

Dean shook his head “Not that I saw”

“Alright cool” You laughed “That was easy”

The brothers looked at you, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to recover from nearly dying “right, easy”

“Alright well…” You began, dusting off your hands “didn’t think I’d ever say this but I’m glad we teamed up.”

“Believe me we are too” Dean chuckled as he led you back down the stairs.

“Well…” Sam mumbled, running a hand through his hair “what if we made it a usual thing”

“What do you mean?” You asked, not wanting to jump to any conclusions.

‘We’ve got a place” Dean jumped in “A permanent place, no more motel rooms”

“You could even go back to school if you wanted” Sam finished giving you what you could only call puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t know” You answered honestly, playing awkwardly with your hands “I’ve been alone for so long you know, it’s what I’m used to”

“We’re just saying we make a good team” Dean tried to explain, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder “so just think about it alright”

“Alright” You nodded, getting into the back seat of the impala, your gut already telling you what you should do.

[criesblood]

; I’ve been working on some sub-verses and some AU verses for Mary, you can find them HERE ! Anyone is free to request them when you like a starter call or send me a meme, or plot with me! ooor honestly just toss them at me if you write me a starter! They include verses for Harry Potter, historical/legendary/epic settings, The Vampire Diaries/The Originals, The Hundred, Bates Motel, a college verse, The Following and a Heroes/Marvel/DC/etc verse. She is still Bloody Mary, the spirit, in all of them, but there are twists. I still want to have an OUAT verse, maybe a pirate verse and a few others, but these will come later.

The verses are under the cut for my own reference but if you wanna check them out you should go HERE because I have more pretty icons there and you should appreciate them haha!

v; slithering through mirrors (Hogwarts)

Mary Worthington was a 5th year Slytherin student at Hogwarts, but something had changed by the time 6th year started. Her friends and other students could tell something was off-- Mary was skipping a lot of classes and sometimes her eyes would spontaneously bleed. The professors didn’t acknowledge it or brushed it off, but they added a mysterious mirror to the Slytherin girls’ dormitory; they knew what happened. Mary kept it a secret from everybody else but the truth was she was dead now. Murdered during the summer between 5th and 6th year, her restless, vengeful spirit attached itself to a mirror. The magical energy surrounding Hogwarts helps her stay corporeal and out of the mirror (though she can still be summoned too), and the legend of Bloody Mary has yet to spread. Who killed her, how she died and the mythology behind the mirror, the summoning, the killing etc are exactly like in Mary’s main verse, but she is a born witch here; no demonic deals needed. Also note she is eternally sixteen in this verse, the only verse where she is underage.

v; the legend of the dead witch (historical) 

Not a fandom-specific verse but geared toward anything that as a mythological, legendary, epic, historical or fairytale vibe. Mary Worthington was a well known powerful witch, who traveled between kingdoms and used her abilities to help others, often staying in kingly courts or powerful covens. She gained her magic not through a demonic deal but through a deal with one of the Fae, a member of the Seelie Court (the fae’s identity is thread-dependent!), who favored Mary due to her open heart and closeness with nature. Her powers are mostly relating to working with the elements, healing, glamours and of course using herbs, but can wander into darker territories if necessary. Her fame granted her many admirers but not all were convinced; some feared and were threatened by anyone who possessed magic. It was one such man who wounded her with iron (a weakness inherited from her Fae patron) and murdered her while her magic was bound. He gouged out her eyes and she tried to write a blood spell on the mirror, but couldn’t finish it before succumbing to her injuries. Perhaps it was a combination of the Fae folk watching over her, her half-done ritual on the mirror and the anger and trauma of the murder that brought her back to life, as the vengeful ghost of Bloody Mary (the summoning/killing rules are the same as in her main verse!). But instead of fading into being thought of as a myth, she made sure everyone knew she was still around, murdering those that kept murderous secrets and even innocents if they didn’t summon her correctly. She maintained her presence on the courts and covens, still trying to use her powers for good whenever she could, and her fame only grew.

v; blood sacrifices (TVD/TO)

When a witch dies with vampire blood in her system, she loses her magic and ceases being a witch; everyone knows that. But what happens if a soul that is to become a restless, vengeful spirit has vampire blood inside her upon her death? Something weird, and Bloody Mary is proof of it. Her backstory in this verse is the same as her main verse, up until the murder and attempt to write the killer’s name on a mirror. She died and was brought back to life because of the vampire blood in her system, given to her by a friend who knew a killer was after her. Mary didn’t want to live like that, so she refused to feed and died again, peacefully. That should’ve been the end, but the anger and trauma of the murder and the injustice that the murderer was never caught brought her back as the vengeful spirit known as Bloody Mary, same as the main verse. The difference is, something of the vampiric blood still affected her: she grew fangs and could sustain herself by drinking blood. Unlike a vampire, she doesn’t need to feed (she is still a ghost, after all), but whenever she’s out of the mirror, in corporeal form, she can increase the length of time she’s free by consuming the vital life energy contained in blood. Hearing that Mystic Falls and New Orleans are hotbeds of supernatural activity, she traveled to those locations in search of something that could free her from mirrors and end the curse of the bloody Mary once and for all. [Please note that her strengths and weaknesses remain that of a ghost, not a vampire. Her eyes flash red and fangs grow when she feeds and that’s about all the vampiric you get from her!]

v; space pocket mirror (The 100)

Mary Worthington was 21 when she lived on the Ark. There was a little girl she cared for like she was her own sister, and the girl got sick. Instead of a demonic deal for witchy powers like on her main verse, in this verse Mary’s solution was much more mundane. She stole antibiotics and saved the girl, but she got caught. Arrested, and floated. Her mother watched, and cried, clutching a pocket mirror Mary had given her as a way to remain close to her family in the afterlife. The last thing Mary saw as she drifted into space was this blinding light that hurt her eyes, and then she was dead. And then she was back--- kind of, thanks to the anger over her death sentence being unfair, and seeing her mother’s grief. Mary’s spirit was stuck inside the mirror now, bloody tears coming from her eyes, the only way to free her was with a surge of energy...which she didn’t know about. When The 100 were sent down to Earth, someone took the mirror too, unknowingly bringing Bloody Mary along for the ride and separating her from her family again. The violence freed her from her prison (the mirror/summoning rules are the same as her main verse) and a girl that lived her whole life in space has to learn to adapt to living on a nearly empty Earth, among nature and enemies.

v; the eyes are the windows to the soul (The Following)

I’ve yet to come across any muses from TF, but a girl can hope (this verse works well with any police investigation type of universe, anyway!) With Mary’s canon death involving her eyes being gouged out, and Joe Carroll’s canon MO being exactly that, the verse kind of wrote itself. Mary was a modern day witch, pursuing an English degree at Winslow University, Virginia, right around the time the Virginia Campus Murders started . Nobody suspected the rather well-liked (and Edgar Allan Poe obsessed, thus equating beauty with death) literature professor, Joe Carroll, of being a serial killer. Unfortunately for Mary, she fit his victim profile to a T, and he killed her. Drawing her last breaths, she wrote the letter J on a mirror, attempting to write the name of the killer, but she died before finishing. Several other female students would still be murdered before FBI agent Ryan Hardy apprehended Joe. The traumatic death and the anger at the injustice kept Mary’s spirit trapped in mirrors, and from that point on everything is the same as her main verse, with one addition: when the cult of Joe emerged she did her best to work with the police to find them, but only very few people within the task force knew one of Joe’s victims had returned as a ghost.

v; peering through a broken mirror (Bates Motel)

A sub-verse that is part of her main verse, started as a thing between me and ofwrittenschemes’ Norman but open to anyone that wants to interact within this setting! Everything is the same as the main verse up until two girls who are staying at the Bates Motel decide to play the Bloody Mary game, summoning Mary who has no choice but to kill them. Just as the now-corporeal ghost stepped out of the mirror, motel manager Norman came into the room and Mary had to quickly pretend that she was a victim too, the only survivor of a paranormal attack. Little does she know that Norman is hiding something too. Now Mary is staying in White Pine Bay, a small town with a history of crime, conspiracies and mob wars, and the pair have some crimes to cover up, some crimes to try and solve, and they have to decide whether to trust each other with their secrets or not. At least until Mary’s time is up and she’s swept back into the mirror.

v; haunted sorority house (college)

Also a sub-verse that is part of her main verse, meaning everything is the same up until she is summoned by some college boys playing the Bloody Mary game. They die, the energy lets her loose on campus, where curiosity and a desire to live a normal life make her decide to stay and blend in, pretending to be a student with an undeclared major. She even manages to rush a sorority, all while keeping her ghostly identity a secret from most.

v; vengeful vigilante (Heroes/DC/Marvel)

Also a sub-verse that is part of her main verse, meaning everything is the same up until the rise of superheroes and supervillains. The wave of vigilante crime fighting resonates with Mary, who decides to put her supernatural skills to good use whenever she’s out of the mirror and learns how to physically fight too. She finds those guilty of murder and gets them arrested or, sometimes, killed. Whenever she’s out crime fighting she wears black, ties her hair up and often times she’s crying blood; Mary doesn’t bother with a mask because she can’t be caught or found anyway--- she lives in mirrors and is a spirit that died centuries ago. She goes by Blood Tears, but many people refer to her as Bloody Mary because she ‘reminds them of the urban legend’, not realizing she is, in fact, the urban legend. They usually assume she’s some kind of metahuman/evo/mutant that can travel through mirrors and/or control blood. She’s not a hero, she’s an antihero who is not above murder and petty crimes if they help her stop other killers.

