#the last time someone held me for anywhere close to how i needed was six months ago

[junkdaw]

god i want someone to lay on top of me not in a sexual way but in a im touch starved and like weighted blankets kinda way

[itjazzbicch]

Determination

Pairing:  Lars Alexandersson x Reader 

First time writing for Lars, so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Returning to their duties after being fatally injured during this madness of war, the reader surprises Lars as they are deeply in love but can't exactly have what their heart desires, not till the war ends and their duties are fulfilled...

Warnings:  Flashback (it is italicized!) Mentions of previous injury and wounds

Word Count: 0.6k 

"We'll be setting out in ten minutes..."

After six months, it was finally time for us to advance, helping Jin take down Kazuya once and for all. Lee and Lars had already made preparations, but there was one thing that Lee was keeping from Lars...

"Today..." When Jin was still missing months ago, I had been gravely injured while carrying out my operation regarding the international war that is still occurring. Everyone thought that I'd be out for good, but I was back, not only to help end this war, but there was someone special to me who needed to know that I had returned, smiling to Lars as I approached him and Lee on the rooftop of Violet Systems, ready to head out via aircraft. "We end all of this violence."

"Y/N-" Lars gasped, then was utterly speechless.

When our gazes met, I had never felt so many emotions bubble into me so quickly. The last time we saw each other was undeniably a horrible memory in his head, seeing how bloody and wounded I was, unsure if I was going to make it.

"You'll certainly be a great help, Y/N," Lee smiled at me, "Welcome back."

"Thank you," I smiled, my eyes still locked into Lars's as they glossed over, almost not believing his eyes. Even when the helicopter rotor blades spun and sent gusts of wind by us, Lars's hair whipping past his face, his gaze didn't leave mine for a moment.

------

"I'm not going to die on you, L-Lars...." I promised him the last time I saw him, my hand reaching out for him. "I will come back to you, I promise..."

-------

"I told you that I would come back," I smiled at Lars, finally face to face with him, "I promised."

"Y-You did..." His voice was low but full of emotion, and after seeing that Lee had given us a moment to ourselves and entered the aircraft, he showed his built-up emotions, hugging me softly at first, then squeezing me tighter and tighter, needing to feel me to know that this was real.

"And I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, hugging his head to keep him close, "We're going to end this war. Together."

The thought of the war wasn't in his mind at that moment, a gust of wind zipping past when our lips met, his arms pulling me close.

Lars never showed fear, but when I was wounded, and everyone feared I might not make it, he was terrified, as we had gone through so much together.

I wanted to wipe that memory away and focus on the future, for which we would fight tooth and nail. That's all I wanted: a bright future with him.

Kissing back, I held his face, keeping him as close as I could till our lips popped free, both of us gasping for air, feeling a spark as I had before when I found his blue eyes, smiling as that spark surged through me.

"I-I-" He was trying to speak but was still so shocked to see me here, the both of us laughing as he spat out, "I don't know what to say."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," I smiled, patting his cheek and kissing him one last time, "Besides, we have to focus on our duties for now."

I gave a soft but firm and assuring look at him, my eyes able to explain that this moment we had may have been short but meaningful, and the second we were done with our duties, we could have happier, longer moments just like this.

"You're right." He nodded, a determined look in his eyes as he stood up straight, both of us facing the aircraft. Taking his hand as I saw Lee waving for us, taking the first step of this wild journey we were about to begin:

"Let's end this war." 

2024 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[hagetsu]

a new year. | xiao x reader

———————————————————————-

“come on,” xiao urged, “give me your hand.”

as he turned around, his eyes glittered under the dancing colors of the festival lights. he looked beautiful, and for the first time in a long while, xiao held the softest smile. you almost reached out to touch his face in the manner which he said was childish but will lean in to you anyway.

ah.

but he wasn’t talking to you, he wasn’t looking at you. he probably doesn’t even realize you’re here. you were a little far away from him, safely covered by dozens of other people waiting in line. though you would recognize his voice anywhere, as it used to be your safe haven when you’re feeling overwhelmed. you could only look away and clutch the ride tickets you bought almost 2 months ago.

it was all planned, really. meet, fall in love, go on dates, get married, live a life together. “so, about our holiday plans-“, you started.

“y/n.”, he suddenly spoke, turning his head towards you.

you were about to surprise xiao with a festival date to celebrate new years when he realized he was not willing to spend the rest of his life with you. he didn’t want to start the new year together if you wouldn’t be able to end the year together, too.

“it makes sense, right?”, he sighed, as if he had thought of it over and over and over and over again. “it’s unfair for me to pretend i still want you, us, just so we could avoid spoiling the occasion. better to end it now, here.”

but you don’t understand. you could barely form the words to say to him, needles lodged in your throat as you feel the world spinning. your hands and legs moved first, pleading, begging, for him to tell you that this is all a joke. a misunderstanding.

“xiao-“, you managed to speak. “please, tell me what i need to do, what i need to work on. surely there’s still something we could do to make this work- i promise, i promise. please.” incoherent words and mumbles came out of your mouth, desperately trying to find the right words—anything to make him stay. tears drenched the palms of your hands as you frantically wipe them away, terrified of ever losing sight of the man you have slept next to for the last six years. afraid that if you were to look away for a split second, he’d vanish, with no trace that he was ever yours.

you could’ve talked and explained for hours, days, and maybe even years, but he had made up his mind. and you tried. but there was nothing you could’ve said or done to change his decision.

“i love you. please.” you whispered.

he closed his eyes, “i don’t want to say it, i don’t want it to be the last thing you hear from me.” and every fiber of your being collapses, allowing yourself to feel everything all at once.

“okay,” the pain in your voice so evident, and no longer fighting the inevitable. “okay, xiao.”

xiao left that night. the familiar perfume you have grown fond of slowly disappearing as you cling on his side of the bed, hoping it stays on your skin.

remembering the feeling of absence and terrified of how he would look at you once he sees you were enough reasons for you to walk away from the long line at the festival. you put the now crumpled tickets back to your pockets and you continued to move towards the exit.

“changed your mind?” the operator offered you a kind smile. he must’ve noticed the way you walk to hurriedly as if the ride was going to catch up on you and trap you. you were nauseous and unable to form a reply, you could only nod back to him.

the last time you saw the love of your life was when he turned his back to you and said his goodbye. the memory still suffocates you and you were so, so, so sure your heart still beats for him and the only way to calm down is for him to wrap you with his arms. but you were also sure his heart no longer beats for you, and he no longer has an obligation to take care of you.

does he know you would be here, today? is that the reason he was with someone else—to show you he has moved on?

you gritted your teeth and scolded yourself. you shouldn’t think of such cruel things. surely it was just a coincidence, the world is a small place. he loved going to festivals. you both did. this is the exact place and occasion you first met. who wouldn’t expect him to be here?

but it was cruel, wasn’t it? how could he look at someone else the way he looked at you?

before you can even start a debate with yourself, the night stills. everyone stopped what they’re doing and looked up at the sky, slowly being illuminated by colorful lights. the sound of the fireworks was enough to silence your heart, at least just for a little while.

and with that, a new year begins. without him, without your xiao.

[thethermocline]

TW: DISCUSSION OF CHILD ABUSE

@ fiction writers: pst. Little children do not walk up to strange adults and say "hey I'm being abused. :'( Here are three concrete examples of what's going on. Also, behold my underfed frame and bruises (one of which is in the shape of a hand)."

Abuse and how it affects behavior in children is, of course, a very complex topic. But here are some tips for writers that may be helpful. This is based on my training as a caretaker, experience caring for children ages 0-4, and close friendships with several adult survivors.

Firstly, even once a person knows and accepts that they were abused as a kid, they won't automatically realize how deep it went and all the ways it manifested. When you're friends with survivors of abuse, they will tell you light-hearted anecdotes without realizing that they are revealing another facet of abuse. For example, a friend of mine recently had to be told, 10 years after the fact, that the way her parents failed to handle her need for glasses was, in fact, neglect. She's known for years that she had been abused, but all the medical issues that arose in her childhood and then went unresolved never occurred to her as being another form of that abuse. Which leads into...

1. They probably don't know they're being abused while it's happening. Children come into this world with no frame of reference. They take their clues from those around them; and if those people abuse them, well, that's just how the world is then. Think of older people being like, "well MY parents whipped me with a belt and I turned out fine!!!!" I would argue that they are not fine, and hitting children with belts is abuse. But when they were kids, that's Just How It Was; years later, they still believe that it was their own fault for getting hit. Even if a child realizes that Something Is Wrong, they may struggle to pin down exactly what, and then further struggle to articulate it.

2. Please stop with the hand-shaped bruise trope. Also the black eye trope. It is rare for bruises to be so definite, and promoting this narrow idea of what "real abuse" looks like can make it harder for victims to get help. Generally, if an abuser beats you, they're not going to go for the face or anywhere else easily seen.

Take the case of a two year old child who had four or five small bruises on the inner thigh. Consider: the bruises were not arranged neatly in the exact shape of a hand. But: how many benign ways can a two year old get bruises like that on the upper inner thigh? Also relevant: this child was known to display erratic behavior and a marked and persistent reluctance to go to bed. The evidence for abuse, therefore, is circumstantial. However: if someone messes their kid up in an obvious, provable way, they are probably not then gonna send them to hang out with trained mandatory reporters.

Just like my neighbor who abandoned a cat and then lied about it because she knew what she did was illegal in our area, people do not want to get in trouble. (Do not worry, I took the cat and got him safely to a shelter. Last i heard he's doing well and is "highly adoptable," the sweetheart.) Keep this in mind while you write: abusers will take steps to keep from being detected and stopped.

Let go of the idea that abuse is always unambiguously evident and only present when it reaches an arbitrary "bad enough" threshold. Did you know that if a baby isn't held enough, it can develop a flat spot on the back of the head? Signs of abuse and neglect can be subtle.

3. A small child whose pain has always been received with apathy from adults has no particular reason to suppose that an adult they've not met before would act any differently. Kids take a long time to establish trust with adults. A benign example of this; I once looked after a sweet little girl from age 2 to 3. Her siblings told me that she was outgoing and effusive at home, but with us she was quiet and shy. It took six months for her to start talking, and even then only around me and a specific coworker (we were the ones most reliably taking care of her, as opposed to floaters who came and went). Most kids aren't quite that shy, but it's not necessarily unusual either! An outgoing, friendly child will come right up to a stranger and start interacting. But if they are shy or abused, it is far less likely. If you want your abused child character to latch on to your protagonist, you have to ask yourself why they do. What about the protagonist is different from other adults they've known? Children are not savants; your protagonist might have a heart of gold, but if they are gruff and unfriendly, they're probably gonna scare a little kid.

4. Children are not tiny therapists. Please stop writing this. They are not going to counsel your main couple into realizing how much they love each other. It's not cute or sweet to have kids taking care of adults.

5. People, much less children, often have difficulty identifying what they are feeling and why. A young child may know they are upset but will likely need help articulating why and finding healthy ways to manage that emotion. For example, a three year old child will not say, "I don't like loud noises because it reminds me of my dad being violent towards my mom and screaming at her." They're more likely to simply stand there and cry silently in terror. It is up to the adult to deduce the problem, remove them from the upsetting stimulation, and soothe the child.

6. People are often affected by abuse long after they are removed from the situation. Once your brain has been marinated in that kind of fear, it doesn't easily move on. It is not uncommon for victims of childhood abuse to only start remembering and confronting it around age 30. Your brain can and will shut memories down to protect you - but usually this is only temporary. It's also common for symptoms of trauma to intensify significantly once the source of trauma is removed. This is because, once you are safe, your brain finally feels secure enough to move out of survival mode and start processing what happened. Keep that in mind when you're writing; just because a character is safe does not mean they will act as if they are. Even if their mind feels secure, the body may still flinch. "Irrational fears" may develop; for example, a previous victim of an attempted break in while they were home may develop a fear of uncovered windows. Or perhaps they double and triple check locks, and give anti break-in devices as gifts to loved ones.

Those are my top tips for writing abused characters. I wish you all luck with your stories. Let me know if i need to tag this post differently.

[natsfirecat]

You’ve done this before, but omg I’m a sucker for them, so maybe Natasha has a nightmare and since Reader always make her feel better, she makes her way to readers room and tries to quietly lay next to her to not wake reader up. But reader does and comforts Natasha! ((Damn, pink eye? That sucks! 😖🥰))

Always

word count: 2.0k

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

warnings: nightmares, lmk if i need to add any more

A/N protective readers i hope you like this cuz this is really for yall lmao-

“You have no place in the world, Natalia. Neither does she.”

“No! What are you doing?”

Laughter erupted from the other woman as she emerged from the shadows.

“You caused this, Natalia. Your ledger is gushing.”

She held her hand over her chest as her breathing quickened.

She stared at the floor, falling to her knees.

“Stop!” She cried, keeping her hand on her chest.

The woman laughed again, then walked around her.

The scene changed, and they were back in the Red Room.

“You did this to her, Natalia. Just another dot of red on your ledger,”

A gun appeared in her hands, aiming at the targets.

She hit them all perfectly of course, but her stomach dropped when the target became a person in a chair.

“Do it, you know you have it in you. Let her die at your hands,”

“No…”

The woman laughed again, then pulled the rag off of the person’s head.

Natasha fell to the floor again, as she looked into the terrified eyes on the person in the chair; it was you.

It was her girlfriend. It was the person she had grown to love over the past few months of being together. It was the person who made her feel safe. The person she wanted by her side forever.

And now, that person really was about to become just another dot of red on her ledger.

-

“No!” She woke up, rolling over immediately. Her entire body was drenched in sweat and she was clinging onto her pillow as if her life depended on it.

She glanced up to check the time, seeing that it was 3:30 in the morning.

Letting out a sigh, she rolled back over to lay on her back.

She’s okay. Natasha thought to herself. She’s fine. It was just a nightmare.

She was still breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling.

She tried to think of other things to distract herself, but every single one of her thoughts ended up bringing her back to those thoughts.

She had the gun in her hand, and was about to pull the trigger no matter how much she didn’t want to.

She was about to hurt the person she promised she would always protect.

“No,” she whisper-yelled, hugging her pillow even tighter.

At this point, tears began to stream down her face. Her breathing became shaky again as she wiped her tears away.

Natasha took a deep breath in, then walked out the door and headed for your room.

You hadn’t been together too long, just a little under six months. Natasha hadn’t directly told you she loved you yet, but she tried to tell you in other ways.

She would hold you close, stroking your hair, placing soft kisses on both your cheeks before you’d turn around and kiss her on the lips.

While the team was fighting, she would always try to be fighting right by your side so she could protect you. If she couldn’t be by your side, she’d glance over at you often to make sure you were okay, or check-in with you through the coms. If you were in any danger, she wouldn’t hesitate to disobey orders and go to you.

Whenever you had her listen to a song you liked, she would listen with just as much enthusiasm as you; even if she didn’t even like the song. It was worth it seeing your smile.

While you had your own separate rooms, there were definitely nights spent with the other. She would pull you close, wrapping her arms around you. Sometimes, you’d cling onto her like a koala, and she’d just give your forehead a gentle kiss as you stayed in one another’s embrace.

When you had confessed to her that you wanted to learn how to braid, she did your hair in front of a mirror, giving you details about everything she was doing. She then sat in front of you, and continued walking you through the process. When you accidentally pulled a few strands of hair, she winced, but said nothing. She reached back and placed her hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before you kissed the top of her head.

You trusted her completely, she could tell. It was comforting for her, having someone who thought of her the way you did.

She knew she loved you, but just couldn’t bring herself to tell you. If she admitted it, then it would change everything, and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

You had actually told her you loved her last month. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hurt that she didn’t say it back. You didn’t want to pressure her though, and told her to take all the time she needed.

Even if she couldn’t tell you, that just made her fall harder.

Now, Natasha stood at your door. Her hand hovered over the door handle for a few minutes, debating whether or not she should go in.

The logical part of her mind knew that you were okay, and she didn’t need to go in and make sure.

The other part of her mind was still reliving your screams in her head. That part was responsible for the trembling that was still happening in her hands. That part opened the door.

