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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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i am a rich man

words: 1k

warnings: misogyny, brief mention of violence, reader is a kook

a/n: im on vacation starting tomorrow monday 1/22-friday so i will not be posting any new fics for this week!

“have you decided what car you want baby?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scroll through the dealerships website.

“i’ve narrowed it down to two.” you tilt your phone towards rafe, letting him look at one car before navigating to the other tab to show him.

“why don’t you test drive both and decide after that? and if you like both, just buy both.” rafe shrugs. it was weird for him at first being with someone who had even more money than his family, but now he’s grown used to it, liking knowing you can support yourself if needed, even though rafe likes to buy most things for you.

“good point.” you hum. “i’d have to park one on the driveway though, my dad is only giving me one spot in the garage.” you pout. your dad has a mild obsession with sports cars, and therefore three of the four spots in the garage were already taken.

“lets not worry about it now, figure it out after you see them in person.” rafe says, and you nod, getting up off the couch to head to the dealership, glad that rafe agreed to drive you and test the cars with you, mainly because you didn’t want to spend the day without him.

it’s a long drive to the nearest dealership that had cars in your price range, but you don’t mind as you sing along to your favorite songs playing through rafes trucks speakers, always letting you be the dj even if he can’t stand some of the girly pop songs that you play.

“almost there.” rafe reaches over, squeezing your thigh as the dealership finally comes into view.

“thank god.” you groan. “my butt is starting to go numb.” “don’t talk about your butt when we are about to be in public.” rafe warns, glancing over at you as you giggle.

“sorry baby.” you say, in a voice that tells rafe that you’re not at all sorry.

“let me drop you off at the front, i’ll park the car then join you inside.” rafe says upon pulling in and realizing that there are no close parking spots, and he doesn’t want to make you walk outside for longer than he has to.

“mmkay, thanks baby.” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, always extra appreciative and lovey on rafe when he does sweet things for you, even if its just something little.

you hop out of the truck, heading inside the main showroom of the dealership.

“hello, ma’am!” a sales associate instantly hurries over to you. “i’m john, did you have an appointment?” “no, but i’ve checked out your inventory online and i know what i’d like to test drive today.” you say with a fake smile right back, already not liking the condescending attitude that john is giving off.

“alright, well lets take a seat at my desk and you can tell me your budget.” john walks you over to his cubicle, and before he can begin talking you’re joined by rafe.

“this is my boyfriend, he’s helping me pick out a car today.” you say as he sits down next to you, reaching over and looping your fingers through his, already eyeing up john as he tries to size him up.

“hello, sir.” john smiles. “so what is your budget?” he addresses the question at rafe, making your eyebrows scrunch together.

“well,” you answer, making johns gaze flick quickly to you, “budget isn’t an issue. i know what two cars i would like to look at.”

“okay, if you just want to tell me the models i will pull them up.” john turns the computer screen so you all can see as you tell him the two cars that peaked your interest the most.

“and i assume you will be financing?” he hums. you glance at rafe, shocked that he would have the audacity to assume anything.

“no.” rafe answers for you. “in full.” “okay, that makes sense that you will be paying, sir.” john says, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just imply that you wouldn’t be able to afford the car.

“as said before, i will be the one purchasing the car, so while my boyfriend is here to help me, i am your customer.” you clear up, hand squeezing rafes as you try to hold back your anger, knowing you can get just as fired up as him.

“sorry, just don’t see many young women being able to buy cars like these outright.” he says before quickly switching the subject, going through some of the specs of the vehicles. “and the cost on that one is $94,000.”

“wait a minute.” you rub your forehead, getting tired of this mans bullshit. “while i said money was no issue, that doesn’t mean that i’m going to let you get away with scamming me. that car is worth no more than 75.” “well, ma’am, there are various-” “no.” you shake your head. “i have done my research on these vehicles and i know that ever 75 is on the high end.” “let me double check my figures.” john swallows nervously, turning the screen so only he can see it as you send a look at rafe, seeing he’s struggling just as much as you not to reach across the desk and smack the misogynistic sales associate across the face.