[susansbcnes]

SAM’S WANTED CONNECTIONS FOR IIDY ( 01 / ?? )

↳ SUSAN BONES’ (AND LEE JORDAN’S) SECOND YOUNGEST CHILD

Pictured above, possible faceclaims for this connection. Open to more faceclaim ideas, but the fc must be at least half Black.

QUICK LIL SUMMARY: This would be Susan’s third child, and the second youngest member of the family, but also the youngest playable one as their only younger sibling is fourteen years old. They would have to be in sixth or seventh year, and therefore be from sixteen to eighteen years old. Susan and Lee started having kids when they were quite young, though they used a surrogate and an egg donor (along with Lee’s sperm), since Susan was unable to conceive due to various health issues. Whether or not Lee and Susan are still together will be up to whoever ends up playing Lee, but what’s for sure is that they’re a close-knit family. Susan adores all her kids, and always, always puts them first. If you want more info about Susan herself, you can check out her intro right here.

For some character ideas (that you absolutely don’t have to follow, but that I created for fun(tm), check under the “read more”!

01. THE ACTIVIST.

I would love to see one of Susan and Lee’s kids follow in their parents’ footsteps. The seventh book may not have happened, but I’m sure in the same situation, Lee would still have created PotterWatch, and therefore, I feel like this spark for justice and rebellion from the establishment could have come from both parents? Although, if that doesn’t work with whoever ends up playing Lee, it can just come from Susan, of course. Basically, I’m picturing a kid of Susan’s who’s either really hot-tempered or really mellow, but who, either way, is always fighting for justice. With activist, hot-tempered and brash often comes to mind, and that’d be amazing, but I’d also LOVE to see a more mellow activist who no one suspects of fighting back even though they are. I picture this character either being in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, though it could be super interesting if you could make them work in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, too. Also, I definitely think they’d be part of McGonagall’s Army and S.P.E.W. Club, and I’m sure they’re always trying to convince their mother to let them into the Order even though they’re much too young. I could see Susan really worrying for this child, whilst also being immensely proud to see them fight for what is right. To be fair, Susan’s proud of all her kids, but... Yes.

02. THE ARTIST.

Oh, man. Susan adores art, but she sucks(tm) at making it, so it’d be so interesting to see one (or more) of her children being a talented artist. Any kind of art, really. From painting to piano, or from drawing to drums, I honestly don’t have a preference. Ways you could go with this is maybe a really politically involved artist? Maybe one who does graffiti to oppose the new regime at Hogwarts? Or who draws caricatures and other drawings denouncing what’s going on at Hogwarts? Oooooh, or maybe they create catchy beats with lyrics about how wrong everything is that they try to get as many people to sing as possible. Or MAYBE they’re super mellow, and chill, and hate what’s going on, yes, but have the mentality that, as a sixteen to eighteen years old, there’s nothing they can do yet, and they should keep their head down and wait until they’re better trained to oppose the bad guys. OR they’ve got their head in the clouds and are just... Not unaware of what’s going on, per se, but kind of lost about what to do. Anyway, Susan adores them, just like she adores all of her kids.

03. THE ATHLETE.

A quidditch player, first and foremost. They feel more at ease in the air than on the ground, and dream of becoming a professional quidditch player. I think it’d also be super interesting if they were fascinated by muggle sports and training, and tried to include some muggle aspects of athleticism when it comes to quidditch. Like maybe training more than just with a broom by doing yoga to practice their breathing, running around the pitch to keep in form, drinking Gatorade during games, etc. I’d love to see someone who’s head is 100% in the game, so much so that they may be unaware of what’s going on around them? That doesn’t have to be the case at all, but I think it could make for a very interesting character! Then again, a character with multiple interests is always fun, so that’s completely up to you! Susan’s not the best quidditch player and not the sport’s biggest fan, but she does like flying, and I feel like she’s always encouraged her kids with their passions, and therefore was probably at all of this character’s Junior Quidditch League game, cheering them on and bringing juice boxes for all the kids (from both teams) after the game.

04. MORE.

A double agent! And whether they’re truly sided with McGonagall’s Army or the Death Eaters is completely up to you, though if they’re sided with the Death Eaters, I feel like it would be because they’re forced to? Maybe being blackmailed into it, or their family being threatened?

A wanderer! Susan used to travel a lot, and I feel like she’d still try to travel with her kids as much as possible, and therefore she might have given that love of traveling and exploring to one or more of her kids? An adventurer, mayhaps? Or just someone who really, really loves to travel.

A class clown! Susan laughs easily, but it’d be cute if one of her kids managed to make her laugh harder than anyone else in the world. Maybe someone who’s always trying to find the light in a situation, and wants everyone to be happy? I don’t know; I think it could be really cute!

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Holiday secret Santa with the prompts "You have no idea what you do to me." And "you have to leave"

(I really really really really really really hope this is okay! Feel free to send more holiday suggestions! Think of this as taking place if they just kept the beautiful golden trio as agents and V-Day never happened because let’s be real - they would’ve been able to prevent it all.)

“Did you pick a name yet?” Eggsy asked, bumping shoulders with you. You glanced over at him with a smile, trying to balance the stack of papers in your hands.

“For Secret Santa? No,” you answered, turning towards the archive room. “Why, who’d you get?”

“I’m not telling,” he grinned.

“So I take it it’s not Charlie, then?”

He laughed, holding the door open for you. “Oh, I’d love to have gotten him. A whole box of glitter, with a note not to open it until he was home. I’d pay good money to see the look on his face when he realizes he’ll be coming to work with glitter stuck everywhere for years.”

“Don’t you think that’s a tad bit excessive?”

Eggsy stuck his hands in his pockets as he followed you around between the file cabinets.

“Nah. He’s excessive, I’d say it’s a fair trade for all the shit—”

“You busy for lunch today?”

You looked up at the interruption, recognizing the voice immediately. “Hi, Charlie,” you greeted. He stood half in the doorway and half out, clearly on his way somewhere else. Unlike Eggsy, you didn’t harbor the same level of disdain for his fellow agent. In fact, you’d even say you admired the man. It wasn’t hard to see why, as he cut a fine figure in the Kingsman suit, but today he’d gone without, instead opting for a simple dress shirt with rolled up sleeves to pair with some plain trousers. Maybe he had some work to do with Merlin.

He caught sight of Eggsy standing off to the side in the archive room, almost hiding behind you. “Lunch?” he repeated.

“Uh, sure, yeah, I’ll be done here in a minute,” you finally answered.

He smiled as he looked down at his feet. “Alright, I’ll wait for you out front.”

You offered a small nervous smile back as he turned around to leave.

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s probably after something.” You understood Eggsy didn’t like him, but it made you feel like he thought Charlie couldn’t possibly like you. It had to be something else.

“I think I’ll be alright, Eggsy, thank you.”

***

“So, how’s it been?” Charlie picked up his chopsticks, glancing up at you as he arranged them in his hand.

The restaurant had incredibly dim lighting, and the two of you had taken a booth in the corner, though still in view of the proper sushi bar that seemed a bit more popular with people alone on their breaks.

“It’s been…the same,” you shrugged. “Work is the same, outside of work is the same…”

“What, you don’t go out?”

“Not really, it’s not like I’ve got anyone inviting me unless it’s with a group of you guys.”

He nodded to himself.

“Not that I really want to go anywhere, I’ve got enough to do at home, but…”

“I can take you out, if you wanted,” he shrugged, like it was nothing.

You almost choked. After taking a sip of your tea, you glanced up at him to see he was very much watching your reaction. Fantastic. “O-okay, that could be…fun.”

“So who’d you draw for Secret Santa?”

Why did everyone care so much?

“I don’t know, I haven’t picked yet.”

“Maybe you’ll get me.”

You felt your face heat up a bit as you contemplated your next bite of food. “Maybe. What would you want, if I did?”

He waited a bit before answering. “Just a comfortable night off, really,” he admitted. “Though you’d probably have to work some magic to get that sort of thing out of Merlin.”

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think he’d go for it,” you laughed.