Plus, her heart was still racing. She wanted to be near you to be calm

She let out a sigh of relief as she saw the rise and fall of your chest as you lay sleeping.

Her breathing slowed, and she was finally able to relax a tiny bit.

-

Once again, Natasha was conflicted as she stared at your sleeping body.

Now that she knew you were okay, it was safe to go back to her own room. But, if she did, she was worried that her nightmare would come again.

So, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you.

She then pulled the blankets back just a bit, then carefully slid into bed next to you.

Feeling calmer now, she leaned in and gently wrapped her arms around your waist. She didn’t want to wake you up, but she also wanted to feel close to you while she slept.

After a few moments of feeling herself getting more and more relaxed as she listened to your breathing, she smiled as drowsiness slowly started to overtake her once again.

Unfortunately, her moment was short-lived as you suddenly jolted awake, sitting up and turning to face her as fast as you could.

“Jesus, Nat,” you breathed out. “You scared me,”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, not making eye contact.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you replied, putting your hand on her cheek as she sat up too. You frowned once you felt the wetness from the tears that had been there earlier. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,”

You let out a sigh, stroking her cheek with your thumb until she finally met your eyes.

“Do you wanna talk about it or just go back to sleep?”

She thought for a moment, thinking about how safe she felt with you.

“I was dreaming,” she started, which you nodded both in response and to indicate for her to continue. “I was back in the Red Room. I had no control over what I was doing, it was like my hands had a mind of their own,”

You saw tears swelling up in her already red eyes, so you reached your other hand over and connected it to one of hers, keeping your other hand on her cheek.

“I had to kill someone. It was like a memory at first, ‘cause it happened so many times. But then they revealed who the person was, and…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish as she leaned closer to you and buried her face in your neck.

You held her tight as she let out a few sobs, silently telling her that you were here.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Natty,” you said as you began to rub her back.

After a few more heartbreaking sobs, she pulled back to face you.

“It was you,” she said quietly. “I had to kill you, you were gone”

Your heart broke at the sight of her. You wished you could take away her pain.

“I’m so sorry your mind gave you that cruel nightmare,” you told her. “But I’m not going anywhere,”

She let out another sob before wrapping herself around you again.

“Promise?”

“I promise,”

That was all it took as she let out one final sob before her breaths began to calm. You kept one arm around her back, then began to stroke the back of her head with the other.

“Sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night like this,” she said after a few minutes.

“It’s okay,” you told her. “I don’t mind. I just want you to be happy and alright, so if you need to wake me up in the middle of the night for that, then it’s okay,”

Her heart began to race once again, but it wasn’t because of the nightmares.

It was because of the thought she’s had for awhile, but could never bring herself to tell you.

“I love you,”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had been wanting to hear those words for so long, but never wanted to pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for.

Now, here she was, in your arms confessing her love.

When you had told her that you loved her, it was in a similar position to this. She was holding you (although it wasn’t because you had a nightmare or anything like that, she was holding you just to hold you) and you looked up at her and realized that you wanted her in your life forever, and there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her.

You smiled so widely at her, your cheeks were beginning to hurt.

“I love you too,” you told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She was now smiling just as wide as you.

“I love you,” she said again, resulting in a giggle from you. “Wow, it’s easier to say now that I’ve said it once,”

You laughed again, then leaned forward and connected your lips to hers.

It was almost difficult to kiss, considering the fact that neither of you could stop yourselves from smiling.

You both got on your knees so you could be closer to one another while kissing, wrapping your arms around each other. She had one hand around your back and the other around your neck, while you cupped her cheeks with both hands.

Soon enough, you began to lose your balance, pulling her down with you.

You now both lay on your sides, facing each other, unable to stop the laughter coming from both of you.

“God, I love you,” she said yet again. “Sorry, you’re probably tired of hearing that now,”

“Never,” you told her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before pulling back again. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing you say it,”

“That’s good, because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon,”

You connected both your hands to hers, staring at her for a few moments of comfortable silence.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to come to me, Nat,” you told her, rubbing small circles on her palms.

“Thank you for being the first person who made me feel safe enough to come to you,”

She leaned in and connected your lips once more, completely attaching herself to you.

“I’ll always protect you, just like you protect me,” you told her.

“Always?”

“Always.”

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Some Like It Rough

Gif credit @bodybebangin

18+ fic. SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Taglist @ackles-nhl. @cbouvier23.

Hope everyone enjoys it.

Happy reading dollies

"I needed you. Where were you tonight"? Kayce sat on the edge of the bed holding his ribs.

"I was out with Beth". You leaned over and grabbed the medical bag.

"For six hours"!? Kayce hissed when you pressed on his side.

"We talked, she drank...a lot. Then we played some pool at the bar". You tell him wrapping his ribs up.

"Meet any guys"? Kayce nibbled on his lip, looking up at you.

"Not this again. I didn't talk to anyone except Beth and the bartender".

"Was he a guy"!? Kayce grunted as he tried to lay down on the bed. You huffed and put the medical bag back in the bathroom.

"Yes, he was. We hooked up in the bathroom while Beth table danced. He also has a wife and a kid on the way". You lied about two things but Kayce didnt care even if you joked. He was jealous.

"I think you should go stay with your parents. We need some time". Kayce sighed, getting comfortable in the bed.

"Why? So you can go fuck every girl you see? Thats what you want? Go for it". You aggressively grabbed your duffel bag and started stuffing your clothes inside. "You wanna know something, the whole time we talked we talked about you and I. Like I couldn't shut up about you. Beth was there ask her. Because I know she wont lie for me". You scoffed and grabbed your keys.

"Y/N, I'm sorry".

"I'm tired of your sorrys. You start a fight and then apologize. We never solve anything. I'm sick of it. That's all we do, since you got back. You need to grow up and figure out what you want whether it has me in it or not. Figure out your shit". You slammed the door behind you. Kayce had a lot to think about. First he hated being alone when he was hurt. He needed comfort. So he went to his big sister.

"So what was this fight about this time"? Beth lit up a cigarette.

"What happened at the bar"? Kayce relaxed in his rocking chair with a groan holding his side.

"We talked and I got a drink. What's all this about? I thought you two were good"?

"We were but I guess my jealousy took over. She came home looking good. Guys must have talked to her. Drooling over her and shit".

"The only guy we talked to was the bartender. He was nice. But married".

"So you didn't table dance"? Kayce chuckled when he figured out he was an asshole.

"Hell no. I'm not that drunk". Beth laughed.

"I think you owe her more than just a shit I'm sorry. You need to fuck her brains out". Beth looked at Kayce seriously.

"I'm not talking about this with you". Kayce gasped getting up from the rocking chair.

"I'm a girl. I know what we want. We want a hard rough fuck and a man that knows what the hell he wants. Not some chicken shit. So grow up and tell that girl you love her. And fuck her brains out". Beth sat back in her chair proudly. She knew her shit.

"Well, it'll have to be a slow fuck cause I'm banged up". Kayce laughed with a hiss.

"Just give her that dick good and she'll know you love her".

"Oh my god. I'm leaving. My sister just said good dick in the same sentence. Have a good night. Thanks". Kayce struggled as he tried leaning over to kiss Beth's head.

"That was the pg version. I could've gone graphic. You know me". She laughed as Kayce shook his head and limped down to his car.

Kayce knew what he wanted. He wanted you. He needed you. Kayce called your cell and nothing. He called your parents, nothing. He was starting to get worried. But he knew you wouldn't go stay with friends cause they would tell so he searched at the hotels around. Only two near the house. One was a nice place and the other was a hole in the wall.

"Is there a Y/N Dutton registered here"? Kayce asked the night clerk at the front desk of the nice place.

The lady typed on the computer. "Sorry no ones named that here".

"Can you try Y/N Y/L/N"? Kayce knew if you didnt use the Dutton last name then you would use your last name.

"She's here. Room 204. But am I allowed to give you her number? You a serial killer or something"? She was hesitant on giving Kayce the key.

This made Kayce chuckle. "No ma'am, I'm her boyfriend. We're in a long distance relationship right now but she's thinking about moving here". Kayce made up something so she would give him the key.

"Alright but if I find her in the morning dead, I saw your face and I will identify you. I'm not scared of you". The clerk pulled out a shotgun.

"Yes, ma'am. That's not going to happen though. You may hear some screaming and moaning but that's not from what you're thinking of". Kayce blushed a little but was honest, he didnt want her busting in and pointing that shotgun at him.

"You do you, boo. Go get your girl". She smiled and patted his hand as she passed him the key. Kayce snickered and started up the what felt like a hundred stairs. He groaned and grunted as he walked up holding his side. In his mind he was just hoping he was able to make you moan and not pass out at your feet.

Kayce knocked on the door. "Who is it"? Kayce heard your voice and smirked.

"Room service". Kayce disguised his voice.

The door opened and his eyes went wide, you cracked the door open in a towel. You had just got out of the shower.

"Kayce, what are you doing here"?

"Um, I, god you're beautiful". Kayce stepped in, licking his lips. He grabbed you by the waist and captured your lips with his. He closed the door behind him with his boot and your towel fell to the floor.

"Kayce"? You gasped when Kayce lifted you up, your legs immediately went around his waist. His calloused hands dug into your back as he kissed you.

Kayces knees hit the bed and he slowly laid you down. He released your lips and stood back.

You closed your legs and covered your chest.  "Don't hide from me". Kayces husky voice made you tremble. Your inner thighs became wet. The heat from your center was radiating off of you.

Kayce smirked as he brought his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. He kicked off his boots and unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the floor. When he first came he was hurting but as soon as he saw you. What pain?

He was already so hard. He could have hammered a nail with his hard on.

"Open your legs, baby. Let daddy see". Only a few times has Kayce went daddy and every time the night was amazing so you hardly ever done it so it could be special.

You let out a squeak, your legs falling open. Kayce smirked to himself when he saw how wet you were already. He took his middle  finger and touched your clit. You thought you could have came right there. You bit your lip to quiet your moans.

Kayce chuckled, his slipped his fingers through your slit with ease, massaging your with his palm. "You like when daddy does this, dont you"? Kayce evil chuckled. You nodded.

Kayce bent down and got on his knees, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He started kissing your inner thighs. His beard tickled, but you loved it.

"Mmm". You started to buck your hips but Kayce held you down with his strong hands.

"Someone's eager". Kayce was inches away from your clit, you felt his hot break on your pussy lips. You felt yourself get wetter.

Kayce took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit. Making you whimper to be touched.

He flattened out his tongue and pressed hard against your clit and started wiggling his tongue.

"Fuck". You gasped, your hand went to his hair.

He sucked on your clit, his middle and index finger teasing your entrance then slowly pushing in. It was driving you crazy for him not to be rough on you.

"Daddy". You moaned his name and he went faster. It encouraged him to go rougher. His fingers went in deep and rough. His middle finger pushing against your g-spot. "Oh fuck". One hand tangled in his hair and the other one holding on to the sheets.

"I'm gonna cum". Kayce sucked you clit as he looked up at you, his fingers never losing their pace. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming". You screamed over and over as you felt your first orgasm take over your body. It trembled and shaked as he kept fingering. He let go of your clit with a pop. Your hand reached down and stopped his. You couldnt take it.

"Such a good girl for daddy". Kayce grinned smacking his lips as he climbed up your body. He helped you scoot up the bed. His eyes never leaving yours. You let out a giggle, a blush upon your face.

"I just wanted to say...". You cut Kayce off by a kiss to the lips.

"Shut up and fuck me". You pulled Kayce on top of you. Wrapping your legs around him, a knot tied with your legs so he couldnt go anywhere.

"Yes, ma'am". Kayce gladly did as he was told.  He lined himself up and pushed in. God, he stretched you in all the right places.

"Fuck, baby". Kayce mumbled into your skin of your chest. He started kissing along your collarbone, kissing your neck.

Kayce picked up his pace and his  thrusts were deep and long. His hands resting on your back.

"I love you. I'm sorry for being jealous". Kayce spoke between kisses and thrusts.

"I forgive you". You kissed his chest and nibbled at his ear lobe. "I love you so much. Fuck". You threw your head back into the bed when Kayce thrusted in the right angle. God, did he know your body or what.

"You gonna cum again"? Kayce chuckled as he felt you start to squeeze his cock. You let out a whimper and a nod.

"Cum for daddy". Those words sent you straight to the stars. Your orgasm exploded around Kayce. His cock still thrusting as your orgasm still fired away. He was close. So close. Your walls were milking him.

"Fuck". Kayce grunted, his head fell to your chest as he came. His hot seed covered your walls. You wrapped your arms around him and held him as both your orgasms exhausted both of you. You laid there until he went soft and he pulled out of you. Getting under the covers, Kayce pulled you into his arms with a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

"I'm truly sorry that I always let my jealousy get in the way of our relationship. I'm going to work on that. Because I know you would never cheat on me". Kayce said as he cuddled you in more.

"I would never cheat on you, ever. Especially after that. Holy fuck that was amazing. You definitely out did yourself there Mr. Dutton". You giggled, moving a piece of hair from his face.

Kayce chuckled. "You'll have my sister to thank for that. She told me what you wanted".

"So you did talk to Beth and found out that I'm a good girl". You teased.

"I know that's a lie. But I know that you want me and I want you. I was just being bullheaded. I'm sorry".

"I forgive you. Now". You cleared your throat. "How bad are your ribs hurting"?

"Not to bad. Why"? Kayce eyed you.

"I want a ride again, cowboy". You pushed him on his back and climbed aboard the Kayce train. You were never getting off no matter how jealous Kayce was or how angry you were about it. You both loved each other and that wasn't going to change.

[watevermelon]

Same Old Love | Kaeya (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Kaeya was mysterious in every way that made you wary. From the gleam in his eye to how easy it was for him to flirt, it made you wonder how much he was presenting was truly real. Not wanting to get sucked in, you swore not to fall for the Cavalry Captain. At least, that was the plan, right? ➳ Notes: Angst with a happy ending ➳ A/N: Thank you so much for the ask!! This was fun to write ((I feel like I write so much angsty/jealousy fics haha)) I’m just getting into genshin and so please feel free to send in requests for these cuties <3 @breathings-of-the-heart​

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You had some worries about Kaeya, dubbed “The Handsome Mr. Kaeya” by Paimon.

There was no doubt that he was attractive, his ever present smirk and exposed chest was enough to signify to anyone that even Kaeya was well aware of his looks. But he tended to wield his words like a double edged sword - using his words for an express purpose.

It was admirable, in a way. He was the loyal Cavalry Captain who looked out for Mondstadt’s best interest. And while he had misled you on this pirate treasure adventure, there was no harm really done. In fact, from the way he prattled about haircuts and eyepatches inherited from his parents, you were already sure that it was simply a tale being spun for Paimon to latch onto.

At the end of the day, Kaeya still compensated you for your time and provided you with a higher-level weapon. The criminals were caught and the Knights were credited for another arrest of an infamous Treasure Hunter. It was a win-win situation that you very quickly put behind you as another job done.

The entire quest had not really bothered you - it was not like you had not withheld anything either. You ran from clue to clue without updating Kaeya on your progress, with the express intent of snagging some of this treasure yourself.

It was a really smart move on his part and, for whatever reason, it had the inverse effect on you - it made you want to get closer to Kaeya.

Paimon grumbled for all of a day before she prattled onto something new, complaining about the returning ruin guard by the temple or the way Venti sassed her. But you often found yourself hanging around Good Hunter or  Angel’s Share, wondering if you would be able to run into him again.

It was no surprise that Kaeya was always busy, Jean had mentioned before that Kaeya was the one who often wrapped up every physical incident that occurred in both the city and outer plains of Mondstadt.

And so it was easy to lose track of him, the image of Kaeya still present in your mind, just pushed back in the further recess as you continued in your struggle to find clues about your brother. When whispers on the street spoke of a Dark Knight hero, you were pleasantly surprised to see Diluc patrolling the streets from the shadows.

The last thing you had expected was to team-up with the very man who ran opposite to the Knights, but you learned how oddly sweet Diluc was in that short amount of time. His double life of fighting off the abyss army single-handedly to running the largest Winery on the continent - Diluc’s workload was no easy feat.