“my apologies, i must have accidentally selected an additional maintenance package. it is $74,000.” john says.

“that sounds much more reasonable, but i will not be purchasing a car from someone who tries to scam me out of my money just because they think i’m a dumb girl. get me a different sales associate, now.” you command.

john scurries away from the desk, the stark opposite of the cockiness air that he had when you first arrived.

“jesus, you’re hot when you’re scary.” rafe says, looking you up and down as you smirk at your boyfriend, knowing while you’re usually sickly sweet, when a man irks you wrong, it brings out your full wrath.

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inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

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WIP Whenever (since I'm way late for a Wednesday check-in)

Popping in with a new OC reveal this week, mwah. Meet Sébastien as he runs headfirst, or shall I say falls, into trouble.

"And above all, keep your feet and legs together.", the faint droning of the instructor rang in the background as Sébastien regarded the picturesque scenery below him through the opening of the small plane, "You listenin'?" He let out a chuckle before sending a smile the man's way, same one he would offer his father's investors anytime he'd be forced to sit into a meeting with them and pretend he knew all about running their family business. "Of course, m-", he racked his brain, trying to remember a name, first or last, anything, at the end coming up empty, "my dear newfound friend." The bored look he received as a reply wasn't promising, but he wasn't there to impress anyone, rather than seconds away from plummeting down from 10 000 feet up, if luck had it, gracefully and without a hitch. "You sighed the waiver.", the man muttered under his breath before continuing, "From your demeanor, I take it you're not worried?" "No.", Sébastien lied as he braced against the side of the plane, completely suited up, wondering if the truth would stop him from his most recent adrenaline seeking spontaneous trip. His forged license ensured him passage, a seat on the plane, almost making him forget he had to also act the part, doubting money would slay the person in front of him with how much weight he put on the rules even before take-off.

"Good.", a mumble sounded from the front, followed by a wave from their pilot aimed at the instructor. "-clearance.", he strained his ears, trying to catch whatever the two were hunkered down and whispering about. "Okay. Showtime, Mr. King.", it took him a lot of willpower to not instinctively correct the fake name he had given upon meeting the man and signing a stack of documents before his dive. His father would always talk about how much pride he had to have in the Gallagher-Kerring name, the legacy it carried, same one that gave people a pause and made it super easy for him to be tracked down. "I thought we weren't due for a couple of more minutes?", checking his watch was close to impossible, with all the gear he had on, but eventually he managed to confirm his suspicion. The scenery wasn't of much help location wise with the fields and various small structures scattered between winding roads signaling, he could have been anywhere over Montana. The body of water they passed reminded him he wasn't exactly listening to that part of the lecture. Just aim for anything that's not water. Easy. "Time flies.", was all the instructor offered before bracing his hands on his hips, "Usually we would need the equipment back by Friday, or else you lose the deposit, but seeing how you have your own and didn't request retrieval…" "That won't be an issue?" The plan was to skydive, land near Missoula, maybe hitchhike there if he felt extra adventurous. Everything he wore was practically brand new, purchased after he had stormed the closest specialized store he could find the moment he had left the most recent gathering Frank Gallagher-Kerring had bestowed upon him. The bright yellow and black piece covering his lean body wasn't exactly his first choice, but he was assured it was the best and most expensive one they had.

"Yeah. Any further questions, Mr. King?" "No. Thank you.", he paired the words with another grin while wishing for the man to already stop talking. With a final clearance and another quick whisper session with the pilot, Sébastien found himself threading air, all his instincts screaming at him he would die. Instead of listening to the pesky voice, he focused on his surroundings and how the small dots that were in reality trees and other buildings became large, closer as he spread his limbs face-to-earth to avoid spinning out and actually making true on that fear. "I'm alive!", he screamed on top of his lungs, absorbing as much of the giddy sensation as he could. There always came a time during whatever dangerous endeavor he partook where his mind would seem so much clearer, though usually he had others with him, drowning out the tranquility. "3000 feet.", the altimeter attached to his helmet announced, kicking him back into action as he recalled his instructor's word about the moment he needed to open his parachute. His right hand grasped the rip-cord while his left came to rest across his waist. A sudden jolt followed as the canopy unfolded, making his breath hitch. He pushed through the shock as a satisfied smile spead over his features. "Piece of cake.", he muttered while his eyes zeroed on a white shape speeding down one of the roads he could see from his position. He had no idea how much time passed where he descended towards the clearing he believed was good enough for a landing with the alternative of ending up in one of the trees nearby, slightly worrying him.