He joined in. “No, he wouldn’t. But I can dream, right?”

“I think we all dream of that.”

Some time passed before he spoke up again.

“And if I drew your name?”

“Why’s everyone so up in arms over this Secret Santa business? It’s all anyone’s talking about lately.”

“Well perhaps it’s because there’s probably quite a few of us who…don’t have anything better to do than to watch for the upcoming mess that will be the Kingsman holiday party. Depending on how this plays out, it’ll be either highly entertaining or entirely tame and predictable.” He shrugged as he ate his last piece of sushi. A sip of water followed before he spoke again. “It’s just something to gossip over, I suppose.”

“Eggsy said he’d gift you a box full of glitter,” you grinned, glancing up at him. “Tame and predictable, or highly entertaining?”

Charlie tried to keep his smile toned down, his lips pressing together firmly.

“And what if I got you and me both a night off, tame or…highly entertaining?”

Before you could attempt to string a sentence together in response, the waiter approached with the check. You were incredibly grateful for his timing. Though you offered to pay, Charlie didn’t hear any of it, just shooting you a smile as he took care of it.

You thought he might not have needed an answer to his question. It was probably written all over your face.

“Should we head back?” he suggested, getting to his feet.

“Before they wonder where we’ve gone, yeah,” you agreed.

“Oh, they always wonder where we’ve gone,” he grinned. He slung his coat over his shoulders before helping you with yours. As the two of you left the table, you didn’t miss his hand at the small of your back as he led you outside and back towards Savile Row.

***

You glanced down at the dish on Merlin’s desk before reaching in, something telling you that as much as you wanted to give Charlie that requested night off, you didn’t think you’d be lucky enough to draw his name.

“Go ahead, it’s nothing major,” Merlin joked, typing away on his computer.

“Who did you pick?”

“Oh, I always pick myself,” he answered, grinning. “No fuss. I know exactly what I like, and I just treat myself to a nice bottle of something and some rest.”

“Smart,” you replied, finally pulling out a small slip of paper.

“Don’t go crazy with it, sometimes you all forget there’s a set budget for this.”

“Right, sure thing, thanks Merlin.” You turned around and headed for the door, still not opening the paper. It shouldn’t matter, why did it matter? You walked down the dark wood paneled walls with it tucked safely in your hand.

Once you turned a corner, you finally let yourself look.

Agent Lancelot

Roxy. You weren’t upset, you got along well enough with Roxy… Oh, who are you fooling, your tentative plans and plots were tossed aside in an instant, you’re allowed to feel disappointed—

“Roxy?”

Your head shot up and you closed your hand.

“Oh, man. Tough, she is.”

You turned around and recognized the figure standing there as Tim, one of Merlin’s other technical staff. You worked in the same office as him, but you never went out of your way to start a conversation with him…and you weren’t too keen on starting one now.

“I was hoping you’d end up picking me—”

“Why would you want me to do that?”

He took a couple of steps closer, his smile turning into something slightly more predatory.

“Come on, you’re the best person to get. You’re so thoughtful…and quite pretty too, though you’ve been wasting it all on that Hesketh—”

“You need to leave. Now,” you warned.

“Just spend some time around a real man for once—”

“What did she say?” You let out a small sigh of relief. “Or do you need her to tell you again?”

Tim looked up, more than a little alarmed. “No harm done, mate, relax, we’re just having a private conversation, not everything requires your presence, man,” he said, waving Charlie off.

Before Tim could return to the much-too close conversation he thought he was having with you, a hand closed around his throat and Charlie forced him back against the wood paneling. There was a decidedly more frightened expression on his face now.

“Just ‘cause I pissed off your girl—” Charlie’s grip tightened.

“You will not make anyone uncomfortable with your slimy presence. Or you’ll answer to me, understand?”

Instead of coming up with another jab, Tim simply nodded. He was roughly dropped back down on his feet and he took a moment to rub at his neck where Charlie had held him. “Next time you need some gadget or another, go to someone else.”

“The contempt is mutual,” Charlie replied, watching him as he turned the corner and headed back toward the offices. Once he was out of sight and earshot, he turned back to you. “Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, he’s just…” you made a face that said it all. Charlie grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“What were you doing on this side of…did you come from Merlin’s?” His eyes lit up as he mentally traced your path. “Who did you get, did you—”

“Not you,” you interrupted, sighing.

He looked you over, taking in your disappointment. “Don’t tell me you got him—”

“No, thank god. I’d have shredded it by now.”

He chuckled as he watched you, his attention 100% focused on you. It was mildly unnerving but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“So…?”

“I got Lancelot,” you finally said.

“Roxy?”

You caught him grinning.

“What?” He didn’t answer, though there was a cautious amusement in his eyes like he was waiting to see how you felt about it. “I’m sure she’ll be easy enough,” you added.

“Watch out, she’s like a shark. She’ll sniff out that you’re hunting for gift ideas from a mile away.” Well that wouldn’t help things. “Just get her a giant bag of jellybeans, it’s her only vice.”

“Wait, jellybeans?”

Charlie nodded. “Mmhmm, keeps a handful tucked away while on missions. Says it’s a substitute for gum or something, keeps her focused, but really she just loves the things and can’t reasonably admit it.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” you grinned. If this was true you knew just where to go.

“I’ve still got some investigating to do myself.”

“Well, you’re really good at that.”

“I suppose. Well, I’ve got to disappear for a bit, let me know how your search for connoisseur jelly beans goes,” he announced, taking a few steps backwards before turning around completely and ducking into Merlin’s office. The door shut not long after.

Why was it that every time you saw him you were left feeling completely disarmed? You pocketed the slip of paper and headed back to your desk, hoping not to encounter Tim along the way.

***

“Um, what do you think?” you glanced up at Charlie to get a read on what he thought of the flavors on offer.

“Champagne is a must, I think. I’d say a little of everything, to be safe. I think it’s the thought that counts with her,” he shrugged. “They’ve got a nice big set over here,” he pointed.

“Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll just do that then—”

“What brings you two here?”

Oh no. Caught.

Roxy stood there, looking perfect as usual in her Kingsman suit, a bag over her arm, and an open cellophane bag of loose jellybeans in her hand, just like Charlie said.

“Hey, Rox. Just finishing up my list, picking out a few sweets for my niece—”

“Nice cover. See you two tomorrow?” After she got no immediate response, she clarified. “At the party?”

You were finally able to speak again. “Oh, yeah, definitely, wouldn’t miss it.”

Roxy smiled at the two of you, glancing between you both. “Are you—”

“Can it, Rox,” Charlie warned. You quickly averted your eyes, hoping your face didn’t betray your thoughts.

“Chill, Hesketh, no need for the hostility,” Roxy teased, a smile spreading across her face. “Enjoy the rest of your…shopping trip.”

Charlie rolled his eyes at Roxy’s extremely amused expression. She turned around and walked out of the store, risking a glance back at you two over her shoulder before she was out of sight.

“She’s so intense,” you finally spoke up, hoping to distract him from whatever he was thinking about as he stared at the display case.

“Intense is one way of putting it.” He seemed a bit dismissive, and you wondered what on earth could’ve bothered him so much in the span of a few seconds. You weren’t about to ask, though.

“So who did you get?”

He shook his head, turning away from the case. “You’ll not get that out of me,” he replied, smiling again.

“You know I’ve got Roxy,” you argued. “Come on, is it me?” He tried to walk past you, but you pressed your hands against his chest. “Tell me,” you pleaded.

He covered your hands with his as if he were intending on removing them, but he didn’t. He kept his eyes on you as the silence between you grew.

“I’ll only tell you if…”

You were suddenly forced into Charlie’s chest as someone backed into you. His arms wrapped around you so you didn’t fall, and as you looked up at him you wondered just how soft his lips were—

“Watch where you’re going,” Charlie sighed.

“I‘m so sorry!”

The person quickly moved away but Charlie was still watching them. You reached up and pulled his face down so he’d look at you instead.

“Charlie, it’s really not a big deal, I swear I won’t tell—”

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me…”

Oh?

“What?”

A small vibration coming from his watch forced him to look away, his hands dropping to investigate whatever message had been sent his way.

“Shit,” he mumbled. He looked up with an apologetic frown. “I’ve got to go. Will you be fine here on your own? Merlin’s calling me in and I’m not sure—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He smiled, looking down at you, watch still flashing a faint green tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, at the party.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. At least he couldn’t detect how your pulse skyrocketed.

“Bye!” he called out as he speed-walked towards the exit.

“Bye,” you returned, though you doubted he heard you.

You couldn’t help but imagine just how couple-y that looked from the outside. If only.

You looked down at the bags you were carrying and sighed. You could shop for everyone else on a different day.

***

“Excited for the party?” You moved around the long table off to the side of the cleared-out meeting room, beginning to lay out decorations at Merlin’s request. He seemed content to sit back and focus on preparing debriefs and compiling reports as opposed to setting up for the holiday party.