You were just out of the clear, Huffman gone to deal with the slimes when a resounding clap started from the dining area of the bar. Kaeya stood and approached you both, you turned to Diluc and he had the flattest, most unimpressed expression on.

You stood mostly silent in that conversation, Diluc with his arms and chin held high. Kaeya had reassured him that the secret was best kept that way, eyes glinting mischievously as they went from the winery owner to you.

You only stared right back, as if Kaeya’s face would give off exactly what he was looking for. Instead, he simply smiled at the both of you and left when Diluc said he was closing the bar. Diluc thanked you for your assistance, reassuring you that in case you need help, he was a willing hand.

When you walked out the bar then, Kaeya was still right outside, chatting casually with some of the late bar-goers that sat at the picnic table. Just as he made eye-contact with you, he bid himself goodbye from the group and fell into step with you.

“Paimon doesn’t trust blue-haired, eye-patched men anymore.” She started next to you.

“That’s good I’m a blue-haired, eye-patched handsome young man.” Kaeya shot back, to which she rolled her eyes. He then turned to you with the same open smirk as usual, “And here I was thinking I could make you my assistant.”

Was he flirting with you?

It took you a second to question this internally before Paimon scoffed, “Ugh, I’m going ahead to the inn. I don’t think I can stand watching you make kissy-faces at each other after the day we had.”

You waved a hand in her direction to smack her, but she was already flying away up and out of reach.

Turning back to the Captain, you were surprised to see that Kaeya was still looking at you, not even toward Paimon as she fled into the night.

Remembering his last statement, you shot back, “Think you could handle me?”

“Confidence, it looks very good on you.” Kaeya replied as his smile widened. He took a single step closer, lowering his voice next to your ear and continuing. “But the real question is if you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

You stood your ground, ignoring the shiver that ran up your spine, “I always like to try new things.”

“I look forward to it.” Kaeya straightened, lightly grabbing your hand in one of his own and raising it to his lips. “Until then, traveler.”

To think that such a simple action, hardly anything scandalous, had lingered on your skin the entire night. You remembered the way his lips felt against your hand, how striking his blue eyes bore into your own. Kaeya was extremely dangerous, able to catch your attention and keep it for hours on end.

The next day you had a commission about dismantling a rising Hilichurl camp, a perfect distraction away from the eye-patched hunk that kept plaguing your thoughts. The last thing you expected was for Kaeya to see you.

“Looks like our honorary knight continues their do-good streak.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You replied back, a sassy hand on your waist.

“Why don’t I accompany you?”

You wanted to scream.

Paimon actually did groan before stating she was going to stay in the city.

And suddenly, your distraction was running exactly opposite to your intention. With Kaeya joining your party, the Cavalry Captain was making himself decidedly known you.

He led you around a cliff, showing you a higher area where you could survey the camp before bursting in guns blazing. There were six Hilichurls, some slimes scattered about and two towers already set-up in this enemy campsite.

You decided to stick together, coming in from the high ground and slamming your weapon into the ground at unsuspecting enemies. It felt nice to fight alongside someone again, oftentimes you were alone in your adventures. Paimon would yell words of encouragement, but never would she actually lift a finger to fight. But Kaeya was reliable, freezing enemies into place and shattering them where they stood.

Taking down some of the outer-rim electro Hilichurls equipped with bows, you were nearly finished with clearing the entire camp. You grabbed the pyro slimes and exploded them near the towers, taking down the camp with them. With the camp almost completely disassembled, you heard the tell-tale electronic power-up that only signified one enemy.

A ruin guard.

Hunched over, you watched as multiple missiles took aim on the nearby unsuspecting Cavalry Captain. Running the best you could, you threw decorum out the window as you all but tackled the poor man out of harm's way.

Rolling a few times, there was no surprised yelp from the man beneath you. He simply allowed you to take the wheel until you came to a stop, hovering over his body. Kaeya was undoubtedly taller than you, but you were face-to-face as he smirked beneath you.

“Wow, not that I’m against this.” Kaeya started, a quip ready. “But ask me out to dinner first.”

You flushed and stood up immediately, “I was saving you!”

“I’ll let you save me any day of the week.” Kaeya replied, earning a half-assed scowl on your behalf. He only laughed at you, calling your attempted look of intimidation only served to make a cute pout instead.

You huffed and considered leaving him with the ruin guard.

From then on there was no doubt about it - Kaeya was flirting with you.

And you were openly flirting back, if of course he decided a less obnoxious moment. In between commissions and nights at Angel’s Share, Kaeya flirtations were growing more and more brazen. It was one thing to kiss the top of your hand in greeting and another entirely for Kaeya to throw his hand across your hair, leaning in to openly bury his nose in your hair.

Diluc called you both disgusting.

Tonight, you entered Cat Tail’s semi-inconspicuously to get a drink. Paimon had long caught onto your game, saying that she surprisingly approved of Kaeya, since after all he was still a good guy in some ways.

But, she still was not exactly a fan of you too making “kissy-faces” at each other, her words. And so tonight you were flying solo, Paimon opting to annoy Amber instead tonight as they tracked down some abyss mage or other.

You tried your best to hang around the bar, looking around the tavern to see if the object of your desire was anywhere around. You meandered for a few minutes, saying greetings to other bargoers that had recognized you, before approaching the bartender if Kaeya has been around

The bartender recognized you immediately. It was hard not to place one of the few new people in Mondstadt, especially one that was crushing much of the country's enemies. Diona had mentioned before that you were a friend of Diluc’s, often more than just a customer at the rival tavern. No, you were seen running around the city with the red-head at random times.

She said the worst thing you could have ever suspected.

“I think Kaeya has a hot date tonight.”

You felt a lump in your throat form, but tried to keep your response guarded. “Oh?”

The bartender continued, “Yeah, I’m not sure if it was Paula? Or Maggie tonight? But you know the captain - always changing up his escapades.”

“Right, of course.” You replied back, words coming out before you could even register it. Instead, you kept on nursing your drink, spiteful words from the bartender marinating in your mind.

Kaeya was mysterious, yes. But was he leading you on?

… Was it right of you to trust him?

The first red flag should have been the fact that you knew nearly nothing about him personally. To think that you had spent all this time together talking and fighting alongside one another, but you could not even recall basic facts about him, let alone anything deep. You were unaware of his family history - Diluc was his brother, but it was the red-head who ended up confiding that fact to you.

Kaeya was so charming that you hadn’t even noticed he shut you out of his world.

And so there was no point in actively keeping a one-sided friendship like that. From then forth, you resolved to avoid the Cavalry Captain for the time being. You knew you had to free Dvalin together, but that did not mean you had to swoon for him in your free time.

It was almost expected of you to join him on Friday nights at Angel’s Share, but tonight you were missing. Neither Charles nor Diluc had seen you the entire day. There were probably a hundred different things you were doing - gathering resources, fighting slimes - and so Kaeya thought little of it.

But he was still disappointed not to see your face that night.

And so he thought nothing was wrong the next day when he saw you in the city square, talking to someone at the general store. He approached you and offered to join your party again, take down some enemies somewhere out in the country.

You didn’t even smile at him.

Not this time.

Just a curt no before you were leaving out the city gates.

The second time Kaeya already had enough and confronted you before you could even attempt to walk away.

He grabbed at your elbow, “Have you finally grown tired of me?”

You pulled it back, no real strength behind it as Kaeya still held you under his grip. “Kaeya, why is it that you keep reaching out to me? I have nothing of my own to offer - no money, no family - there is nothing left I can give you.”

He frowned in response but grabbed at your other hand, “I haven’t asked you for anything, have I?”

You looked away, “You don’t have to! It’s inherent, after all. Isn’t that why you asked me to team-up in the first place, to use me to find your criminals?”

Kaeya mentally recoiled, “Woah, back up. I may have guided you regarding the treasure but never have I maliciously led you on.”

You pulled at your hands to no avail, this time the captain actively trying to keep your attention on him. 

“I just! I thought I meant something more to you, Kaeya.”

He smiled and tried to pull you into his chest, but you shoved off his touch this time fully.

“No! You can’t just hug me and think everything is okay. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, one of the handful of people I can trust in Mondstadt and I know nothing about you.”

Kaeya did not reach for your hands, instead moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry that I hold my secrets close to my chest, but that’s what I’m used to.”

Frustrated, you replied. “Don’t you get tired? Holding the people that love you at an arm's length?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time reaching for you. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t special. Trust me, you’re the only one I’ve had eyes on ever since you landed here in Mondstadt.”

You shook your head, “But the bartender, she said -”

“Who cares what she said?” Kaeya interrupted, “They know village gossip, but they don’t know me or you.”

“I don’t really know you.” You replied.

Kaeya caressed the side of your cheek before lightly gently grabbing your hand again, “Then let’s start.”

With a hesitant smile, you closed your eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

You had your doubts then and it’s not like an issue of trust was fixed overnight. But, to his credit, Kaeya tried as best he could. Instead of meeting randomly at the bar, he would approach you sometime during the day and set-up a date. How he knew where you were was a mystery, but a man with that many connections surely had a way.

He had no qualms about holding your hand or openly kissing your cheek in the presence of others - proclaiming loudly to one and all in Mondstadt that you were his and he was yours.

Taking your first argument to heart, Kaeya was very keen on communication. Anything you were unsure of, he expressed that he was by no means rushing you. And when you finally shared your first kiss, for once not a single soul in front of the Lord Barbatos statue, you leaned into his touch to get many more.

Kaeya made good on his promise, slowly letting you into his world in kind. You remembered one night as the both of you sat on the edge of Mondstadt, nothing but ocean for miles in front of you. You had your head on his shoulder, describing your adventures with your brother and how you missed having family.  

Kaeya had a gentle hand in your hair, rubbing soothing circles as you recalled a time long ago. Once your story finished, you two continued to stare out, wondering what the future could hold as your minds swam in an endless sea of thoughts.

He broke the silence.

“I miss my brother also.”

Diluc was not always his estranged brother, but once a friend, supporter, and sounding board. Some even mistook them as truly twins in heart and mind, defending Mondstadt and having each other’s backs for years. The Diluc you had come to know was a shell of his old self, close friends and past hidden behind years of repressed feelings.

There was no doubt wistfulness in Kaeya’s eyes as he recalled the past to you, but you continued to listen quietly. 

Your relationship with the Cavalry Captain was hardly easy. Often responsibilities called you both - Kaeya was highly stationed in Mondstadt while you still had seven other countries to visit. But that did not mean the end for you both. Even when you were thousands of miles away or sat atop the highest mountain without a clue to where he was, you cherished the thought that you still shared the same sky with the love of your life.

No matter where you were in Teyvat, you had Kaeya to return to.

[whump-town]

The Traveling T-Shirt

No Pairings

No Warnings

It's just Morgan's t-shirt traveling through the BAU one person and story at a time

It starts with a coffee spill in Seattle. With Aaron, startlingly enough.

Six days in the rain and it seemed even their cleanest, driest clothing was damp with the chill from the constant downpour. Though, six days on their feet with clothing they’d already worn at least twice that week on their backs, they looked more and more “rag-tag” as the hours bore on. Even Hotch had lost his cookie-cutter charm. His white t-shirt crumpled where it was typically pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair wouldn’t stay gelled into the style he liked it in, leaving it fluffy and soft on the top of his head. He looked significantly less like SSA Aaron Hotchner and a lot more like Aaron.

Maybe he had lost SSA Hotchner somewhere along the days and victims because SSA Hotchner would never spill coffee on himself. But Aaron would and Aaron did.

Derek watched the whole thing take place, unable to take his eyes off of Hotch since the second that he walked in. Something about his tired zombie-like lurches just couldn’t break Derek’s curiosity and he had to know what would come out of Hotch’s current state. Despite the far-away look in Hotch’s gaze, the tired bags of discoloration under his eyes, Derek would not have predicted this as the outcome. Hotch is so out of it that all he can do is stare at the mess he’s created, glaring at the mess of coffee grounds across his less than pristine white dress shirt.

“Here,” Derek shakes his head, has to manually clear the fog occupying his brain. He pulls at the loose clump of napkins someone had left atop the coffee table for this exact situation, presses the mass into Hotch’s stomach. It feels akin to something else, distinctly deja-vu. Like he’s pressing into a wound, holding him together with nothing more than cheap napkins.

The physical contact brings Hotch back to the Earth and with a few blinks of his blood-shot eyes he sighs irritably and mumbles, “I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Derek would argue the one he’s currently wearing is not clean either. It’s got a few dots of red expo marker on the left elbow where Reid bumped into him, rambling quickly about his map and the geographical profile. On the cuff of his right sleeve, there’s something brown or black which could be something from a pen or an expo marker or something else he’s just stuck his hand in. God knows what else is on this shirt.

Hotch puts his hand over Derek’s, holds the napkins himself. Derek pats his shoulder, “it’s alright, man. I’ll get you a shirt.”

They could go just about anywhere and just buy him a shirt. It could be some looney graphic t-shirt from the boy’s sections of some store down the street or another white dress shirt to replace the one he’s wearing but Derek just gets one of his. It’s a light grey, the color worn down by how frequently Derek wears it. Where it fits Derek snugly, hugs his chest and back tightly, it fits Hotch oddly. Displays to them all just how right they were in the assumptions they have held about how his recent divorce is affecting him.

He’s lost weight.

Too much.

One thin grey Hanes t-shirt can’t fight off the chill and overtop it, covering his visible bones, Dave throws him a sweater. He stays buried in that sweater and shirt all day, long into the night as they go hunting out in the streets with flashlights. Rain comes down heavy and thick.

Dave gets his sweater back. Folded neatly and smelling of the distinct fabric softener Hotch uses, it makes his whole office smell nice and Dave nearly can’t bring himself to wear the thing again. Doesn’t want the scent to fade, every inch of that sweater is now stitched together with something more.

The t-shirt gets left at the bottom of a drawer, to be discovered months from now.

Emily finds it six nights after Foyet left Hotch in Saint Sebastion’s hospital held together by sugrical staples and the stubborn will to live. All of his clothing has been hunted through, his shirt drawer is nearly empty. JJ and Penelope had undertaken the job of finding Hotch clothing for the hospital -- anything that he could just slip his arms into without having to lift them above his head. The only things left in his drawers are regular t-shirts and jeans, meaning Emily doesn’t have a whole lot to pick through right now.

She hadn’t anticipated this need and as much forethought as she put into staying the night was assuming Hotch would have clothes she could steal. She hadn’t really thought she’d be here tonight but she doesn’t think she can leave him alone. Doesn’t think it would be kind of her as his friend to see him like this and still choose to leave him for the night.

She decides on a thin grey shirt that she finds, turning her nose up to his university t-shirts (as if she’d wear those) and a pair of sweat pants on his floor that she thinks are clean or at least don’t smell bad. It’s not the best but she came unprepared and she’s not going to complain, both are comfortable even if the pants are giant on her.

To her surprise, he’s still fighting off his meds. Hazy brown eyes blink open when she steps back out into the living room, following her as she comes to the couch. She’s careful, even if she does it nonchalantly, as she moves his legs a little so that she can sit down beside him. He’s stretched across the couch, too big so he’s pinched up in places, but he doesn’t want to sleep in his room. Stubborn like a child being asked to take a nap -- “but I’m not tired”.

“T’as not my shirt,” he mumbles into his blanket. He’s got the heating blanket pulled up his nose, wrapped tightly around his shoulders and hands.

Emily looks down at it and frowns. “Well, then who the hell else’s is it?” She reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table, turning it on without waiting for his answer. Clearly, she doesn’t care who’s it is, she’s not taking it off now. His grunt, muffled by the blanket, means he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care enough either to figure out who it is.

He doesn’t last much longer, falls asleep with her squishing him on the couch (though, arguably, he’s squishing her). She’ll brush off his timid embarrassment at having to need her around the next morning, for waking up in the middle of the night having to be held down. Sobbing incoherently about something, neither of them really sure what. Only calming down when she put his head in her lap, stroking his hair back until he fell back asleep. Which is how he wakes up, his head in her lap and his hand holding her’s hostage.

But she shrugs it off and says she only did it for the free shirt, “don’t worry about it.”