You glanced over at Emma, another of Merlin’s technical staff. You hadn’t spent much time around her to know what she was like, but like you, she’d been roped into setting things up by Merlin. She was currently handling the logistics of the various snacks and things arriving. You were content with the decorating.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you commented, smoothing out the tablecloth.

“I would’ve thought you’d be more excited, what with two boys fighting over you?”

“Where on earth did you hear that?”

“I didn’t have to hear it, I saw it. It’s why Tim wasn’t in today.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”

Emma settled in, leaning back against the table as you worked, ready to spill a lovely bit of gossip. “Tim went to Merlin after some sort of altercation with Charlie yesterday, and I suppose this morning he made the mistake of making some idiotic comment to Charlie on their way in the shop.” You sighed and rested your hands on the edge of the table. “Something stupid enough to get himself beat up over. Who’s dumb enough to provoke one of the agents?”

“Sounds like him,” you answered, even though you knew the question was rhetorical.

“So, Charlie, eh? He’s got that soft look about him but there’s an edge to him too. I’m sure there’s some aggression waiting under there for just the right moment—”

“Hello, ladies,” Merlin greeted, probably choosing the best possible moment to interrupt the conversation. You shot a look his way that you hoped conveyed just how grateful you were. “Just wanted to remind you two that the party starts promptly at seven as I’ll need everyone out by eleven at the latest. As it stands, I’ll end up letting you go around five to get ready so,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s get a move on, eh?”

The two of you nodded, and you turned and began hanging garland as if your life depended on it.

***

“Need a drink?” You looked up, a smile already on your face after watching Eggsy tell a thrilling story about his latest brush with danger.

“Hi Charlie,” you greeted. He looked good. Really good. You held up your glass, still half-full. “I’m okay for now, thanks.” You tried not to focus on him, but that was next to impossible. You took a large sip of your drink as a temporary distraction. “On second thought…”

He laughed. “Right, how about you finish that off and I’ll exchange it for another of the same?”

You nodded, sipping on it until it was only ice. He reached for it, but you pulled it away. “No, I’ll go with you.”

He paused, but his smile grew. “Alright then, miss. Let’s go.” He took your arm and looped it through his, glancing down at you every so often as the pair of you walked through other gathered Kingsman employees to the bar.

“You did a good job decorating,” he commented.

“How did you know?”

He shrugged. “It just looked like…you.”

“Well that’s great because I haven’t done a single thing at home,” you laughed.

“You can come decorate mine, if you want.”

“Charlie Hesketh, what are you implying?” You poked at his shoulder.

“Not a thing,” he grinned, his cheeks a bit pink, or was it the light?

You let go of his arm as you reached the bar, choosing to lean on it beside him instead. “So I heard about our friend Tim courtesy of my decorating buddy today. What happened?”

“What a waste of space,” he sighed. “He said something, and I just had to…” He trailed off as the drinks arrived. Charlie poked at his before taking a sip. You watched for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“What did he say?”

Charlie just shook his head. That only made you more concerned.

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t merit repeating,” he insisted. He glanced over at you and forced a smile. “He got his just rewards.”

“I never thought you’d punch someone on account of me,” you joked, leaning against his shoulder. “How’s your hand?”

He held it out, flexing it. You grabbed it, realizing (not for the first time) just how large his hands were. There was some slight color around his first and second knuckles but otherwise he was alright.

“It’s fine, but if you want to kiss my knuckles better I won’t stop you.”

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked, still holding his hand.

He shrugged, cheeks definitely flushed. “Not sure.”

“Alright then, for…defending my honor, I can do that.” You pulled his arm up a little and leaned down to gently press your lips to his knuckles. You heard a nervous laugh leave his throat. The idea that you could possibly make him feel anything close to how he made you feel on a regular basis caused you to smile widely as you let go of his hand. He looked almost bashful. You felt that hopeful feeling you kept at the back of your mind grow a little.

“Okay there, Charlie?”

He quickly straightened up as Roxy walked over and squeezed in between the two of you. “Hey Rox. Having a good time?”

“No, this is maddening. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Already?” Charlie joked. You smiled at them and looked down at your drink.

“Listen, here’s your thing, I really don’t want to get up and do it in front of everyone and all that, so…here.”

Charlie took the small box and looked up at Roxy with a smile. “Thanks so much, Rox.” He tugged the ribbon loose and pulled off the perfectly folded wrapping paper carefully, setting it on the bar. He opened the leather box and frowned. “Rox, this is…this is way too much, you shouldn’t have—”

“It’s too late, I did. Just…wear it out sometime? And don’t worry, I had Merlin take a look at it before all this, so…it should work just the same.”

“Roxy…thank you.” Charlie pulled Roxy in for a hug, though she was pushing back against him after only a few seconds.

“Alright, that’s enough from me, I’ll leave you to it.” She smiled over at you and narrowed her eyes. “And I’ll take my jellybeans now, but you have to swear not to tell a single soul about this.” You gave her the number you wrote on the label so she could go collect the assortment of flavors from the gift pile under the tree. “Thank you.” She pulled you in for a brief hug. “Make sure he follows up on his end of the bargain,” she whispered before leaving you and Charlie at the bar.

You turned back to Charlie and watched him pull out the very expensive watch, swapping it with the one he already had on. “It’s nice,” you commented, still a bit puzzled about what Roxy meant.

“It’s…stunning, I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“It looks nice on you.”

He looked down at you, his smile fading a little. “Want to go hunt down your gift?”

You glanced back down at your drink. “I don’t know. I’m kind of okay right here.”

“You sure?” He handed over a slip of paper, though it was quite worn at this point. You opened it up to see your name.

“Charlie, what—?”

He pulled a long, thin box out of his pocket and set it on the bar, his smile growing as he watched your reaction.

“Charlie, there was a limit,” you frowned, knowing at a glance what the box likely contained. Why he got something like that for you, you had no idea. Well, you had an inkling of a suspicion, but you couldn’t exactly verify it.

“Yes, because I’m such a stickler for the rules.” He sent a sly smile your way as he took a sip of his drink, waiting expectantly for you to open the gift.

“I was starting to wonder who would pick me,” you confessed. “Kind of glad it was you, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, it wasn’t, not at first. I did a little digging to find out who got your name, granted a few favors for a trade…”

“Why would you do all that?”

“Don’t be naive.”

You looked up at him in surprise.

“You have to have noticed by now that I don’t take everyone out, for lunch or…whatever.”

“Yeah, but how do I know that it’s not just you being friendly?”

“Have you ever seen me being ‘friendly’? I’m deadly serious. About everything.” He didn’t even crack a smile to put you more at ease. You glanced down at the slender box in your hands, feeling a lot of things falling into place. What Roxy said to you started to make a bit more sense.

“Charlie, I’m not sure what—”

“Open it.”

You looked down again at the box in your hands, hoping to hide your nervous shaking by tightening your grip. “You really shouldn’t have,” you mumbled as you pushed up the lid.

It was a necklace, one he’d caught you staring at in the window yesterday. You fought to keep your thoughts reined in, but it was incredibly difficult not to consider what all this meant.

“Charlie…”

“You’ve got no idea how long I’ve waited for you to make that first move. I always expected I’d scare you away—and I didn’t want to. But you had no idea, or perhaps…” His hands found yours and he took the box from you, setting it down on the bar. “…you didn’t want to let yourself consider it. So I’m just trying to tell you that I’m tired of waiting.”

“It’s against the rules—”

“Fuck the rules. Who cares about some archaic rule drafted by someone who didn’t understand a single thing about love, how it defies all of these things—”

“Hesketh, can I speak with you?” You felt a pit form in your stomach as Charlie turned around to reveal Merlin standing there.

You were left holding the gift as Charlie stormed off after Merlin.

You finished your drink and collected your gift, picking up Charlie’s box while you were at it so it didn’t get left behind as you abandoned the holiday party. Surely you’d just gotten him in a load of trouble. All your fault.

What did he mean? There wasn’t any hiding things from Merlin. He would’ve found out anyway. But you couldn’t wipe the grim smile off your face as you went through a whole mixture of emotions, standing outside in the cold.

About ten minutes passed as you wondered where you should go before the door opened behind you. “Leaving me?”

You didn’t turn to look, you knew who it was.

“No.”

He stopped beside you in the cold wind. “I’m sorry if I went too far there, I just had to say something…”

“You didn’t, but it got you in trouble. Maybe it’s best if we…don’t.”

“You really feel that way?”

As you stood there, coat pulled tightly around yourself, you knew exactly what you wanted…but you also knew you wouldn’t get to have it.

“If we can’t, what’s the point in torturing ourselves, Charlie?” You turned and looked up at him. “I mean, if this rule is actually enforced, you know Merlin knows already, I’m sure he told you to drop it, or something, it won’t be long before transfers me—”

“He won’t, we’ve discussed it.”

“But back there, when he pulled you away, I thought…”

“It was for something else,” he clarified. “Though he definitely didn’t appreciate my language—”

“You mean you let me worry for nothing? Charlie—”

Before you could continue to argue your point, you were pulled in close, his hands holding your face up towards him as he leaned down and finally kissed you properly. Your eyes fell closed as your hands pulled at his coat. His mouth, his breath, was so warm in comparison to everything else. You needed it everywhere, all at once—

“You couldn’t wait until you were home?”

You jumped away from Charlie at the sound of Eggsy’s voice. “Could you go be a pest somewhere else?” Charlie asked, his hands still on your face.

“Do I need to remind you it’s thanks to me you were able to get all this sorted—”

“No,” Charlie interrupted, his frown growing by the second.

“I’ll expect my coffee hot for the next month, and it better be made correctly—”

Charlie moved to charge towards Eggsy but he darted back inside the tailor shop. You reached up to pull at Charlie’s coat.

“You’re serious? Merlin…knows?”

“What, you think he doesn’t have anyone?” Charlie took the long box from your pocket and opened it, pulling the chain free. “We’ve all got to keep sane somehow.”

You stayed still as he circled behind you, looping the chain around your neck and fastening it. You turned around to face him, pulling at the pendant to straighten it out.

“What do you think?”

Instead of providing his opinion, he reached for your face again, walking you back until you were up against the stone surrounding the door to the dimly lit shop. “Charlie—!”

He silenced you with another kiss, only this time he wasn’t interrupted.

[shitfics]

"My date stood me up, can you come pick me up?" Jinkibum;; i'm glad you're back! 💚 And i hope you're better rn. I'm another one that have the notifs on because I really like your fics/prompts. Thank you for sharing what you write again ;;;;

Thank you so much bb!! That really warms my heart. ;-; And sorry this one is coming a bit late, it ended up longer than I thought it would and I’ve been real unfocused lately. Things are definitely better than they were, but they’re still a bit rougher than I realized. ^^; 

I hope you enjoy this!! (If you can’t tell, this is 100% inspired by the incredibles because I saw it the other weekend.)

-------

It takes a few dozen rings to get through.

“This is Kibum speaking.”

“My date stood me up. Can you come pick me up?”

The other end of the line crackles. “...Jinki? Is that you?”

“Yeah.” Jinki runs a looped finger around the ribbed wire of the payphone. “I’m at that breakfast dinner near the highway.”

“The one with the shitty coffee?”

He laughs. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line goes dead with a click. Jinki sets the phone back on the receiver and sighs. He knows Kibum will come for him, but he wishes hadn’t gotten into this situation. He should have given up on his date and taken the last bus.

But the stupid part of him -- the desperate part of him, if he’s honest with himself -- had to hope that maybe the other man was just late. So he’d stayed. And now he’s stuck on the opposite end of the city from his apartment.

He takes a seat against the side of the now-closed diner and lights a cigarette to pass the time.

The researchers that’d run tests on him back when heroes were above-ground had never told him if his freakish strength and sturdiness came with an immunity to the shit in them, but it’s not like he would’ve quit anyway. The habit is one of the few things about himself he can consider normal, and it’s hard not to be attached to that. Especially in recent years.

When he sees the dual headlights of Kibum’s bright blue car pulling into the parking, he stomps out the light and tosses the butt in a nearby trash can.

“Thanks for coming to get me. I know it’s late.”

“Don’t worry about it -- anything for an old friend.” Kibum smiles at him widely. When Jinki settles into his seat, he can see that Kibum isn’t clothed in his daring fashion -- instead of a tight-fitting dress-shirt, he’s clothed in a plain pink house robe, over a set of loose cotton pajama pants.

He feels a pang of guilt. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Of course not. You know I always draw at night.”

Jinki laughs. “Yeah.”

Kibum rolls out onto the street and enters the highway for the direction of Jinki’s apartment, already knowing where to go. The engine revs sharply as they gain speed -- Kibum’s flashy sports car really was something else -- but quickly settles into a steady rumble. It’s then that Kibum decides to speak again.

“Do you know why they stood you up?”

“I have a guess, since we met through a friend of a friend. He probably heard along the grapevine that I had powers.” Jinki sighs. “I swear, everyone gay in this city already knows...”

“It’s a small community. Things travel like that.”

“You’d still think at least one person wouldn’t care. It’s not like we’d have to worry about having children.”

Kibum snorts. “Don’t worry about it so much. You’re young and handsome; you’ll find someone.”

He turns to look at Kibum, expecting a follow-up joke. The lights over the highway give him only an intermittent and dim view of Kibum’s face, but Jinki can see his words were genuine.

He smiles slowly. “You think I’m handsome?”

“I’m just stating facts,” he says, hand tightening on the wheel. He glances at Jinki sidelong, then looks away quickly, back at the road. “...But I do, yeah.”

Jinki shifts in his seat, suddenly unsure what to say. He’d known Kibum liked men from the moment they met, and at first he’d been interested -- but he pushed that down when Kibum treated him with nothing more than professional distance.

Things had changed, though. Kibum knew his alterego -- had to, since it was the only legal identity he had anymore -- and they’d become friends. Why couldn’t that change again into something else?

The old warmth in his chest that would bloom when Kibum’s hands traveled over him to take measurements feels just in reach. He wants more of it again, and not just for nostalgia.

“Would you want to come up for a drink, once we’re back at my place? I splurged on some good whiskey recently.”

“I’m not stupid, Jinki. I know what you’re really asking.”

“I’m not good at being subtle, I know,” he says. “...But what do you say?”

Kibum finger taps rapidly against the leather cover of the wheel for a moment before he answers. “Look, if you’re just lonely--”

“I’m not,” Jinki says. “I was interested in you before.”

“You never seemed like it.”

“We met through a government program. You think I was going to make a move on you when there were agents there every time I tried on a new supersuit you made?”

“You have a point,” Kibum admits, lips pursed.

He brings his car to a stop in the lot of Jinki’s dingy apartment complex, and after shifting into park, stares at Jinki appraisingly. The light of a passing van travels over his face, and again, Jinki gets a brief insight into Kibum’s feelings -- there’s hope and want in his eyes, but his jaw is set with tension.

“If we do this, and it doesn’t work, I’m not sure how easy it’ll be for me to go back to being friends.” He licks his lips, clearly nervous. “I want to make sure you’re aware of that.”

“I’m willing to take that risk, if you are.”

Kibum’s mouth quirks, a bit of vulnerability falling away to be replaced with his usual confidence. “I drove across the city at two in the morning to just give you a ride home. How much more obvious can I make it that I’m willing to do stupid things for you?”

Jinki grins. He reaches a hand across the car and places it on Kibum’s thigh. “I can think of a few ways, maybe.”

Kibum peels it away, brow raised in amusement. He leans in towards Jinki, who closes his eyes, heart fluttering in anticipation for their first kiss -- only to feel breath against his lips as Kibum does nothing more than speak.

“You owe me that drink first.”

[valkyrie-echo]

Project Echo, Part 1: Chapter 1 (Seven Years Later)

Part 1 Summary: A long-buried Hydra disaster, a monster in the shadows, a missing child. Eight months after the events of “The Winter Soldier”, Bucky turns himself in to the Avengers on one condition: They must help him find a girl snatched off the streets by Hydra seven years ago. In their quest, the Avengers accidentally unleash a horrifying creature of darkness and shadow, intent on making their quarry its prey.

**This story only draws on “Avengers” movie canon through “Captain America: The Winter Soldier”.

[Edited 11/10/18]

Chapter 1: Seven Years Later

Gastineau Channel, Juneau, Alaska

It was a clear night- very rare for the normally rain-drenched Alaskan rainforest. 

The stars above twinkled in between ribbons of red auroras that snaked from horizon to horizon and cast an eerie glow over the world. To the left the small city of Juneau lay nestled between the ocean and mountains. On the right was Douglas Island, a space almost as large as Juneau and covered in enough trees to hide most signs of life.

Standing on the bridge, looking out over the sleepy bay with the Northern Lights bright above them, Steve Rogers and his friend Sam Wilson took in the sight without anything resembling an appreciative eye. 

The channel’s beauty was making their job infinitely harder.

"We can't go in by air, not with these lights. I'll be spotted before you're in range,” Sam said. His wings weren’t designed for swimming- not that he wanted to take on those frigid Alaska waters or the currents that raged beneath the surface. “We should wait and intercept the barge at another stop. Wait the solar activity will die down or the weather to turn and we'll have better cover. We don't have to rush it and do the job tonight." Thanks to the mountains rain was more common than clear skies.