She keeps the shirt, uses it several more nights as they graduate from sleeping on the couch to him finally going back to his bed. To being mentally present enough again to fight her about taking meds, to walking her to the front door every night, and watching her leave.

She buries the shirt too. It feels too tight on her skin, wrong. She touches the material and remembers seeing him hysterical, writhing in pain, and unable to be comforted. Can smell the antiseptic from his skin. Can hear the doctor warning her about his heart. That shirt feels like losing her best friend but she can’t bring herself to get rid of it.

JJ uncovers it a year later (before Emily has done the unspeakable, the unimaginable, and died and come back to life). It’s a girls night gone wrong but not impossibly so.

“Just grab one of my shirts,” Emily says, still laughing.

JJ glares back at her. She’s covered in water from the sink -- Emily sprayed her with the faucet. It’s revenge, payback for the pasta sauce JJ swiped down her cheek.

“You two are devious,” Penelope insists, waving her fingers at them. She’s still chopping up mushrooms, trying to size them as best as she can so that they are spread evenly throughout the alfredo sauce. “Behave before you ruin the sauce and I have to tell Dave that I not only shared his recipe but that you two ruined it.”

JJ has to search for a shirt from Emily’s pajama drawer. She doesn’t want any of the old college shirts and certainly doesn’t want any of the dopey graphic t-shirts Emily is so partial to. She ends up on a grey shirt, worn and old and soft.

Emily knows the shirt the second the JJ comes out and it takes her a moment to hide and stifle the anxiety that its presence gives her. Hotch’s health is better, he’s got a routine down with the medication he’ll be taking for the rest of his life because of that attack, but he’s smiling again. It’s harder than it was before to win one out of him but he can do it, they happen.

“Which one-night stand is this?” JJ asks, plucking the shirt with her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

Emily shakes her head, clears her throat of the residual guilt, and smirks, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” Hotch would be mortified at the insinuation but it’s funny and what he doesn’t know (and what they don’t know) can’t hurt him. She’s sad to see the shirt go, it’s a door closed, but relieved of its burden she can breathe again. Feels Foyet leave her completely.

JJ goes unburdened.

That old shirt is a comfort. She nurses Henry through fevers in it. Uses its edge to wipe his tears from his face. It’s always at the top of her laundry basket, the first thing she puts on when she gets home from a rough case. Will isn’t sure where she got it from because he knows it’s not his. It’s not the first time JJ’s stolen someone else’s clothes (he’s picked up enough of them to know that Reid wears a size small, that dark shirts sized medium are Morgan, and that white t-shirts in a medium are Hotch’s). He thinks it’s cute, she’s been stealing his shirts for as long as he’s known her.

In October, the fall of the same year that Emily leaves for Interpol, JJ gets held up in a meeting with Hotch. Something to do the with Department of Justice and all she manages to get out over the phone is that she’s absolutely pissed and Reid can just faintly hear Hotch offering her a coffee before she thanks him and the line goes dead. Will is on night shift and he can’t come home. So Reid fills in, their impromptu babysitter for the night.

It’s fine, calm… for the most part.

Reid lasts about an hour and a half before he finds himself in need of a change of clothes. He’s got pumpkin all over him and his fun little idea to let Henry carve a baby pumpkin was obviously a bad idea. He just didn’t know that in advance. He’s watched Jack enough times to feel fully confident in his skills but the age gap between Henry and Jack is severe. There are a lot of developmental differences in children only two years apart in age, Reid was not prepared for that.

He feels weird about stealing a shirt but his own is soaked in pumpkin guts and Henry’s bathwater.

JJ doesn’t notice the shirt exchange. She just grins at the sight of Spencer and Henry curled up on the couch, Will sitting beside them eating popcorn while “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” plays softly.

Three days later Morgan sees his shirt on the back of the couch. It’s been washed and is waiting to be returned to JJ but he knows damn well that it’s his. “How the hell did you find this?” Morgan asks, lifting it up. Reid had called him over to fix a leaking pipe (Reid is supposed to call his Super who has a mechanic who can do it but he’s too anxious for that) and Morgan was less than prepared to find his missing shirt.

Reid frowns, confused, “that’s JJ’s. I borrowed it Thursday night when I babysat.”

Morgan shakes his head, no this is his shirt. He’s sure of it. It’s been gone for years. He thought the washing machine ate it. He couldn't remember where else it would have gone off to. That or he left it in some hotel but here it is. Grey and worn and soft, it’s his.

He takes it to work in his go-bag and all but rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he watches Garcia stumble and drench herself in cold, left-over tea. He stands from his desk, sighing hard, “it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.”

He’s never getting this shirt back.

[ragingbookdragon]

It's As Real As You And Me

Batsis x Kyle Rayner One-Shot

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst,

Author's Note: If you cry while writing, it means you're doing it right...right? -Thorne

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

“Do we have to get out of bed today?” he groaned, silencing the alarm that had been snoozed at least three times before. “I don’t wanna get out of bed today.”

She snorted at him, rolling rather slowly to face his bedside. “I don’t think we have to.” She said. “We’re old. We can do whatever we want.”

He thought for a moment, old eyes trying to focus on the woman beside him; but without his glasses he couldn’t see a damn thing. “Breakfast at Pop’s?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she replied, rising from the bed. “I’m showering first.”

“Oh no you don’t!” he retorted, trying to hurry after her and she laughed, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Stop that, Kyle, before you pop your hip outta place again.”

“Ah, it’ll pop back in, (Y/N). Quit worrying.”

(Y/N) frowned at him, pointing, “You keep on and I’ll talk the kids into putting us into an old folks’ home so I can keep an eye on you better.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Kyle griped. “We’d lose the only independence we’ve got, and you don’t wanna do that.”

They glared at each other for a minute before smiles split across their faces and they fell into laughter, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

He gently raised a hand, caressing her cheek. “And I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” Pecking her lips three times, he pulled away and she helped him to his feet.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ready.” She said and he gasped dramatically.

“Well, Missus Rayner, you want to fool around in the shower? At our age?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“God, it’s been like seven decades and you’re still the biggest skirt chasing dork ever.”

Kyle grinned at her. “I try.”

***

“Did KJ call you back like he said he was going too?”

“Mhm,” he answered, cutting into the waffles on his plate. “Spoke to him last night. Said he’d call again after he and Thomas get back from Vermont with Sophia and the other grandkids.” He looked at her, putting the fork in his mouth. “Martha Ann call you about Devin?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yes. He’s gotten in trouble with GCPD again.” She waved it off, picking up her coffee cup. “I’ve half a mind to tell her to send our grandson to Jason and let him sort that boy out.”

Kyle snorted. “Jason would wear that kid like a slipper.”

“That’s what he needs.” She shot back. “This is the second time in a month that he’s been caught shoplifting. Mark my words, husband of mine, that boy’s a kleptomaniac and if Martha Ann doesn’t do something about it, he’s going to get worse.”

He placed a hand on hers. “You’re getting worked up again. Relax.”

“How many times have I told you not to tell me to relax?”

“I don’t know, how many times have I not listened?”

“Ass.”

“Old lady.”

“I swear I’ve never seen two elderly people more in love and so at odds with one another than I have you two.” They glanced up, seeing Stacy with the coffee pot and another plate of eggs and bacon. “Refills?”

(Y/N) smiled and held out her cup. “Thanks Stacy.”

“Of course!” she looked at her. “You two going anywhere after this?”

Kyle met (Y/N)’s gaze and offered a shrug; she nodded. “I suppose we could take a drive around the countryside. You know, like old people do on Sundays.”

Stacy laughed. “Missus Rayner, you don’t look a day over twenty-five. Now Mister Rayner, I’m afraid that white hair of yours tells me you are more than a few over twenty-five.”

He scowled at the waitress. “If there was ever a time I wish was still in my twenties, it’d be now.” He gestured to the walking cane. “Bum hip. Bum leg.”

“Bum head.” (Y/N) coughed under her breath and he glared at her.

“You think you’re funny.”

“I think I’m adorable.” She smirked, waggling her brows and Stacy merely laughed, wandering back into the kitchen. (Y/N) sighed. “It does make you think though…about the old days.”

Kyle nodded. “I wouldn’t trade our time for anything but...” he squeezed her hand. “I want to be back in that suit just for a minute.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah…patrolling with dad and Dick and the others.” Her eyes started to moisten, and she inhaled sharply, dabbing at her eyes. “Sorry sweetheart.”

His smile held sympathy. “You never have to apologize, muse.” She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “I miss them too.” His voice was rather hoarse, and they sat in silence the rest of the meal, remembering their dearest siblings and friends who’d passed on. Her father Bruce, and oldest brother Dick, both their wives too. And Kyle’s closest friends had all gone on too; Guy, John, and Hal had passed the month before.

The price of getting old, they guessed.

***

“I wish my hands were still able to hold pencils like I once could.”

(Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder, eyes scanning the expanse of the sunset before them. “I know what you mean.” She inhaled the scent of the freshly cut grass beside the shore. “Your painting of this would be beautiful.”

Kyle hummed. “Not as beautiful as you are.”

“I’m ninety-two and you’re telling me that even covered in wrinkles and white hair that I’m prettier than the skyline?”

He nodded. “Always have been.” He shifted until he could see her face. “Always will be, my beautiful muse.”

(Y/N) grinned like the heavens had split and leaned close, pecking his three times lips. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.”

***

She turned the burner off, pouring the gravy into the boat, before setting it on the small table. “Dinner’s ready.” She called towards the living room. He’d gone into the old study when they’d gotten home and pulled out his art supplies, determined to prove he still had it.

(Y/N) frowned. “Sweetheart, dinner’s ready!” she called a little louder that time and then huffed a laugh. “Fool fell asleep.”

Wandering through the kitchen doorway into the living room, she saw him in his recliner, chin tucked into his chest, eyes closed. She sat on the side of his recliner and touched his shoulder. “Kyle, dinner’s on the table.” He didn’t open his eyes and she bent her head down to look at his face. “Kyle?”

She reached down and took one of his hands, it was cooling. “Sweetheart?” Something tightened in her throat and with her other hand, she gently pressed underneath his jaw, holding for a few seconds before she let out a pained breath. “Oh, Kyle.”

(Y/N) curled her hand tighter around his, leaning down to press her lips to his temple. She couldn’t bring herself to move as she let out a quiet sob, pressing her face into his hair. “I love you,” she whispered. “I hope you know that.” Her lips wobbled and tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I wouldn’t trade our seventy-five years for anything. We lived a beautiful life.”

She pulled away and gently took his glasses off his face, setting them onto the table. Her eyes fell to his lap where his other hand lay, a color pencil still held in it. (Y/N) felt a watery laugh bubble in her chest as she saw the last masterpiece he’d ever made.

A portrait of the sunset they'd been looking at that day. A beautiful blend of red, orange, pink, and purple cascading across the sheet like an explosion of the sky.

Her eyes fell across the words written in white along the edge,

To my beautiful muse. Always and forever.

He still had it.

And it was perfect.

***

“Julia, can you push me out onto the patio?” she asked, looking out the window. “I think I wanna sit outside for a few moments.”

The young woman, no older than twenty-two smiled brightly. “Of course, Miss Rayner!” she happily complied, pushing (Y/N)’s wheelchair out onto the cobblestone patio, sitting her next to the table. “Do you want me to bring your dinner to you?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Julia wandered off and she glanced towards the skyline. It had been about six months since she let her children talk her into getting an in-home nurse after he had passed. She had argued, but after falling twice, she knew it was time to have someone look after her. (Y/N) was adamant about not going to a senior citizens home; she wanted to stay in the home her and him had built until she went too.

Her children and grandchildren had visited her the week before, all having to return to their lives once school had started and jobs went back. She understood—(Y/N)’d once been a busy wife and mother too. But it was lonely without him, and she missed him dearly.

Her eyes found the skyline again and she sighed heavily, feeling rather tired all of the sudden. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. And she knew Julia wasn’t the best cook so it’d take a while before dinner would be ready.

Just a few minutes of sleep.

Just a few minutes.

Just a few—

***

A warm breeze blew across her skin, and she cracked her eyes open, glancing out the open window of her bedroom. It felt like a normal Saturday morning. The type of mornings where she’d wake up to Tim or Damian jumping on her bed and telling her to get down to breakfast.

She blinked a few moments, not registering a thing until someone chuckled beside her. “You’ve been sleeping pretty soundly, sweetheart.”

Looking over, her eyes widened as she saw her father before her, young and handsome like he’d once been, sitting on the side of her bed. “Dad?” she breathed, and he smiled.

“Hello (Y/N).”

She shot up in a second, wrapping her arms around his neck, his own winding around her waist. “Dad,” she cried, tears gathering in her eyes. “You’re here.”

“I think it’s you who’s here, (Y/N).”

“What?” she pulled away and looked at him; her eyes drifted to the mirror hanging beside her door and she caught sight of herself—it registered as she lifted her hands to her face, no more wrinkles, no more snow-white hair, no more aches and pains.

“Looks like I fell asleep for more than a few minutes, didn’t I, dad?” she laughed, though she felt a deep sorrow.

He smiled sadly at her. “It’s the best way to go.”

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears, and she gazed at him. “I’ve missed you so much, dad.”

“I’ve missed you more, sweetheart.” Bruce replied, gently thumbing her cheek. “All of you.” He smiled again. “But you’re here now…and there’s a lot of people waiting to see you.”

Standing from the bed, he held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him pull her up; he walked over to the door and opened it, pulling her along as he stepped through it.

The scenery shifted from that of her bedroom to the backyard of Wayne Manor and she looked out to a large picnic table and seated around it were all the family and friends she’d lost through the decades. Dick was waving like a maniac, Kori beside him doing the same. They both looked young too. Hal, Guy, and John were sitting on the other side, ribbing Wally, Roy, and Garth over something; they too were young.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why is everybody young again?”

Bruce hummed. “We all return to the best moments in our lives. When we were our biggest and greatest.” He glanced over her at something and smiled. “There’s someone who’s been waiting for you.”

(Y/N) looked at him with pulled brows then over in the direction he was, and she brought a hand to her mouth. She broke into a dead sprint across the backyard, leaping into his open and waiting arms. He lifted her with ease, like he used to do when he was young. Spinning them around, he buried his face in her hair as she buried hers in his shoulder as she shook with sobs.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to have dinner with you one last time, (Y/N).”

She pulled away and placed her hands on his cheek, putting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you, Kyle.”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “You were there.” He reached up, putting a hand on her cheek. “You look as beautiful as the day I left you.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, but she smiled widely. “I love you, Kyle Rayner.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Rayner.” He pecked her lips three times. “Forever.”

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter thirty-five

Welcome to the shitshow! Remember that I love y’all <3

Warnings: arguing, fighting, tension, angst

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Thirty-Five: I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

The tearful phone call with your mom lasts for nearly four hours.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I don’t want to leave the BAU.”

“I know, honey.”

“And I’m not going to,” you say firmly, wiping your cheeks on the back of your hand. “I didn’t let Trevor stop me from accepting that job with the BCI, I’m not letting this stop me from staying in the BAU. I’m better than that.”

“I know, baby.”

“And I want Aaron, I do, but if it’s at this cost, then I…” You don’t even want to say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him?” Your mom asks gently.

You shake your head. “Haley surprised him at the office earlier with Jack, so I’m sure he’s hanging out with Jack for the rest of the day. He might spend the night, too.”

“Hm,” your mom sighs. “Is he trying to get back together with her?”

“Not that I know of.” You pause. “I don’t think he is. I know him, he’d…he’d tell me if they were, right? Or if she had asked about it?”

“I want to say that he would, honey, but I don’t know. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know he loves you, but…”

“But what?”

“Marriage…” Your mom sighs. “When you marry someone, especially as young as the two of them were, the bond is different. Add a child into the mix and it’s…it’s hard to let go of.” She pauses. “I never told you this, but letting go of your father was the hardest decision I ever had to make.”

“You told me it was the easiest.”

“Because I had to tell myself that. If I told myself anything else, I wouldn’t have had the courage to leave. I had to convince myself I could do it, and that meant letting you know that I could. I didn’t want you to think our independence should be held hostage from us.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying, I know you love him, and I know he loves you. But you’re still young. And whatever your future looks like, as long as it has the best version of you, then it’s enough. Everything else will sort itself out. But you have to be there and be the best you before everything else can fall into place around you.”

+++

When you head into the BAU the next day, you go straight to Hotch’s office. You don’t stop at your desk, or Morgan’s when he calls out to you (though you do wave at him, and Emily too).

“Come in,” Hotch announces after hearing a knock, unaware that it’s you.

“Hey,” you say to get his attention. “Can we talk?”

Immediately, he stands, rounding his desk to gather you in his arms. “Hey, of course. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you last night.”

“It’s okay,” you pause to accept his kiss. “I was on the phone with my mom for a while anyway.”

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes and no,” you exhale nervously, stepping out of his arms, needing to ground yourself. “That’s why I came straight here.”

“Okay…” He steps over and shuts the door, gesturing for you to continue.

“When I was called into Strauss’s office yesterday, it wasn’t about being back. It wasn’t routine. It was because she knows about us.”

“I know.”

You freeze, mouth open and ready to speak, but you shut it slowly, processing his words. “What do you mean you know?”

“I talked with her yesterday before I left.”

“And you didn’t think to text me about it yesterday?”

Aaron watches you carefully. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t tell me the real reason Strauss talked to you either.”

“Because Haley was here with Jack!” You argue. “I wasn’t going to bring that up in front of them.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“What did Strauss talk to you about?” You ask, not wanting to stay near the topic of Haley for too long. “Was it just about her knowing about us?”

Aaron looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but you stare him down until he does. “Yes. And she asked if you had been…inappropriately pushing yourself onto me.”

“What?”

“I told her you had done nothing like that whatsoever,” he says quickly and firmly, wanting you to hear him. “But she did ask that your behavior be monitored for the time being.”

“For the— Hotch, are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you agreed to that?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could’ve told her that our relationship is mutually consensual and none of her business.”

He gives you a look because you both know he couldn’t tell Strauss it’s “none of her business,” but you still wish he had. You could certainly never say something like that to her, but he could almost definitely get away with it. You’d be surprised if he hasn’t said something similar to Strauss before this.

“I didn’t want to confirm anything about us and risk your termination as an agent in the bureau.”

“Well, thank you for your concern, but Strauss very politely told me yesterday that I need to pick a transfer before she forces me out of here.”

“What?”

“She talked to me about transferring the entire time,” you cry. “She told me I’m young, I don’t need to go to extreme lengths to prove myself and better my skillset.”

“It’s true, you don’t.”

“She thinks I’m sleeping with you to do exactly that.”

Aaron sighs heavily. “I told her that you’re not.”

“She’s not going to believe it. She obviously didn’t believe you since my behavior is now going to be monitored like I’m a fucking child.”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Hotch says. “And I wish I didn’t have to agree with her. But if these are some small prices we have to pay, then…we have to pay them.”

It sounds good. In theory. It sounds right.

But it’s wrong.

“No,” you shake your head. “Because they’re not prices that we’re paying. It’s all coming down on me. And I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Y/N…” He hates that you feel this way, and part of him knows you’re right.

“I know we said we would wait before telling Strauss, but that was before she found out. She already knows now, so why don’t we go to her ourselves and tell her how serious we are?”

You thought he’d be all for this idea. But he shakes his head.

“It isn’t that simple.” He pauses. “She also mentioned others overhearing our…less than appropriate comments to one another.”

“You mean yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hotch, I told you before we even started any of this that we needed to stay professional. Your good girl comments here and there surely weren’t peak professionalism.”

“If it’s been making you uncomfortable, why haven’t you stopped me?”

“Because I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you cry. “I never was, and I never am around you. I knew we were pushing it, but I didn’t think about stopping.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“It’s fine—”

“No, Y/N, as unit chief, I should’ve known better.”

“Okay…” You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to keep going. “Okay?”

“I think it would be best if you and I take a step back from our relationship until this all settles down.”

You blink. “What?”

“I knew since the beginning that something like this could happen,” he pauses. “And I’ve worried for a while now that our relationship is too…inappropriate.” Pause. “That it’s putting a strain on the team and our jobs.”

“How long is a while?” You ask. And when he doesn’t reply, you demand an answer. “Hotch. How long have you been thinking like this?”

“Since the night you were shot,” he admits quietly, “and we almost lost you.”

“Since…” You cut yourself off out of sheer disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve been thinking like this for…for the past six months?”

“Y/N—”

“All this time we’ve been together, and you’ve just been waiting to break up with me.”

“I want to be with you, but our jobs…”

“And if I transfer somewhere else? What then?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your job here for our relationship.”

“And if I do?”

He says nothing.

You figure that’s enough of an answer.

“Do you need me for anything today?” You ask. “For work.”

“No,” he murmurs.

“I’ll be going home, then,” you say. “Have a good rest of your day.”

+++

Down in the bullpen, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia have been watching your conversation with Hotch unfold through the cracks in the blinds of his office. He didn’t close them all the way, so Spencer has been able to lip read.

But as soon as Spencer realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere good, he stopped.

When you open the door to Hotch’s office, you’re not surprised at all to find the team staring up at you. You ignore eye contact with every single one of them as you skip down the steps, heading straight for the glass doors.

Hotch stands in the doorway of his office, watching you go, watching Garcia and Emily run after you.

Standing outside the elevator, shaking with frustration, and holding back your tears as hard as you can, refusing to cry here.

“Okay, what just happened?” Pen asks, and you almost don’t hear her because you can barely see straight anyway.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Or—I don’t know. I don’t actually know what just happened to me. God, can this thing hurry up?” You press the call button a few more times.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Emily replies.

“It looked like—Wait.” Pen stops, her eyes wide. “Did you—”

Finally, the elevator doors open.

“Did you break up?” Emily finishes, sadness all over her face.

“I don’t know,” you reply, stepping inside the elevator. “Ask him, I guess.”

You reach over and almost press the ground floor, but at the last second, you hit Strauss’s floor number.

You wave sadly at Pen and Emily, and as the doors close, you catch a glimpse of Hotch standing at the glass doors.

I can always return to the BAU someday, you tell yourself. Maybe this is a sign that I’m needed somewhere else.

After Aaron sees the elevator doors close, he knows right then that he’s lost you.

Next chapter

[tricksters-captain]

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment. 

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week. 

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks. 

Your first front page piece for Chess Review. 

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills. 

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it. 

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie. 

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment. 

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man. 

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top. 

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp. 

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page. 

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not. 

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work. 

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it. 

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament. 

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock. 

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him. 

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly. 

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see). 

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing. 

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely. 

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried. 

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?” 

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?”  You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter. 

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?” 

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked. 

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style. 

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down. 

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu. 

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall. 

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you. 

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond. 

You found yourself looking at the books again. 

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call. 

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick. 

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!” 

“It sounds awful.”  You chuckled, 

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You lied. 

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?” 

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York. 

“He did?!” Angie gasped. 

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained. 

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times. 

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued. 

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned. 

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.” 

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again. 

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea. 

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!” 

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down. 

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested. 

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside. 

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point. 

There was a sudden knock at your door. 

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be. 

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again. 

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door. 

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there. 

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts. 

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“Well,  you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged. 

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered. 

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway. 

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed. 

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart. 

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you. 

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain. 

“I––” He cut you short. 

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke. 

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race. 

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.” 

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs. 

Benny fucking Watts. 

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number. 

“Bonjour?” She answered, 

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.” 

You ended up tossing and turning all night. 

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again. 

You finished it by the time the sun was rising. 

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain. 

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up. 

You set up the board and stared at it.  

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took. 

You caved. 

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying. 

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk. 

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you. 

You thanked her then sighed. 

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return. 

Then you saw it. 

Through a window of a small diner. 

The famous black hat. 

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat. 

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.  

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes. 

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully. 

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.” 

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth. 

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table.  “Let’s begin.” 

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

TAG LIST

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[willwrite4mora]

Diluc x Reader: Date with a Hero

"And he saved a group of adventurers from a horde of hilichurls last night! He's just so amazing!" you were gushing about your crush, the Darknight Hero, again. "And so mysterious," you said, drifting off into your own daydreams.

You were sitting at a table in the tavern near the bar with your colleagues Amber and Kaeya. Amber rolled her eyes in annoyance, having heard you talk about the Darknight Hero a million times already. Kaeya only smirked and let you continue rambling on.

"I wonder if he's single," you mindlessly gushed.

Kaeya started laughing. "Oh, he might be. I know someone who knows him."

You perked up. "You do?" you asked in disbelief.

"Oh yeah, Diluc knows the guy. Right, Diluc?" he turned around in his chair to look straight at Diluc who was cleaning glasses before being interrupted. He jolted in shock, not expecting to be called out like this. He glared at Kaeya as soon as he got over his initial shock.

"Wow, I knew Diluc had many connections, but I didn't know he did to this extend!" you exclaimed in surprise. Diluc just stayed silent, still glaring at Kaeya.

Kaeya just laughed again. "He sure does! I bet he could set you up on a date!" he said and continued his laughter.

Diluc's cheeks hot red. He tried so hard to stay calm, but Kaeya was trying to test his limits again. He was sure Kaeya knew about his crush on you, and this was just his stupid little way to make a fool out of him.

But you looked just too happy to resist. "Would you really do that for me?" you asked hopefully. He tried to hide his blush from you by hiding the lower half of his face behind a hand. He stayed quiet and looked away.

When you got no answer, you felt your heart sink. "Oh, I see," you said, disappointed. "I don't think the Darknight Hero would like me like that anyway. I have nothing to offer..."

Diluc's heart broke hearing you talk about yourself like that. He quickly tried to regain his composure. "I could set you up," he blurted out.

Your smile returned. "Really? Thank you so much!" you said.

Kaeya was laughing again, but Diluc decided to ignore him. "I'll prepare a luxurious dinner for the two of you at my winery. How about tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Yes!" you answered full of enthusiasm. "I'll be there at six!"

Diluc nodded. "I'll send the message," and with that he continued his work behind the counter. You continued enthusiastically conversing with Amber about your upcoming date while Kaeya couldn't seem to catch his breath laughing.

The following day at six, you were knocking on the front door of Diluc's mansion. It was a huge place, perfect for a romantic dinner. You had dressed up nicely for your date and you had done your hair and makeup as well.

A few seconds later, Diluc opened the door. "Ah, Y/N, please come in. The Darknight Hero hasn't arrived yet, but he let me know he'll be here soon," he said. He stepped out of the way for you to walk inside. Then, he closed the door behind you.

He led you into a large dining room with a large table of which only two seats at one end were set up. A candelabra with three burning candles stood in the middle between the two plates. Diluc pulled out a chair for you, directing you to sit down. He pushed the chair back as you placed yourself on it.

"Dinner will be served soon. Just a little patience," he said, before walking out of the room.

It was quite. You sat in silence and only heard the clock tick and your own heart hammer. You were so nervous to meet the amazing hero of Mondstadt. After a few minutes, you heard footsteps in the hallway near the dining room. Your heartbeat sped up.

The door opened and you looked up to see a mysterious man with an owl mask on. He really came. You were at a loss for words, only able to mutter out, "Darknight Hero..."

He looked into your eyes at the mention of his name. His flaming red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and his clothes were black. That was probably to increase his stealth in the night, but damn, did it also simply just look good on him.

"Yes, I am the Darknight Hero," he stated simply before taking a seat on the chair opposite of you. He spoke with a familiar voice, but you just shrugged off the feeling.

"So Diluc does know you personally! He never ceases to amaze me," you were thinking out loud. "I can't believe he got a real mysterious hero to go on a date with me."

He chuckled and you blushed at the wonderful sound. "I wouldn't want to miss this opportunity for the world. Fine dining with a girl as pretty as you is a rare opportunity," he charmed.

You swooned. He was such a smooth talker, sweeping you off your feet with just a few words.

A few maids stepped in with plates filled with different different dishes and set them down on the table between you. One of the maids brought in a tumbler of water and another one brought out a bottle of grape juice, filling the Darknight Hero's wine glass with it.

Once the maids stepped out of the room, you asked, "do you like grape juice more than wine?"

"I certainly do," he answered. "In fact, it's one of my favorite drinks."

You were thinking to yourself. "What a coincidence. I think that's Diluc's favorite as well."

"I-is that so?" he stuttered. He tried to avoid your eyes as he was speaking. "That certainly is a strange coincidence."

"It sure is," you said, before getting some food from the buffet the maids provided onto your plate. The Darknight Hero sighed in relief as you apparently didn't press the issue any further.

During your dinner, you two were talking about Mondstadt affairs and the like. After a few more bites, you were starting to crave some wine. You gulped down your food and said, "I think I know a wine that would go really well with these dishes. I think I'll go ask Diluc if we could get a bottle."

You got up from your seat and the Darknight Hero quickly got up as well. "Y-you don't have to ask!" he said with panic in his voice.

You were confused. "Nonsense. I can't just raid his cellar without permission," you tried to argue. "I'll go to his office and just ask. It will only take a second." You got up and quickly made your way out of the dining room, then up the stairs. Once you were outside Diluc's office, you knocked on the door.

And you waited a good few minutes without an answer. You could hear some noise behind the door, but you didn't know what was happening. "Diluc?" you asked concerned.

Seconds later, Diluc opened the door. He looked a bit disheveled. There was a small branch stuck in his hair. You felt a cold breeze come in through the open window. "Hello, Y/N. How can I help you?" he simply asked.

You stared at him for a second. "Since when do you wear your hair in a high ponytail?" you asked. You didn't think you've ever seen him with his hair up like this.

Diluc starteled, feeling his head for where he wore his ponytail. It was indeed high up. He cursed quietly, then straightened his posture again. "I sometimes do when I'm doing paperwork," he quickly said.

"Oh, alright then," you said. "I was wondering if we could get a bottle of wine from your cellar. I know one that would be great with our dinner. If you don't mind, that is."

He nodded. "Of course. Follow me." The two of you took off to the wine cellar.

Once inside, Diluc lit a candle. "Which one?" he asked.

You told him which bottle you wanted and he took it out of a large rack for you, handing it over into your hands. "Thank you so much!" you thanked him enthusiastically. "Now back to my date!" You turned around and ran up the stairs, back to the dining room.

The Darknight Hero wasn't there anymore, though. Your heart sank. Did he bail on you? He wouldn't, would he? You thought you were getting along with him just fine. You sat down on your chair, feeling defeated.

Then, through the open dining room window, in came your date. He also had a twig stuck in his hair. His mask was on a bit crooked and he was missing one glove. You were happy to see him, though, and got up from your spot in order to help him in. Not that a strong hero like him needed your help.

"Oh my! What happened?" you asked. "Did someone attack and did you have to leave?" You sounded so worried.

The Darknight Hero hastily shook his head no. "Please, don't worry. I uuuh... I just wanted to... see if the weather was nice enough for a walk," he improvised.

"A walk?" you questioned. Then you smiled at him. "What a romantic idea!" You clapped your hands together before turning around. "I'll go tell Diluc we'll be off. He's probably still in the wine cellar," you said, before turning around and making your way out of the room.

The Darknight Hero groaned loudly, but you kept going. Once in the cellar, you couldn't find Diluc anywhere. The candle was still burning. You decided to put it out before making your way back up. Once out the door of the cellar, you saw Diluc standing in the hallway, seemingly out of breath.

You ran up to him. "There you are, Diluc!" you exclaimed as you got closer. His hair was still in the high ponytail and the twig was also still stuck. He had no gloves or jacket on. You wondered where those went. Anyway, you continued to inform him, "the Darknight Hero and I will be taking a walk around the estate. I just wanted to inform you before leaving the mansion."

Diluc huffed loudly. "That... is alright..." he could barely speak between pants.

Then you noticed something that stuck to his shirt. You came closer and stepped to his side, taking a good look. Once you saw what it was, you plucked it off.

Diluc was confused at first, then saw what you were holding. It was the mask of the Darknight Hero. He just stared at you wide eyed, not sure what to say or how to get himself out of this mess.