"We've been through this already," Steve snapped. He immediately held up a hand and rubbed his eyes, "I'm sorry." They'd been running on minimum sleep and hard travels for months; fights were becoming all too common. He took a deep breath and tried again, "Just fly low and dump me near the ship, the lower you fly the more the ocean will camouflage you. I'll subdue the base and you come back when the screaming stops.”

They needed the new moon in six days for their next stop, and Steve wasn’t willing to wait another month if they missed it. He and Sam had to travel under the radar, meaning it would take every minute of those six days to get to San Francisco and the old Hydra base beneath Alcatraz.

In the channel, ready and waiting for them, was an old barge that ran wares to the coastal cities. According to the KGB file Natasha gave them on the Winter Soldier, ten of the containers on the barge formed a top-secret emergency medical facility that boasted a skeleton crew of three- four maximum. 

The facility was small, little more than a waystation, but Steve thought the chances were good they’d have a more up-to-date file than Natasha’s (which only covered Bucky’s movements up through the 1990s). Most of the locations in the KGB file were shut down when the USSR collapsed.

If they still had Bucky’s file, it could very well help end the eight-month search.

Sam sighed and double-checked the straps on his wing unit, "You really think he went back to Hydra?"

Steve wasn't sure 'thought' was the driving force. More like 'hope'.

Eight months they’d been chasing that ghost story. They followed every lead to every base, safe house, and bank vault Bucky was in between 1964 and 1990, but it was only half the story. The KGB handled the science side of things while Hydra controlled the missions, so without a Hydra file there was no way to know where Bucky spent spent those months between checkups.

With the Avengers help- even just a Quin-jet- they could have covered twice as much land in half the time. But the Avengers might be as big of a threat to Bucky as Hydra.

Steve was hoping once he found a lead, scrap of paper, whisper, anything- it would be possible to convince the rest of the Avengers to help in his search. Bucky killed Howard and Maria Stark- before he risked calling the Avengers for help, he needed to know how Hydra kept him in line. How they controlled his mind and erased the man Steve had known.

Until then, Tony had to be kept at arm’s length. Steve didn’t think he knew about Howard and Maria, but if he found out things would get ugly fast. All it would take was a letter- perhaps one dropped off by a Hydra agent trying to sow chaos among the Avengers themselves- and Tony would be on the warpath.

"He had kill orders on me, I was dead to rights. He saved my life in the Potomac, I think he was starting to break whatever hold they had. Maybe he doesn't remember who he was, maybe he does. Either way he'll go back to places that are familiar. Even the bad ones." Steve had said as much to Sam dozens of times- but really he was the one who needed to hear it.

"‘Reprogramming Facility Alpha’ doesn't sound like a place anyone would want to remember."

"Yeah, well, that's why we didn't come here sooner." 

Steve rubbed a spot on his jaw just beneath his ear. It was three months since Tony embedded the new comm unit there, but he swore he still felt it itching. The other Avengers couldn’t be trusted in this mission, but he had faith in JARVIS at least.

Steve tapped at the comms impatiently, "It's gotta be time to go, is this thing even working?"

A soft click sounded in his ear, "Tech Support. What the fuck can I help you with at SIX THIRTY IN THE FUCKING MORNING?!" Tony shouted through the comms.

"I was just trying to see if the alarm was working. Sorry."

"Rogers, I've told you a hundred times, IT WORKS! Now STOP FUCKING WITH IT!" There was another click indicating the line was closed.

Tony's new comms were supposed to be an improvement on the old earpiece unit. Tap one of a dozen sequences over the injection scar for the device and be instantly connected with one of the Avengers or JARVIS. Steve was the only one who’d discovered the Tap-Spastically-For-Tony option.

"Wake Stark up again?" Sam refrained from using more than JARVIS' code and just let him operate the comm.

"Yeah, and I'm not even sorry. Six thirty his time, that means two thirty for us."

Sam sat down on the sidewalk of the bridge and leaned against the guard rail. He tapped his own comm just once, "JARVIS, wake me in 25, please."

Three AM. The intel they'd been able to gather over the last two weeks suggested a shift change took place then, if Hydra followed the same schedule noted in the KGB’s file. 

At three in the morning the new shift would start and the barge would break port for the next city in the chain. Anyone hiding in the containers wouldn’t be able to hear Sam and Steve walking around- not over the din of the engines. It would be easy to subdue the doctors in the shipping containers without alerting whoever operated the vessel- Hydra goons more likely than not.

A soft chime came through the comms precisely at 2:55. Sam groaned and got up off the hard ground. Steve was still watching the ship, studying every last shadow.

"Figure out where our target is yet?" Sam said.

"Not yet." 

They knew the base was on the ship, just not where.

"Anything new?"

Steve shrugged, "Not really. Someone went into the bridge, but no one’s come out yet. We're good to get going, once the engines kick on."

Both men were ready to launch their attack- even though their intel was incomplete. The Hydra pit-stop was kept mobile, even on the barge itself. Containers were shuffled every other time it docked, so even if he managed to catch sight of it at one port it was somewhere else entirely at the next. His entire plan hinged on the crates of the base either having visible ventilation or an open door.

"It's been five minutes… right?" Sam tapped on the small scar by his ear that marked the comm, "JARVIS, what time you got?" He waited for an answer and frowned, "Three o'four.”

"Maybe the guy from before is distraction the captain, we'll wait 10 more-" a scream, faint and distant, shattered the calm of the evening. Two quick pops followed it- gunfire. 

"GO!" Steve jumped over the guardrail into a freefall. Sam launched into the air and spiraled down after the Captain. He caught him just above the chilly ocean water and angled towards the barge. As discussed, the dark waters would be their camouflage.

The barge was roughly 100 yards off when Steve let go of Sam's arm and dropped into the water. He breathed deeply before hitting and once he was submerged it was willpower that forced his muscles to move against the sudden chill of the ocean. Momentum carried him under the barge and placed him next to the rear anchor when he surfaced. 

He listened carefully before climbing up to the ship- the barge was unnaturally silent.

Once Steve was on deck he began to run through the maze of corridors, looking for any clues as to the source of the scream and weapons fire. Did someone beat them here? The man on the bridge? Natasha found evidence Hydra partnered with powerful crime lords, would one dare an attack?

Far to his right there was another horrific scream. Steve slowed and crept towards the source as quietly as his boots would allow. He jumped as something crashed into the container on his right from the inside. 

He found the base, but he wasn’t the first one there. 

Steve ran around the crate as quickly as possible. He saw the long side of two containers pressed together, then a thin alley at the far end- he’d come around the back of the base. He gave up any pretense of quiet as he hurried to the next corner and rounded on the entrance.

A streak of motion to the right caused him to switch focus before he could make out more than the open hatch and a soft glow. 

There was a man running towards the edge of the barge. 

"Freeze!" Steve knew the shout wouldn't stop him, but he was hoping at least for a glance back. He pulled his shield off and threw it, aiming the impact for the middle of the man’s back.

The intruder half-turned and knocked the shield aside in a spray of sparks- a move he’d only seen once before.

"BUCKY!"

Bucky dove from the edge of the ship into the icy waters and vanished. Steve didn’t break stride. Abandoning his shield, he dove right into the water after him.

Sam swooped low to the surface and activated the life signs detector on his goggles. It was useless on a boat of large metal boxes, but at least here he could get readings.

Steve surfaced and began to swim as hard as he could in the direction he'd last seen Bucky going, "Sam, do a scan!"

"I'm trying," out on the ocean he could certainly see more, but there was a massive amount of information to sift through.

Steve was still swimming towards the shore he thought Bucky was aiming for, "Any day now!"

"You've got whales, seals, and a zillion fish around you, it takes a bit to find a single human signal in all that noise."

"FIND A WAY!"

"I'm trying but it's like dumping a mountain of nickles in front of me and giving me three seconds to find the damn dime!” Sam snarled. Each time he thought he saw the outline of a human beneath the water it shifted and merged with other shapes only to break up again. If one of those spots of light was Bucky, he was familiar with dodging life-signs readers.

"Run a metal scan! Fish aren't metal!" Steve was panting as he tried both to keep up his speed in the icy water and argue with Sam.

"Do I seriously have to remind you that Vibranium doesn't show up on a basic metal scan?!" Sam said. "I'll do passes up and down the shore on both sides-"

"It’ll take ten minutes to complete a pass that way! He could get out and take a shower and you wouldn't catch him!"

"What do you want me to do then?!" Steve was nearing the shore and Sam was at the limits of his patience. He scanned the area around them- nothing he could confidently identify as human in any direction.

"Just go back and search the fucking base," Steve snapped, "I'll head him off at the ferry."

Sam didn't confirm the order. He didn’t even want to see Steve for at least an hour, let alone speak to him.

Eight months. 