You looked up at him and held up the mask for him to see. "Care to explain?" you asked accusingly.

He gulped. "Well..." he started, but he really didn't know what else to tell you but the truth. He took a deep breath before finally saying, "I guess you could say I've been leading a double life of sorts." He looked away guiltily, scratching with one hand behind his head.

"So you're saying that you've been the Darknight Hero all along?" you asked.

"Yeah..." he admitted.

There was a short silence between the two of you before he continued.

"I know I shouldn't have abused my position as the Darknight Hero like this, but I've liked you for a while now," he said, cheeks getting red from embarrassment. "I know whenever you were talking about the Darknight Hero, your compliments weren't for me, though they indirectly felt that way. I felt happy that you liked me back, even though it was a different version of me... I hope you aren't too angry with me."

"I cant believe the Darknight Hero likes me back!" you squealed.

Diluc was confused for a second. "You're not mad at me?"

"Oh, I'm very mad, but also very happy," you said with a smile on your face.

Diluc smiled in return. "Then how can I make it up to you?"

"Continue our date," you demanded. "But this time as Diluc."

[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter One]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Summary: After a decade of living in England, Y/N finally moves back to America to be closer to her family.

prologue / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

***

CHAPTER ONE: FAMILIAR FACES

Y/N was always one to follow her dreams. Originally her dream was to become an astronaut but she soon found that she wasn’t smart enough for that. That’s when she found herself falling down the route of art. Y/N had always been a gifted artist since she was a child. While everyone in her class was drawing stick figures and calling it a day, Y/N would take time to get the proportions of the body right. People would always say she was trying too hard or just trying to get attention. Y/N didn’t care - she was doing what she loved.

It wasn’t until high school where she began to take art more seriously, people would come to her to do art commissions. At first Y/N refused, she didn’t want to charge people for her art but once she realised how much she could make from it, doing art commissions became her job. Throughout high school it was her main source of income. However, it wasn’t until the end of high school where Y/N decided that art was the thing she definitely wanted to go down. 

Opening up her own gallery became her dream. A couple of years after breaking up with Spencer Reid, Y/N moved to England. She didn’t exactly know why, all she knew was that she wanted a fresh start. Y/N moved into a small flat in Cornwall. It was perfect for what Y/N needed. She spent just over ten years of her life living in Cornwall and Y/N couldn’t be happier, however there were many instances where she missed her family. Y/N could never afford to constantly go between England and America and neither could her family. A lot of her time was spent on phone calls and video calls with her family. 

It was only recently that Y/N moved back to America. Six months to be exact. After nearly eleven years of being away from her family constantly, Y/N decided to move back to America. She didn’t make the decision lightly, it took her many months to come to the conclusion. Y/N had many friends in England. She had her small art gallery. Most importantly, her daughter had her friends in England and her school - everything she had ever known. 

Y/N’s daughter, Harper, was seven and she was the light of Y/N’s life. Everything she did was for Harper. Y/N didn’t want to pry Harper away from her home, but she wanted her to get to know her family. When Y/N told Harper the news, Harper was excited, she had always been a curious girl and moving to a new country was exciting for her. 

“Mummy!” Harper yelled, running out of her room to Y/N who was sitting on the couch. Her daughter’s accent was a little messed up. Some words would come out in an American accent and some in a British accent - more specifically the Cornish dialect. 

Y/N smiled upon seeing her daughter. As she ran, the wild curls on top of her head bounced up and down. Harper approached Y/N and climbed onto the couch next to her. Y/N wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her in close to her side.

“What’s got you so energetic?” Y/N questioned. 

“Can we go to the park?” Harper asked, “You said that we could go today.”

Y/N checked the time on the clock on the wall, “You really want to go at ten in the morning? You don’t want to wait until midday then we can go out for lunch?”

“Can we go now? I’m bored.” Harper draped herself over Y/N’s lap dramatically.

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face. Harper was definitely one for dramatics, something she inherited from her father.

“Okay, how about this?” Y/N started, “We wait until eleven and we can invite Melanie and Toby and we can go and get lunch with them?”

Harper nodded her head vigorously causing Y/N to chuckle slightly. The only reason as to why Y/N wanted to wait longer to go out was because she was waiting for Harper’s birthday present to turn up. It wasn’t her birthday for another three weeks but Y/N always wanted to leave time in case the package never turned up in case she needed to buy something else. 

“Why don’t you go and play in your room and I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go?”

Harper nodded before running off to her bedroom down the hall. Checking the clock again, Y/N realised the package wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Deciding she had time to kill, Y/N made her way to her bedroom to get changed. If she was going to be out for most of the day, she decided that being in sweatpants and an old shirt wasn’t going to look so good. 

Picking out a simple sundress, Y/N got changed in a flash before she found herself seated on the couch again. Over the last few days, Y/N had found herself being more tired than usual. Everything she did drained the life out of her, obviously she wanted to run around and play with Harper but she would tire out quickly. Harper would try not to get sad about it as she understood why Y/N got like this once a year. Y/N wasn’t going to explain it until Harper got a little older but she understood perfectly. 

Grabbing her phone off of the coffee table, Y/N pressed on Melanie’s contact. Melanie had been Y/N’s friend for a while. They met a year before Y/N had moved to England, due to their long distance friendship, Y/N had expected that they would fall out of contact but they never did. Melanie was godmother to Harper and Y/N was godmother to Melanie’s son Toby. 

The phone rang a few times before Melanie picked up. 

“Hello?” Melanie’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey Mel!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Well Harper and I are going to the park in an hour and I was wondering if you and Toby would like to join us?” 

“We’d love to,” Melanie answered, “Toby’s been pulling my leg asking when he would see Harper next.”

Y/N chuckled, “We’ll meet you at the park if that’s alright.”

“That’s more than fine, we’ll see you then.” Melanie responded before hanging up the phone. 

Y/N tossed her phone back on the couch and slumped back down. She could easily turn on the television and watch something but she didn’t feel up to it. Getting back up from the couch, Y/N headed over to Harper’s room and pushed it open. Her daughter was hunched over her small desk, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Y/N smiled at the sight. Her daughter had taken after her in artistic skill, always having the dream that one day she would be as good as her mother. 

“Hey Harp.” Y/N said, entering her room. 

“Mummy, look I’ve done a drawing!” Harper said excitedly holding up the picture, “It’s the same one you painted.”

Y/N took the drawing out of Harper’s hands and held it up. Y/N had painted a landscape of a forest a few weeks ago and Harper had copied it almost exactly. Every time Y/N would do a commission or a painting for fun, there would always be smaller versions of the same painting but made with colour pencil. Sometimes Harper would sit next to Y/N while she was painting and they would do it together. 

Y/N always enjoyed doing art with Harper by her side. She would constantly ask questions about it and Y/N was always more than happy to answer. From sitting next to her and watching her paint, Harper had been teaching herself how to paint. Y/N would always offer to help her but Harper always refused the help, letting Y/N only watch from a distance. Their whole house was filled with paintings from both Y/N and Harper. 

“It’s incredible, Harp.” Y/N said crouching down, “Even better than mine.”

“No it isn't, your one is better.” Harper said, “Yours are always better. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of Harper’s head, “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be like you. You are going to grow up and be an extraordinary person, like you already are.”

Harper hugged Y/N tightly, “I love you mummy.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of her head once more before she heard the doorbell ring. 

“Is that Melanie and Toby?” Harper questioned.

“No, it’s someone else, Mel and Toby are meeting us at the park,” Y/N explained, “Now why don’t you clean up in here before we head out.”

Harper nodded before she began clearing everything away. Y/N headed out of her room and opened the front door. Y/N expected it to be Harper’s present however she was greeted by two people - more specifically FBI agents. Y/N looked between the two, very obviously confused. 

When Y/N looked up at the male agent, her eyes widened the slightest amount. His hair was curlier and he had a slight stubble. He looked as if he filled out his clothes more as well. Even if it had been more than a decade, she could recognise him anywhere. 

Spencer Reid.

PERMANENT SPENCER REID TAGLIST

@spenxerslut  @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur

SERIES TAGLIST

​@its-9pm @nani-2305 @reidsfish @mochionly @spencerswildestdreams1 @magnetas @matthewscumslut @madsgraygubler @bakugouswh0r3 @rexit-mo @shinshankai

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.  

“I always do.”

~

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man,  I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Three

A/N: Here is part 3!! Sorry it had taken so long, I had gone back and forth on deciding if this would be the last part or not. I decided to make it an even four so there will be a Part Four! Hope you enjoy. It’s another chapter of angst! (What’s new) All mistakes are my own! 

Part One|Part Two

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: swearing, angst 

You sat awkwardly between Scott and Lisa as they continued to have a conversation that you were trying your hardest to pay attention to but you were having no such luck. Your gaze and your mind kept wandering over to your best friend who was currently standing in the corner talking with a buddy. Chris’s eyes darted towards yours and you immediately diverted your eyes anywhere else. 

You had been doing this for the last two hours. Neither of you is willing to make the first move to go over and talk to each other. It had been three weeks since the incident during the girls night. Chris had texted you about twenty minutes after you left, but you didn’t respond. That became a trend for about two weeks before he just stopped texting you all together. Quite frankly you had forgotten about the bitch incident two days after the fact. But you kept telling yourself that putting space between the two of you was what you needed to get over these feelings that you just couldn’t get rid of. 

Because six months of being in a different country wasn’t space enough. 

And you know what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

But Carissa had insisted that you come to her little birthday gathering that she was having at the house. So now here you were, being completely miserable in a room full of party goers.

You turned your focus back on the other Evans’ in your life and smiled when Lisa made a joke, but still contributed very little to the conversation. 

“I’m going to go get a refill.” You wiggled your half empty cup for emphasis before excusing yourself. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed the kitchen was fairly empty, only a couple that you didn’t recognize talking in the corner. You grabbed the pitcher of margaritas and filled your glass before taking a huge sip and then filling it again.

“Margaritas that good?” You spun around at the unfamiliar voice. Your face grew hot as you came face to chest with a very tall, very handsome man. His dark eyes were raised in question but his lips were settled in a knowing smirk. “Or are they just bad enough to make you forget something you don’t want to remember?” 

“A little bit of both.” You replied, taking another sip. Mystery man laughed and you smiled. He reached past you to grab his own cup to fill up. 

“I’m Marcus.” He said simply, his eyes raking up and down your body. You internally rolled your eyes but decided to play along. He was hot and you were lonely. 

“Y/N.” You held your hand out to his. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” He smirked. 

“So how do you know Carissa?” 

“I don’t, funny enough.” He explained. “I’m here with a friend.” 

“Ahh.” You raised your eyebrow asking the silent question. 

“His name is Brady.” Marcus laughed. 

“I see.” You took another sip of your margarita, a smile hiding behind the cup. 

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

You were shocked at how much fun you were having talking to Marcus. He was funny and charming and knew all the things to say to make you blush and yet you couldn’t help that your eyes would wander over to where Chris was sitting, Carissa perched on his lap. 

Your attention was snapped back to Marcus when you felt his hand rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips. 

“Sorry, you have a little…” He trailed off as he wiped his thumb across your parted lips. 

You were sure he was going to kiss you.

And you were sure that you might just kiss him back. 

Marcus leaned forward and you felt your eyes flutter close, anticipating the kiss. But it never came. 

“Hey.” You and Marcus both turned to see Chris stalking towards you, his eyes narrowed. 

“Hey man,” Marcus moved away and reached out his hand but Chris didn’t slow down. You watched in horror as Chris walked right up to the two of you and threw a punch hitting Marcus square in the face.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You cried out as Marcus fell to the ground clutching his nose. Chris stood over him, his shoulders rising with anger and his fists still clenched. “Chris!” His eyes snapped to yours and they softened slightly. 

“What the hell dude?” Marcus groaned from the floor. 

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Chris growled. 

Marcus stood up with the help of some other people before being escorted out of the kitchen, leaving just you and Chris and the small pool of blood on the floor. 

You looked down at Chris’s hand which was covered in blood. At first you thought it was just Marcus’s but then you realized that there was a large cut running across his knuckles. Sighing you pushed him out of the kitchen towards his bedroom and to his ensuite. 

“Sit down.” You pushed him onto the toilet before going to the cabinet where you knew the first aid kit was. “I can’t believe you.” 

“You can’t believe me?” Chris snapped. “What the hell were you doing with that guy? In my goddamn kitchen no less.” 

“We were having a conversation, you Neanderthal.” You answered, as you rinsed off his cut. Chris hissed in pain as you ran an alcohol wipe over his knuckle. 

“Looked like more than that.” 

“So what if it was, Chris. And if I remember correctly, it was only a couple weeks ago that you and Carissa were telling me to get out there and meet someone.” You raised your eyebrow slightly. 

“She said that, not me.” Chris looked away from you. 

“So what? I’m just supposed to stay single? Is that it? I’m not good enough for your friends? Or do you really think that there’s no one out there that can be with me?” 

Chris’s eyes snapped to yours, the blue darkening. “First of all that jackass is not my friend. And second of all, I didn’t say that. If anything you are too good for the losers out there. You’re too good for anybody.” 

“Well then who?  Who gets the Chris Evans stamp of approval? Please tell me, so I can go and find him.”

“I don’t know! Just not that guy.” Chris stood up towering over you. 

“God, you know you are so fucking annoying.” You pushed against his chest as you turned to walk away from him.  “I’m just trying to be happy. Why can’t you just let me be happy?” 

“You’re going to be happy with that jerkoff?” Chris stepped closer to you. He pulled you back towards him, spinning you around so that you were looking at him. He lifted your chin so you were eye to eye. “You think that guy is the one that’s going to give you everything that you need? That you deserve?” 

“Well the guy that I want I can’t have, so I guess he’ll have to do.” Your heart fluttered as you realized just how close you and Chris had gotten. Your noses were touching and your lips just a breath away from each other. Chris leaned forward slightly, his mouth open but no words coming out. 

“I’m sorry.” Chris sighed, his head dropping. 

“For what? Punching out the first guy to take interest in me or calling me a bitch?” 

Chris winced, his eyes full of regret. He looked like he was about to respond when a voice interrupted the both of you. 

“Chris? Y/N?” You and Chris immediately separated at the sound of Scott’s voice echoing through the bedroom and into the bathroom. 

“In here.” Chris cleared his throat as he called out to his brother. 

“Jesus Christ, Chris. What was that?” Scott threw his hands up. “Carissa is pissed.” 

“I know. I just…” Chris trailed off as he cast a sideways glance in your direction. You refused to look at him, only focusing on the pattern of the floor tile. Chris let out a sigh as he rubbed his face with his good hand. “I’ll go talk to her. Where is she?” 

“Last I saw she stepped outside to check on the guy you fucking decked.” 

Chris just nodded, looking at you once more before brushing past Scott and out the door. 

You and Scott stood there in silence. 

“So how long?” He asked, finally breaking the void.

You looked up at the younger Evans brother, whose hands were now on his hips. 

“What?” 

“How long are you and my idiot older brother going to pretend that you aren’t madly in love with each other.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach at Scott’s words. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stated incredulously. 

“I’m talking about the fact that my brother basically broke some poor guy’s nose for even looking in your direction. Or how you guys have been looking at each other like forlorn lovers this entire night.” 

You turned your head away. 

“It’s not like that, Scott.” You whispered. “He’s my-he doesn’t look at me like that.” 

“Sweetheart, are you dumb or are you stupid.” Scott’s words held a joking air to them. He stepped closer to you and took your hands in his. “You should tell him how you feel.” 

“Scott, stop.” Your eyes blurred with tears. “I love him, he’s my best friend and I’m not willing to lose his friendship over a stupid crush that will eventually go away.” 

“Honey, if it hasn’t gone away in the last five years it’s not going away anytime soon.” 

You stared at him with wide eyes as you processed what he said. 

“You think I didn’t know this whole time? Hell, I think the only person who didn’t know was Chris.” 

“Oh god.” You groaned, dropping your head. You were officially embarrassed. Had it really been that obvious for so long? 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.” Scott soothed as he  grabbed your hands. 

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come anyway.” You mumbled as you pulled away from Scott. 