With the exception of two quick forays into Avengers Tower- once to repair his wings and again for the new comm unit- this was what their lives had been like. Tense incursions, failure, bad tempers, and then off to the next place on the list. Sam couldn’t help but think this time things would be worse- since Steve caught sight of his quarry. 

Maybe we’ll get lucky, Sam thought. There were only two ways out of Juneau- by ferry or plane, and Bucky wasn’t stupid enough to fly.

Sam landed first at the bridge of the ship, where Steve saw his mystery man wandering around- most likely Bucky. The door was still open and so he entered with his weapon drawn. 

At the banks of computers and controls were three men- all dead. One had a broken neck and the other two had been stabbed in the side of the head.Knowing the Winter Soldier's style they were probably all dead before anyone knew what was going on.

Sam lowered his guard as he left the bridge for the Hydra base below. By the time Steve was on board everything was quieting down- Sam doubted Bucky left anyone alive. Still, his first step was to retrieve Steve's shield.

Just in case.

Before they set out on their quest, Fury had given Steve and Sam a bag of transmitters to call on what was left of SHIELD. Up to now they’d activated one only as they left a facility so that Fury’s people could clean out whatever was left behind. Even an unused base or safehouse tended to hold a few filing cabinets. 

Steve wanted nothing to do with this new SHIELD, or whoever they called Director now that Fury appeared to be retired. All they would bring the Avengers was more secrets and more lies. 

Steve and Sam always left long before the jet arrived.

Out of spite, Sam pulled a beacon from the pocket of his tactical vest and activated it. Steve would insist on a full search, so the meeting between him and the new SHIELD was now inevitable. 

Serves him right for being a dick.

Passive-aggressive as his decision was, the second Sam was in sight of the Hydra containers he was glad for the beacon. 

A guard hung half out of the open container door missing most of the front of his skull. Sam worked special ops, he'd seen a few gruesome sights, but the guard turned even his stomach. Judging by the wad of flesh and bone next to the person's face, Bucky had grabbed the front of the guard's head and squeezed until he'd torn away the forehead, eyes, nose, and upper cheeks of his victim. 

Sam shuddered as he passed the body. The second guard was just inside the door with a knife sticking out of his throat. Much easier to stomach.

The Hydra base was made to be shuffled around so that no one would be too familiar with the ten crates that never left the ship (if anyone cared enough to look). Each container had a purpose, and that purpose was instantly clear to Sam as he stared across the narrow rooms. 

The separate pods were automatically sealed off and separated during the shuffle, but when they were connected- as they were now- the metal walls along the sides retracted, exposing the entire lower level. Only crates marked "Operating Room" and "Mechanics" were closed off from the spread of examination tables, computers, and an entire wall of neatly labeled drawers of supplies ranging from “Antiseptic Wipes” to “Zip-ties”.

Sam found one of the doctors in an equipment storage area with a broken neck. The man's tears were still visible on his cheeks, like he’d sobbed as death came for him. 

He almost felt bad for the guy, until he reminded himself the man was Hydra. What evils had this doctor facilitated? How many Hydra operatives did he patch up so they could go on killing innocents? 

Every computer screen Sam could see was shattered, even the spare ones in storage. Bucky unleashed hell on this place, and it almost made Sam hope that Steve didn't catch him. There was a lot of rage in the destruction of the base and its inhabitants, maybe more than Cap could handle on his own.

An electric hum was coming from the closed off container marked "Mechanics" as Sam slowly advanced into the base. He could smell the rancid stench of human flesh burning- a cross between burned pork and chicken that made his stomach twist. He covered his mouth and nose as he approached the cracked door. The hatch was open slightly, and Sam pulled the container open. 

In the corner of the small room was a chair.

At first glance it wasn’t much different than what you’d find in a dentist’s office- it reclined slightly, had foot, arm, and head rests- but no dentist he’d been to used metal restraints to subdue their patients.

A woman's body was strewn across the chair, as if she'd been fighting when the restraints closed. One hand was locked in normally, but the metal cuff went through the palm of the other hand in an explosion of bone and tissue. Her left leg was broken- it had been forced into the ankle cuff on the right side of the chair. Behind her left shoulder was a metal plate, and judging by the pen clinging to it the panel was magnetic. A good way to trap a man with a metal arm. 

Two black panels covered the doctor's face with a one-inch seam between them. An electric hum and thin wisps of smoke curled from within.

Sam looked for a power source to the chair and, once he identified it, severed the cable with the edge of Cap's shield. The pen fell and the panels quieted, but Sam suppressed the urge to pull them  back. He only glanced at the charred, black face visible through the seam and shivered- translucent goo was dripping down towards the victim’s neck. Sam had only seen it on late-night crime dramas- her eyes had burst under the assault of electricity.

There was a tag on the side of the machine. Sam skimmed it, but he’d figured out already why Bucky killed the doctor with such savagery, "PROJECT: WINTER SOLDIER". 

Steve’s riddle was solved. He’d been wondering what kept Bucky loyal to Hydra- apparently the answer to that question was electroshock.

 Painful, brutal, and effective.

"Cap?" Sam activated his comms, "You there?" all animosity was gone from his voice.

"Yeah, what's wrong? I'm trying to hot-wire a car, I need to concentrate."

"I know how they reprogrammed him. There's an electroshock machine here, a big one. They've been zapping him god knows how long. That kind of damage is significant, and permanent."

"He recognized me on the carrier-"

"He probably didn't. He might have just known something wasn't right. There's got to be a dozen points of failure when you try to make a guy into a weapon, but memory isn't something he'd be able to recover after they used this thing. If you get in his way again just knock him out and we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Fine. Thanks." Steve snapped. He'd been banking (more than he realized) on a the hope that, given time, they could heal Bucky’s mind and bring back the man Steve knew.

Sam waited for more of a reply, but he didn't push it. There was no computer, no dial to set the power on the machine- suggesting face-frying was standard. At that voltage there was no question- Bucky Barnes was long dead. All that could be left now was a cold, empty shell filled with Hydra’s poison and hatred. 

So that machine was what created the Winter Soldier. No wonder he's ripping faces off. 

But as it turned out, Bucky didn't just come back to the base for revenge. 

When Sam finally left the container he caught sight of a ladder in the far corner- every rung on the left hand side was crushed. Nothing in their intel suggested a staff of more than four people, so what drew him upstairs?

Sam hurried up the ladder, wary of the damage Bucky had done to it. The second floor held three shipping containers marked “Living Quarters”. The two crates directly over the "Mechanics" and "Operating Room" facilities had plaques declaring them "Labs” and "Water Treatment". 

What drew him from the ladder- what brought Bucky to Alaska in the first place- was a section densely filled with filing cabinets. Sam walked along the borders of the shipping container, stopping only at a drawer with a knife sticking out of the lock and a bloody, crushed handle. 

That seems like a good place to start.

Every file hung neatly in its own little folder, no matter how thin. Sam combed through them all. If Bucky took something then it was thin- there was hardly enough space to open the folders. He flicked through them impatiently and stopped only when he found an empty one near the back.

"PROJECT ECHO 2008-2010".

Sam pulled out the empty folder and set it aside, then continued through the cabinet- there was nothing else missing that he could see. He frowned and picked up the hanging folder again. 

Bucky attacked a Hydra base- and killed seven people- for a 5 year old Hydra project folder? Sam thought of the scene downstairs- every computer screen smashed. He thought it was rage, but Bucky had made a point of going after every screen, not just the ones in his path. 

Was he trying to make sure no one could access the digital records?

I must have missed something, Sam looked through every file carefully this time and found just as much nothing. It didn't add up- why that folder? What was so special about it? 

More importantly- the folder left behind was labeled ‘Echo’ with no sign of ‘Alpha’, ‘Beta’, ‘Charlie’, or ‘Delta’? Was Echo part of Bucky's programming process? Was that why he went after the file?

Sam clicked on his comms, "Steve, do you need any help casing the ferry?"

"No, I've got it covered. This area's too heavily wooded. Your wings are useless."

"Good," Sam only called to make sure that was the case, "Bucky came here for a reason. He took an old project file. I'm going to try and figure out why."

"You should signal the SHIELD teams," Steve heaved a sigh of defeat, "as soon as someone notices that barge isn't moving they'll send someone out to check on the crew. SHIELD should be here to secure the scene."

"Way ahead of you. We're going to miss our window in San Francisco, aren't we?"

"Probably… But that might not be such a bad thing. If you can figure out what file he took then maybe we'll know where to look next."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam eyeballed the cabinets all around him- there were probably thousands of files to search. "This is going to take a while…"

Chapter 2: SHIELD

[donaldresslerfanfic]

Down.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.

Word Count: 2142

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Thirty

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Ressler.

A month, a crazy scientist and a con artist later, we were still okay. Maggie and I, the task force and Reddington. Liz and Reddington not so much.