“Y/N...you don’t have to leave.” 

“Yes I do.” You shook your head, refusing to look at him. You booked it out of the room and down the hallway, making every effort to avoid anyone and everyone. You walked out to your car and paused as you noticed Chris and Carissa standing by the side of the house. You tried to walk by without them noticing you but as you heard Carissa’s voice call out to you. You had a choice: stop and talk to her or walk the five steps to your car and leave the night behind you. 

Before you could truly over think you rushed to your car, got in and drove off. 

Tags:

@username23345 @thesecretlifeofdaydreams @stopbeingcurious​ @lharrietg​ @officalmarvelwhore @memoriesat30​ @mydarlingharry​ @kelbabyblue​ @evansphnx12​ @thegreentwin @denisemarieangelina​ @joannie95​ @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans​ @jennamarieee623​ @undecidedsworld​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @lovelyladymayyy​ @mindfreakswaggy​ @before-we-get-started​ @patzammit​ 

[watchmegetobsessed]

IN YOUR MEMORIES

a/n: alright so this was inspired by an amazing fic called Graveyard by @wkemeup​ if you haven’t read it... WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??? honestly, i was amazed by the whole idea of having to “pay a price” for a super power and i’ve been really itching to try myself out in this concept, so that’s what this story is. im really excited to share this with you guys so i hope you’ll like it!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: a hell lot of Bucky’s past pain, a little bit of angst aaand idk im really bad with these warnings

word count: 7.6k

masterlist

“I’ve been trying to figure out an effective way to help him, but it’s been more complicated than I expected. None of my ideas were good enough to even attempt them.” Shuri lets out a frustrated sigh as you stare at the peaceful face of the sleeping man in front of you in the cryo pod. The glass in front of his face is frosty, but you can still make his sharp features out, his chiseled jawline under the stubble, the elegant line of his nose and the thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as his eyes are shut closed.

“His whole mind needs to be rewired, his corrupted memories should be replaced or wiped out so the trigger words wouldn’t work any longer, but I can’t do that on my own.”

Tearing your gaze away from the man you look at her, an apologetic expression adorning her features, because she swore you’d find shelter in Wakanda, a place where you can be just like anyone else and yet, she is now asking you to use your power.

“Do you think he would let me help him?” you ask, glancing back at the man. Bucky, as Shuri called him, doesn’t look as old as he was said to be. A hundred and six years is a lot for a human like him, though he is not as mortal as others on the planet. Shuri told you about the experiments he had to endure through his life and even though you haven’t even touched his mind, you could feel the pain inside you.

“He is desperate to get rid of his dark side, I think he would do anything.”

Reaching up your fingers graze the glass over his face before you plant your whole palm onto it, trying to feel him even under the surface and ice. Eyes shutting close, you take a deep breath as you let your senses open up and find your way to the man.

Because of the cryo pod, you don’t feel him the way you usually do. It’s like he is just an echo in a huge empty room, you can’t make out his whole mind, but he is there. And even with him sleeping under the ice, you still can feel the despair and pain he had to go through as an innocent man. You know he deserves to be saved, he deserves to be freed from his own past and you are his only chance as of right now.

“Wake him up,” you simply tell Shuri before turning around to go back to your room that was assigned to you upon your arrival in the palace.

Bucky doesn’t feel like he has been asleep under the ice for more than just a few hours. It felt like a nap, but in reality he woke up months after the day he closed his eyes.

Shuri welcomed him with the news that the cure has been found and it’s time for him to get rid of the Winter Soldier for once and for all. She didn’t say much about the method, just told him to get ready by the afternoon.  He was never one to question the genius young girl so he just obeyed.

After a hot shower he shaved and took the time to get accustomed to the prototype of the vibranium arm Shuri left for him. It’s not the final version, a lot of details need work, but it’s good enough for his everyday life for a while.

The world hasn’t seemed to change since he last saw it. Wakanda is just as flourishing and vibrant as he remembered, a truly spectacular place in his opinion. He wonders how his friends have been, what Steve is doing, if Natasha is alright… Is Tony still fuming after their last encounter? He probably is.

When it’s time, he leaves his room and heads to Shuri’s lab for their meeting. The guards let him in with just a nod, like he is an old friend and he finds Shuri at her computer as always. The girl beams upon seeing him again, complimenting on his freshly shaved look.

“So what did you invent for me, smartpants?” he smiles at her gently. Bucky owes a lot to Shuri and her brother, they took him in when he wasn’t welcomed anywhere else and now she is about to give him his life back. After this, he’ll forever owe her and her family.

“Well, it’s not my invention this time,” she chuckles shaking her head. Bucky is about to question her when the doors open again, both of them turning in the direction just to see you walk in. His eyebrows knit together at the sight of you, not entirely sure what it’s supposed to be. “Mr. Barnes, let me introduce you to Y/N. Y/N, this is Sergeant Barnes.”

You walk closer, Bucky’s icy blue eyes are glued to your form as you stop a few feet away from him, holding out a hand shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant James Barnes,” you smile softly as his flesh hand takes yours and shakes it gently.

Bucky is enamored with you instantly. He has never seen someone as delicate, soft and charming as you are, your whole aura just demands his attention and he wants to know everything about you. But he also notices that though you look a lot like any other human on the planet, he is convinced you are not from Earth.

What he doesn’t know is that the moment your hands touch, you can hear his thoughts and you can’t push down your smile at how well he is at inspecting his surroundings.

“Just call me Bucky, please,” he nods before your hands let go of each other and his thoughts quiet down again in your head.

“To answer your suspicion, I’m rorm a planet called Lortena. Life on my planet looks a lot like humans here on Earth, but our lifespan is a little longer and some of us have gifts, as my mother always liked to call them.”

“How did you—“ “How did I know what you thought?” you ask with a small smile, finishing his sentence as he nods in complete awe. “I’m what you might call… a mind reader. But my abilities go a little farther than just reading minds,” you admit and his lips part at the revelation.

Bucky glances over at Shuri, part of him thinking it’s some kind of joke or witchcraft, but the girl smiles back at him with an assuring nod.

“Why don’t we sit down and have a chat? I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Shuri suggests patting Bucky’s shoulder before the three of you head into her conference room.

Though you’re not touching Bucky, you can sense his confusion and hunger to learn more about you. He is curious about what else you are capable of and though the news about your abilities are still quite odd to him, you can tell that he isn’t trying to shut you out entirely. He just has some reservations for now.

Bucky knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t stop himself from inspecting you. Knowing that you are not from this planet is already enough for him to get his mind racing, especially because you look just like any other humans on Earth. But the little trick you did on him was enough of a convincing for him to believe that you are from somewhere else.

The three of you sit to the table and Shuri takes the lead to start the conversation.

“While you were asleep, Sergeant, life went on and we had a lot going on,” she smiles, her eyes falling on you. “Y/N is a refugee from her planet, Lortena. There’s a war going on there and she was sent away because she was a primary target. She wasn’t supposed to end up here, but there was a little mishap during her journey and landed in Wakanda.”

“Are you targeted because of your… powers?” Bucky asks, hoping he is not asking anything offensive.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s because I’m the king’s daughter.”

“Oh!” he breathes out.

Great, so she is not only a breathtakingly beautiful creature with superpowers, but she is royal as well, he thinks to himself.

“And how… where do your… powers come from? Is that a usual thing on your planet?”

“Not quite,” you chuckle softly.

You give a glance at Shuri who nods and brings up a hologram of Loki’s scepter with the mind stone in it. Bucky is already familiar with them, but he is curiously listening to find out what it has to do with you.

“Long before the mind stone was trapped into the scepter, it was in our possession. We used it as out main power source, kept locked away from preying eyes and hands. We all knew it’s capable of more than what we use it for, but we didn’t want to risk it and use it for the wrong purposes.”

The hologram changes and now the mind stone is on display on its own.

“But not everyone agreed with that. A couple hundred years ago there was a war for the stone. Though our people sacrificed everything to protect it, they didn’t succeed entirely. Unfortunately, the attackers didn’t know how great the stone’s power is. In the midst of the chaos, there was an explosion caused by the stone. Almost everyone present was killed, only seven survived and they were blessed with different powers coming from the stone.”

Bucky’s lips part as his eyes flicker over to you from the stone in the middle of the table, while you are staring at the hologram remembering back the stories your parents told you growing up. He feels like he is being shared with an ancient legend, a piece of history that is a privilege to know.

“The powers they were gifted with were held at great heights after the war was over. And while some of them could pass it on to their children, some couldn’t. The seven became four, then just two and there was one left. My grandmother. When my father didn’t show any signs of the stone’s power it was believed the magic was gone forever, but then I was born and…”

“And you had the powers,” Bucky chimes in, completely in awe of your origin story. You nod with a shy smile as the hologram of the stone disappears in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

“And why is there a war on your planet right now?”

“Because though it’s been a miracle that I inherited my grandmother’s powers, the people want to get the stone back and have more of its powers. Unfortunately, the stone was lost through the years and I was informed that Thanos got a hold of it some time ago,” you explain, turning to Shuri for assurance about the accuracy of your words and she nods. “Who then gave it to Loki and now it’s in the scepter. People were demanding my father to start a war for the stone to get it back to Lortena, but he refused to sacrifice his army to get the stone back from a titan.” Sighing you lean back in your seat as you think about your home, your family that was left behind when your father sent you away because he was afraid the rebels would use you to get to him.

“The stone is not at Thanos’ any longer,” Bucky speaks up and your eyes find him as you snap out of your thoughts.

“I was informed of that as well. It’s um… it’s Vision’s now, right?” They both nod. “Well, the rebels think it’s Thanos’ and you better hope it stays that way. Because if they figure out that the titan doesn’t have it any longer, they won’t hesitate to attack you for the stone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of another war to take part in, but also because you had to go through such terrible events because of other’s greediness.

“I’ve been trying to find a solution to help you since you’ve gone to sleep, but I wasn’t able to come up with any,” Shuri speaks up. “But then Y/N arrived and I think she could be the one to do the job.”

“You think you can do that?” Bucky asks, eyebrows pulled together. “What else can you do, other than reading minds?”

You feel hesitant revealing the depths you’re able to reach with your abilities and you’re afraid he would find it too invading after everything he has been through. You want to help him but he has to let you. Though you’re powerful, if someone resists your attempts, the outcome won’t be the same as if they cooperated.

“If you let me… I can change your memories. I can make them appear differently in your head so what they did to you won’t have an effect on you any longer.”

Bucky’s jaw twitches. He has no idea what he was expecting, but not this for sure. Letting another person get into his head, play with his mind like it’s just a toy, it’s something he vowed not to let anyone do it again. But as he stares back at you, he can tell the difference between you and the monsters who ruined his head before. He is at a safe place and everyone here wants what’s good for him.

“It only works if you let me do it,” you add and notice how he presses his lips together into a thin line.

“I would do anything to get rid of him. So… I’m in,” he nods at last and you let out a relieved sigh.

You’ve never tried to corrupt so much of someone’s memories before and you’re not sure how long it will take to complete the task so you requested to start the next day, giving you some time to get ready physically and mentally and of course, for Bucky to get himself ready for his mind to yet again get taken apart by someone else.

Not having much to really do since your arrival other than helping Shuri out occasionally at the lab or giving assistance for T’Challa around the palace, you’ve been able to explore your temporary home in the heart of Wakanda.

There is a hidden terrace near your room, one that’s not well-known even by the people living in the palace and you like the peace and calm whenever you are out there, surrounded by flowers and plants in hand-painted pots, some of them were made by yourself, watching over the breathtaking view of Wakanda in front of you, the sky turning from bright blue to shades of orange, pink, purple and eventually black as the Sun goes down behind the hills.

Tonight, this is where you are seeking peace again, sorting your thoughts out about what you’ll have to face tomorrow. Your power has a lot of benefits but it has its curses as well. You’ve only attempted to do something similar before and you had to learn the hard way what price you have to pay for having control over someone else’s mind, thoughts and memories.

Your brother was tragically killed in an uprising when he was only seventeen and you were ten. It was the result of a series of unfortunate event, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, no one could help him. Your mother broke under the pain of losing her own child and you listened to her cries every and each night for months before you decided that you needed to help her. She didn’t want to let you even try, afraid it might take too much of you to help her, but you insisted and she eventually gave in. You altered her memories and feelings about your brother’s death, only left her with the ones that bring her joy and happiness, but your gesture demanded a price you weren’t ready to pay.

Upon your own grief for your brother, you had to bear your mother’s as well, the pain of two people clutching your heart and mind in return for your mother’s happiness. You never told her how you cried yourself to sleep every night for an entire year, how you could barely control your dark flashbacks and the constant darkness that was pulling you down. No one knew what you had to go through just to see your mother smile again and you made sure it stayed that way. However, you didn’t dare to do it again, not entirely sure if you could handle the pain one more time.

You surprised yourself when you offered your help to Bucky. You don’t even know him, yet you are willing to take his pain and make it yours just so he can live a somewhat normal life. Though his memories and nightmares won’t torture you as long as they would have did with him, you’ll still have to fight his demons and he won’t even know it. Then why are you doing this?

You have no answer to that. Seeing him for the first time you just had a feeling that you have to do it, that he is worthy of it all and that you want to be the person to free him.

The glass door opens behind you as you’re watching the Sun disappear on the horizon and you’re surprised to see Bucky walk out to the terrace, stopping in his tracks once he notices you sitting on one of the wooden chairs.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he mumbles, his gaze snapping down at the floor.

“That’s what I thought too,” you chuckle.

“I’ll leave you—“ he starts, ready to leave, but you stop him.

“You don’t have to. Feel free to join,” you tell him, gesturing towards the other chair. His hesitation is clear at first, but then he closes the door behind him and sits beside you.

Bucky watches the sunset in awe, but he can’t shake his curiosity towards you, having to control himself not to stare at you as he tries to figure you out. You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand why you’re doing this major gesture for him, he’s spent the afternoon trying to find any alternative motives that might explain your willingness to help him. He couldn’t find any and it left him with even more puzzles in his tortured head.

“What is it like on your planet?” he finds himself asking, breaking the long silence between the two of you.

“It’s not too different than here,” you admit truthfully. “Though our technology is a little more advanced,” you add with a soft chuckle. “In a way I’m happy I ended up here, because Wakanda reminds me of my home.”

“You miss it, don’t you? Your home?”

“Who doesn’t?” you ask with a soft smile and Bucky nods. He misses his home too, but in his case, it’s not a place but a time, decades ago, when he was his true self instead of the monster Hydra forced him to become.

“I’m sure it’ll be nice to return once the war is over,” he hums to himself and he expects a warm and positive reaction from you, however all he sees is pain and sadness in your eyes. “What is it?”

You hesitate to share it with him, staring back at him you think about keeping your thoughts to yourself, but how could you expect him to let you get into his head if you don’t share your thoughts with him willingly?

“Bucky, I don’t think I’ll ever return to my planet,” you breathe out as your gaze moves back to the scenery in front of you, the burning disk of the sun already hidden behind the hills.

“What do you mean?”

“The ship I came with can’t be fixed and they don’t know that I ended up here. It would take them too long to find me here and that’s if… If my family will be alive by then. I have no idea what’s happening there right now, if the rebels are winning or my father is able to keep things under control. I see very little likelihood of my return.”

Bucky’s heart aches for you, knowing well the pain you feel, he finds it ironic how the both of you are stuck so far away from your homes, seeking shelter at the same place at the same time.

He thinks it’s fate.

“What’s your favorite memory from your home?” he asks and you turn to him with soft and shining eyes. He is expecting you to tell him about it, but instead you decide to show it.

Grabbing his hand that’s closer to you, you bring it up to your face and make him cup the side of your head, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as you close your eyes and recall the memory, planting into his head as well, taking him back, like the two of you could travel time and space just that easily.

Bucky can barely believe what he is experiencing but he finds himself inside your memory and it all seems so real, as if it was happening in the moment. He is standing in the middle of a meadow filled with luscious, green grass and some kind of flowers, whites and purples and yellows dancing in the soft breeze. At first he thinks he is alone, he doesn’t see you anywhere around him and then he spots a woman in a long, light pink dress, her hair waving behind her in the gentle summer breeze and then he spots a little girl running behind her.

Bucky walks closer to the woman, but she doesn’t acknowledge his presence, she doesn’t even look his way and when he reaches out to touch her arm, his hand goes right through her figure, as if she was just a ghost.

The little girl finally catches up with the woman, a handful of flowers in her hands and when looks up Bucky realizes that it’s you as a child. Your main features can still be found behind the round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Mom! I picked these for you!” your younger self beams, holding the little bouquet of flowers up to your mother, who takes it with a bright smile.

“So beautiful, my love!” she hums, sniffing the flowers as you giggle at her. “But why don’t we use them for something?”

“For what?” you ask with a curious look and Bucky can’t help the smile on his face. It’s such a pure and joyful memory, he almost wishes it was his.

Your mother sits down in the grass, her skirt fanning over her in a circle as she pulls you down to her lap with your back facing her before she combs her fingers gently through your hair and starts braiding it, sticking the little flowers into the braid as she moves down. You start singing some kind of song, one Bucky doesn’t know, and your mother smiles brightly at your chiming voice. She braids with so much care and precision, at the end it looks perfect and very much princess-like with the flowers littering around.

“There. Now you are a bouquet of flowers yourself, my love” she smiles at you, kissing your cheek before letting you out of her arms, watching you dance around in your dress, singing to yourself without a care in the world.

Bucky wants to stay there, more than anything and see more of your younger version and your mother, but he is abruptly pulled back into reality when you pull his hand back from your face and the connection stops. His eyes snap open and they find yours, so enamored and in awe of what he just experienced, he feels like he was let in on a secret no one else knows in the world.

“Wow. That was… amazing,” he breathes out as his hand drops back to his lap while you just smile back at him shyly. “Is that… Is that what it’s gonna be like when you…?”

“Not quite,” you shake your head. “You won’t feel anything, you’ll just have to think back to all the memories you want to be changed or wiped. I’ll be the one stuck in your memories like you were in mine. And from inside, I’ll be able to change them.”

“Will I know later which ones were altered or they won’t be different at all?”

“There’ll be… a kind of shine to them when you’ll think of them after that. It’s gonna be the only tell that they were touched by me. But I won’t change anything you don’t give your consent to.”

Bucky nods, having answered his biggest concerns about tomorrow. Now he feels like he trusts you completely and you’ll be the first person he can open his mind up to without a worry.

No matter how much you tried to get yourself ready for what you’d see in Bucky’s head, nothing could have prepared to the pain and darkness he had to endure during his oddly long human life. All the torture, the blood, the hurt and fear of death, it all comes down crashing on you even after the first session you have with him.

It breaks your heart that such a sweet soul had to go through Hell innocently and now he has to live with everything he was forced to do against his will. You can only hope that the people who did this to him have gotten their rightful punishment.

The first time the two of you sit down to start his treatment you get stuck in his head for hours, going through memories and altering them to take away anything that is connected to the trigger words. You witness the time he was captured and the first time he was sat into the chair that broke him. You can’t help the tears rolling down your face as you use all your power to change the memory and leave him with just a faded picture of his cell and held captive. Bucky asked you not to wipe them entirely, leave him with reminders of what made you be the way he is today and that’s exactly what you do.

When you finally come back you almost faint from exhaustion, Shuri catches you right in time before you could fall off the chair in front of Bucky’s who is equally dizzy, but he still manages to reach out and grab your hand to help you steady yourself. You feel drained and almost tortured, Bucky’s memories imprinting into your own head and you already know they will haunt you for quite some time. Not as long as your mother’s grief did, you were just a child back then and you couldn’t control your power that well, but even though you’ve learned to use your abilities, it will still take a couple of months for you to get rid of the horrors you saw in Bucky’s head.

Bucky sees how broken you look after just the first session and he doesn’t want to believe you’ll be strong enough to finish what you started.

“It’s fine,” you assure him when he asks you again in the evening if you surely want to continue. “I just have to rest and we can go on,” you tell him, giving his arm a squeeze before returning to your room.

That night, you wake from a burning nightmare with a scream, gripping onto the sheets with terror running through your veins. In your dream, you were the one strapped to that chair, going through all the pain Bucky had to bear decades ago. It was vivid and torturous and you know it’s going to return.

But you’re determined to finish the work and you do it over and over again, every day for the next couple of weeks. You go through all of Bucky’s darkest memories, altering and changing them until there’s nothing left from the Winter Soldier in him, just some faint and blurry pictures of him being held by his captors. You take all the pain and let it sink its claws into your own head, clouding your mind with darkness.

Bucky can feel the change in himself instantly after the first time you get into his head and a few days later he sleeps through the night for the first time in forever, oblivious to the fact that not far away from his room, you are fighting his demons every night so he can have his peace.

He is always the one to help you back into your room after an exhausting session and he wakes you up with breakfast in the mornings, always making your favorite. You tell him it’s not necessary, but he insists that this is the least he can do for everything you are doing for him, and he doesn’t even know the worst things you endure for his happiness.

He is always the one to request days off from the treatment, not for himself, but for you. He sees how trying it is and though you would never ask for time off, you don’t have to, because Bucky does it for you. Every third or fourth day he tells you he needs some time to heal and get used to his new mindset, but he just wants you to rest and recharge and though you know it too, you appreciate the gesture.

Some days he asks you to join him for walks just to get you out of the palace and you gladly say yes, desperately needing something to bring the light back into your life and it doesn’t take long to realize that Bucky is that light that can ease the heaviness of the pain you are fighting.

You love seeing his smile as the first thing in the morning, you love how he squeezes your hands every time before you dive into his head and how insists to carrying you to your room even when you’re perfectly capable of walking on your own. You love how chivalrous he is always, something Shuri told you was more common in the times he was born and you adore it that it’s a piece of his past self still present after everything he’s been through.

Bucky is the only one who can pull you out of the dark hole you’ve been stuck in and you promised yourself that you’ll never tell him the price you had to pay for his happiness, because he deserves every ounce of it and you wouldn’t want anything to cloud over it, not even your misery.

It takes five entire weeks to go through everything that turned him into the Winter Soldier and then the day to test if it has worked finally comes. Shuri has made sure to have a capsule ready for the test, one that would keep him under control in case you didn’t succeed and he would be triggered by the words he already knows too well.

“Are you sure I won’t hurt anyone?” Bucky asked cautiously as he was strapped into the capsule, a good majority of the Dora Milaje guarding the lab as well in case the test goes wrong, but both you and Shuri are optimistic about it.

“Calm down, Sergeant. We can handle you,” Shuri jokes before finishing up. “Alright, I’m gonna close this now, but you’ll be able to hear us and we’ll hear you as well,” she informs him and he just nods as she closes the capsule, securing him inside.

You sit on the side, but still close enough to see his face in the capsule. His icy blue stare finds yours and you give him a soft, encouraging smile. You do believe he won’t be triggered and not just because of what you did, but because he has a strong will and if there’s still any part of the Winter Soldier in him, he’ll be able to come over it.

“Okay, ready for the words?” Shuri asks him and breathing out he nods, closing his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

“Желание,” comes the first word through a speaker and you hold your breath as you stare at his face through the capsule.

“Ржавый. Семнадцать,” the words carry on and you see him squeeze his eyes a little, fear taking over you that he might break, but it never happens. “Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный…”

The trigger words ends and your lips part when his eyes open, noticing the tears in them as he finally realizes that he didn’t turn. The Winter Soldier is finally gone.

“Congratulations, Sergeant. You’re free,” Shuri announces as she opens the capsule and lets him out, sobs shaking from his chest before he is freed from the straps and able to step out of the capsule.

He is quick to rush over to you and wrap you in his embrace, both of you sobbing and crying and you hold onto him tight, as if he was just a memory that could vanish any moment, but he is there, flesh and metal, the Bucky you know and adore so much.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he keeps repeating as his vibranium fingers tangle into your hair at the back of your head.

It’s been over a week of freedom for Bucky and he hasn’t felt better in his life, well, not in this decade. Without the sessions, he now has quite some free time on his hands that he prefers to spend with you, actually.

The two of you have been joined at the hips since his recovery and not just because Bucky feels like he owes his life to you, but because you both can’t help falling for the other in the light of your newly found friendship that’s starting to slowly turn into more.

Bucky hasn’t been shy about showing his adoration and gratitude towards you, not after you’ve seen the darkest side of him and could still look at him the same way. He feels like he has bared his entire soul to you and you accepted it gladly, so there’s no need to beat around the bushes.

However you’ve been still trying to keep him away from the secret you’re hiding. He can’t find out about the nightmares, the screams and the tears you shed every night when his demons come for you. You can’t let him get close enough to see the price you paid for his own happiness. But even with all the cautions you’ve been keeping, you still can’t stop fate from finding its way.

One night Bucky is staying up late, binge watching a series Shuri has recommended for him. He didn’t intend to stay up so late, but before he could realize how fast the time has passed, it was already past two in the morning.

Shutting the laptop down he decides to get himself some water before finally going to sleep. Padding his way down the dark and quiet hallways in only a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, he unintentionally takes the route that goes past your room. He didn’t plan on dropping by, knowing you’re probably asleep by now, just wanted to feel that sense of closeness even in the middle of the night, but his original plans immediately change when he hears your deafening scream coming from the other side of the door.

His blood freezes in his veins and he is quick to turn into combat mode, ready to fight whatever is threatening your life, but as he pushes his way into your room he doesn’t find any intruder, it’s just you, curled up on your bed and even under the thick layer of covers, he can see how badly you’re shaking, your beautiful face churned into a painful frown as you keep your eyes shut.

He immediately realizes that you’re having a nightmare.

He rushes over to the bed and sits to the edge, the mattress dipping underneath his weight as he carefully places a hand to your trembling shoulder.

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” he softly shakes you, trying to get you back to consciousness, but you keep tossing and whimpering, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin.

“No, no, please! I’m not the Winter Soldier!” you cry out and Bucky freezes, his jaw clenching at your words, an eerie feeling running down his spine.

“Y/N, it’s just a dream, wake up!” he tries again and your eyes finally shoot open.

Though you’ve woken up, you don’t instantly see what’s really happening around you and you are quick to flinch away from Bucky, pushing yourself to the far end of the bed as you stare back at him with fearful, wide eyes.

“It’s just me. It’s alright, it’s me, Bucky,” he softly reminds you holding his hands up so you can see them. Your chest is heaving and your hands are gripping the sheets so tight, your knuckles are turning white.

“Bucky,” you breathe out and he nods.

“Yeah, it’s me. You had a bad dream, I heard you scream.”

Letting out a shaky breath you close your eyes and try to shake the vivid images that haunted you tonight out of your head, with not much success. Tonight you were beaten up in a cold and dark cell, the man kept telling you that you’re just a monster, a soulless nobody as he kept hitting you before he reached for a weapon that sent electricity through your body until it was too numb to move at your will.

You know it was one of his memories, because you’ve seen this scene before in his head and you remembered it clearly. Only that last time you saw it happen to him and now you were the victim.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, loosening your muscles as you gain your contact back with reality.

“What was the nightmare about?” he quietly asks and your gaze snaps up to meet his. You can’t read his icy blue eyes and for a moment you think about touching him so you could hear his thoughts, but you promised yourself you would never use your powers on him.

“Just… some nonsense stuff,” you lie shaking your head.

“Didn’t sound like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you beg to someone, telling them that you’re not the Winter Soldier.”

His face hardens as he inspects you while you try your best to hide anything that would tell him more about what you’ve been keeping from him.

“I don’t… I don’t remember it,” you shrug, scooting closer to him as you fix your pillows.

“Y/N, I don’t need superpowers to know that you’re lying,” he retorts and you almost flinch at his words. “Are you having nightmares because of what you saw… in my head?”

For a split second you think about lying. You think about telling him that it’s just because of what you saw and not tell him the real reason of your nightmares, but guilt has been already eating you away for not telling him and you wouldn’t be able to lie straight into his face. So you shake your head and your eyes meet his icy gaze again.

“I’m having… your nightmares.”

He looks confused, eyebrows knitted together as he is tasting your words, not entirely sure about what you meant by them, so you go into the details you’ve been keeping hidden from him.

“I can’t just take memories away and turn them into nothing, Bucky. Memories can only vanish if they get forgotten with time,” you start explaining, hoping you can paint the picture as realistic as possible. “When I changed your memories, I took parts away and… made them mine. And now I have to be the one to fight and forget them, but it happens faster for me than it would have happened to you,” you quickly add, as if it could make it any better.

“Why didn’t you tell me this is the cost of my recovery?” he snaps, clearly mad at you and he has every right, but you just wanted to save him. “I would have never let you do it if it meant you’d be the one to suffer for me, Y/N!”

“I had the chance to help you, I wanted to give you the freedom you deserve!” Tears are stinging your eyes as you stare at his harsh expression, the soft and joyful Bucky you’ve seen these past weeks is now gone.

“But it’s not worth it if you are being tortured by my memories now!”

“It was worth to me!” you snap back, a tear rolling down you cheek. “I might have been selfish for keeping you the details of what it would take to free you, but now you are the one who is being selfish, because you wouldn’t have let me help you if you knew and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you! I chose to do it and I knew what I was getting myself into and I knew what it’s gonna cost.” More and more tears run down your heated cheeks, soaking your skin before they drop to your shirt or the sheets covering your lower half. Bucky stares back at you in disbelief as you reason about why you did it exactly. “You deserved this second chance and I was your only chance. If I didn’t do it for you, I would have had to live with the guilt forever that I let an innocent man suffer. It’s a small price for the happiness I was able to give you.”

Bucky is in total shock. He has had Steve do selfless shit for him plenty of times, hell, he wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him, but what you did is just above everything that’s been ever done for him and he is having a hard time accepting that anyone would put up with so much pain and suffering for him willingly. He can’t decide if he wants to scream and shout at you for being so stupid or if he wants to fall to his knees and glorify your name till the end of times.

When you realize that he won’t snap at you again, you carefully scoot closer until you can reach out and touch his face, but you don’t even try to read his thoughts. Not this time. You let his thoughts wrapped in the darkness of the unknown. Bucky melts against your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a few moments.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.”

“But I did,” you breathe out with a bitter chuckle. “And it can’t be undone, so you better accept it.”

He cracks a tiny smile, but it quickly vanishes as a thought pops into his head.

“If you have the memories that made me into the Winter Soldier, how come you don’t get triggered by the words?”

“I might own your memories now, but there’s a natural bond with the original owner that can’t be taken. It’s what makes them so vivid and real for you, but it will never be as real to me. The trigger words have no power over me, because the memories are not mine, I don’t have the bond with them.”

“But you still have the nightmares. My nightmares,” he breathes out, a hint of disappointment ringing through his tone, though you’re not sure if it’s because of what you did or because he couldn’t stop you from it.

“They will go away,” you assure him, but you can tell that his guilt is eating him away. “Bucky, I’ll be fine. A few weeks, at max a month and they will be gone. I promise you.”

“You don’t deserve this,” he mumbles under his breath as his hand reaches for yours, squeezing it gently before he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles softly. “You don’t deserve any of it.”

“But you deserve happiness,” you reply with a chaste smile that makes his heart flutter in his chest. “Let me give it to you. You’ve had enough pain, Bucky. I’ll take the rest now.”

Bucky stares back at you for a long second before he decides to do whatever he can to make sure you get through it as easily as possible. Pulling the covers back he slides under them, lying down next to you as he pulls you into his embrace.

“Go back to sleep and if you’ll have another nightmare, I’ll be here to wake you up from it and get your mind off of it. You’re safe with me,” he murmurs, as you lay your head to his hard chest, his flesh arm curling around your frame while his vibranium fingers lace together with yours on his stomach. You don’t try to protest against him, you know he won’t leave and quite frankly, you don’t want him to. Knowing that if you go back to the darkness again he’ll be here to pull you out relaxes you, doesn’t let you worry about what kind of horrific scene you are going to be forced to see when you close your eyes next. You melt against him, inhaling his scent, listening to his steady heartbeat under your head as you let yourself go back to sleep, for the first time, ready to face whatever is waiting for you on the other side.

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