They had been quiet after Vanessa Cruz, they hadn't contacted me to go to the Post Office to take another case, and if they did, I had plans on my own.

I wanted to get out of the city for a while, just Mags and I, the car, the road, go anywhere.

I was about to present this plan to her over an early breakfast when her phone rang.

She looked at it with a frown and answered.

"Kate" she said shortly. The other person began talking on the other line, and I turned the TV down.

Maggie cursed under her breath and stood up.

I heard her say something else on the phone. I really didn't wanted to get into her business, I knew I wasn't going to like whatever she was doing, because I knew it was related to him.

Still, I stood up and jogged upstairs, she was kneeling down next to a box and shuffling through some files.

"Okay I got one. Mass Avenue 5312."

She listened attentively, then hung up

"What's wrong?"

She took one file and stood up to me.

"Donnie listen" she placed her hands on my chest and up to my shoulders. "Raymond is down" I frowned, leading my hand to my pocket to pick my phone

"Where is he?"

"Everything" she said stopping me from taking my phone up to my ear "is being handled, and I'm unfortunately part of this so... You have to let me go my way and you do you"

"Part of this how?" She glanced quickly at her watch and fidgeted in her spot.

"We don't have time for this Donald I have to leave, ok? And after this I promise to not give you much slack about the force and you and Raymond got it? But I have to leave"

She gave me one quick kiss, then jogged downstairs.

"I'm coming with you" I said, jogging behind her, she looked back at me from over her shoulder as she kept walking.

"No you're not actually. Can't have the feds anywhere near the places I'm going"

She was about to open the front door, but I placed my hand over it to stop her.

"Donald please" she complained.

"The 'fed' it's also a person who cares about your well being" I stressed the word 'fed'. I never liked it when people said it despectively, and specially if one of those people was my own girlfriend.

"If you care then it's better I go alone, you're FBI, you think people don't know you?"

My phone rang, I quickly fished it, still holding the door to keep Maggie in

"Ressler" I answered. I was told to head to the Post office, and was briefed on what I already knew, there was an assasination attempt on Reddington's life and he was injured. I said I was on my way and hung up.

I walked a short step to Maggie and placed my other hand on her neck.

"Maggie if you get spotted with Reddington, you are instantly placed and every kind of list there is. Do what you have to and stay as far away as you can. Someone tried to kill him, and I don't want anything to happen to you"

She looked at me and nodded, I pulled her to me and gave her one more kiss before we both got into out cars and drove away.

I would've given anything to go with Maggie and see what she did, how she worked behind the scenes, the secrets Reddington has.

I also would've killed for Maggie and I to be on our way to a little escaped away from everything. Another day.

Maggie.

I pulled in front of house, turning the engine off and getting out of the car.

I had a bag with files and other items I knew I would need.

In cases like these Raymond insisted to have money on standby, just in case. The money was held in different decrepit houses like the one I was in right now. He bought them cheap and installed money safes, sometimes he used them to another deals I couldn't care less.

I walked in and quickly located the vault, hidden behind a fake panel in one of the rooms. I opened it and quickly began to draw the money and put it into the silver case I had brought.

Another thing that usually happens in cases like this is that the other houses with the vaults have to be checked, and the combinations of the locks changed. I was meant to take care of that.

I finished with the money and closed the vault.

I got out of the house and sat in my car, I had several burner phones to use to deal with Raymond's business. I took one out of the box and left the file in the passenger seat.

I dialed a number and turned on the engine. While heading to Kate the adress I had given Kate I called Susan. She helped me with getting the houses and the usual paperwork for construction and such.

"Susan this is Maggie" I said, turning the corner "listen, I'm sorry I'm calling on such short notice, but the house in Georgetown? I'm finally approved to start building in it, how fast can you get me the demolition team?"

"For you Mags, tomorrow they can be there"

"Thank you so much Su" I said relieved. Raymond was going to be pleased with the house gone quickly.

I said my goodbyes and hung up. I called one of Raymond's contacts to get the vault out of the house before tomorrow. The vault was to be shredded to make sure it was untraceable.

And just like that, I had a file to burn as soon as I could.

I parked in the warehouse and walked inside, holding the case. I found Kate waiting for me at the first entrance. I handed the case to her and looked inside.

The paramedic tent was up, and I could see the shadows of people inside it. I saw Liz on the other side, also looking in.

"How is he?" I asked.

"Too soon to tell, they're working on stabilizing him"

I nodded, still worried.

"I'll handle what I have to. Please keep me informed" I asked Kate. She gave me a little nod and turned back into the warehouse.

I got into the car again and started it. Then began my trip to all the properties in DC, changing locks and safe numbers.

By the time I got home it was past 4 in the afternoon, and I hadn't eaten anything. I headed to my studio and grabbed the box with files I had let out in the open.

I secured it and headed down with the house I had to demolish to burn the file I had, making sure no one could link me to the house, and the house couldn't be linked to Raymond.

I placed the file in the barbecue rack and set it on fire, thinking hard if I was missing something or letting out any lose ends. Hopefully I didn't.

Ressler

I was getting ready to head out, staying in the Post office waiting for news about Reddington instead of being out of the city was really getting to me. The more I though that I could be doing something else besides being in my tiptoes for his every move, the more I wished to be done with this deal and have him behind bars.

Maybe I was starting to change, maybe this cat and mousse thing with Reddington can die down and I can be free.

While I was in the office, I made reservations in a little cabin outside the city. My plan was take Maggie out there and spend a few days out of reach from anyone.

Just us, a cabin, a creek to fish in, a fire. Just Mags and I.

Before leaving I was informed Reddington was admitted and had a 4 day post surgery recovery, and in that moment I contacted Cooper to let him know I was going to take those 4 days away.

He was happy for me, happy to know I had some other things to do, and so was I.

I drove to Mags' place, parked my car in her garage and before I could undo  my tie and walk across the living room, she walked quickly to me from the kitchen.

"Hey" she saluted, I gave her a little smile and finished with the tie.

"Hey, how was your day?" I said, she looked up at me worried

"Do you know anything about Raymond? Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's in post op"

She sighed and her shoulders untensed.

"I know that you couldn't care less or have any kind of sympathy for Raymond but he's actually worthy of my concern"

I nodded, knowing well that he hadn't done anything to Mags to make her hate him or dislike him. He took care of her as much as he took care of all the people that worked for him.

My hand took my phone and after I few taps I positioned the screen to her, showing her the picture of the cabin, surrounded by trees, and camp fire, a wooden area.

She looked at it with a frown and then looked back at me.

"What's that?"

"That is where we're going tomorrow" she frowned and looked at me with a little smirk.

"What? You are taking a vacation?"

"We" I set the phone down and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her chest to mine.

"What?" She asked again wrapping her arms around my neck "are you serious Agent Ressler?"

"100%. We leave in the morning" she smiled and pressed her lips to mine. "next time it'll be the beach, I promise"

"You know I don't like promises" she shook her head, my nose tapped with hers back and forth, I smiled and gave her another quick kiss.

"That's one I can keep"

She looked at me complicit, I reached down to pat her in the butt cheek and motioned at her to go upstairs.

She jogged up and by dinner time she had her bags ready, I readied mine after we ate.

It was in that moment when it hit me, and I couldn't help myself to ask Maggie while she pulled the covers off the bed.

"Are we living together?"

She looked at me and finished with the covers, then took her hair and began to braid it.

"It sure feels like we are"

"I was wondering because" I motioned at the closet that had half of my things mixed with hers "I've been filling this thing without asking and, you know, I've got underwear here, my toothbrush, my laptop, my shoes. And I don't really remember the last time I was at my place"

She gave me a smirk and finished with her braid.

"You want more room is that what you're saying?" She joked. I snorted a laugh and folded a shirt into my bag.

"No" I bent over to grab another shirt and stutter "I mean, I've been living here, I should at least help with the services"

"Those are paid bimonthly and not by me. Donald" she crawled over the bed and stood on her knees next to me "I love the fact that you're here, this" she motioned at the room "when we go to bed together and I get to look at you relax, then you turn and pull me to you and spoon me, that's easily the best part of my day. And I don't think we're going to fast. We're over thirty and we've known each other for almost three years now. Are you uncomfortable here? Do you want to move back and take your things? I won't feel offended."

"No" I said in a sigh and pulled her close by the waist "I was just... Confirming it?"

"That doesn't sound like a confirmation" she said with a smile, I looked at her, looked into her eyes, the ones I could look all day long.

"Coming back here, opening the door and knowing you'll be on the other side, that's the best part of my day" she smiled, leaning in and kissing me. I loved her kisses, I loved her lips, I loved the way her body felt when I hugged her. I was so stupidly in love with this woman.

I was really, really glad in enjoyed every second of our vacations, because what happened the second I stepped into the Post Office changed everything for the worst.