Then he felt it, trying to convince himself the adrenaline was playing tricks on him - something flying past him as smaller forms that looked almost like ants came into view. Whatever calm had taken over his body left him at once when the whoosh happened again, followed by another. A stinging sensation registered in his arm as he gripped his parachute risers tighter. His gaze widened in horror at the tear in his suit as another bullet flew past and missed him. The multiple holes marrying the previously intact material of the bright yellow and black canopy only fueled it. "No fucking waaaaay.", he let out a string of curses as panic swooped in together with the realization he was being shot at. That the shapes that previously looked like ants were people with guns and coming in closer as he descended down. In his attempts to avoid getting killed by something that had nothing to do with his questionable choices, he focused on the road next to the clearing, hoping the maniacs would let out if he landed outside of what he assumed was their private property they were so dead set on defending from an innocent skydiver. Their angry yells mixed until they were indistinguishable as he began plummeting down faster thanks to his parachute being turned into swiss cheese. The wind worked in his favor somewhat, granting him a lead on his pursuers. More bullets flew, all missing him by mere chance, making him glad whoever those men were they certainly had worse aim than him at his very first shooting lesson his father had dragged him to when he was but 10.

"Come on. Come on, baby.", he chanted as his luck ran out and his hopeful descent turned nightmarish, faster, out of control. It was becoming clear making it to the safety of the road wasn't in the cards for him when his trajectory shifted dramatically despite him trying his hardest to keep steady. "FUCCK.", ripped out of his throat as he calculated his chances of making it over the tree line separating the fields from the road. No way. It was going to take a miracle. All he could do was close his eyes while his elbows locked together to instinctively protect his face from the incoming collusion. A part of him wondered if he should pray, if anything would even consider saving him with his track record of mayhem. "I wanna live. I'd donate all my money if I have to.", spilled out as a promise, thought he meant just the first part, letting go of his usual lifestyle felt impossible, out of the question. It's all he had and considered deserving off after surviving being raised by a Gallagher-Kerring. Sébastien had no idea how his landing actually unfolded as he kept his eyes shut, chanting reassurances under his breath, all he knew was that one second he was facing certain death, the next he felt his parachute hook onto something. "What the-", he could still hear faint shouts behind him, as his harness pulled at his body, feet dangling uselessly midair instead of touching the ground below, "I'm alive? Fuck. Gotta move." His hands shook as he grasped at the buckles, willing for his fingers to cooperate and undo them before whatever advantage he had on his attackers would vanish entirely.

"It's not that high. Nope.", he lied to himself, feeling idiotic for fearing such small drop after having literally dove out from a plane and risked his life for thrills. He held his breath as the final straps keeping him suspended gave way and gravity brought him down, his not so graceful but loosened stance softening his fall to a degree. With racing heart he relaxed into the grass beneath him, his victory becoming shortlived as he looked up and met a pair of angry eyes, then his gaze lowered, stopping at the rifle cluthed in the bloody grip of the unkept man looming above him. "Friendly, kind sir.", he whispered and shimmied back until his helmet made contact with something solid. It's just a big stone. Yeah. Not a leg connected to a person. It's what went through his mind despite suspecting reality was different and granted, when his head twisted to glance at what he had run into in his attempt to retreat, another just as equally furious seeming man greeted him by sneering his way. He would have bet a good chunk of money they were brothers, with the one behind him looking like he had been eating his vegetables and then some. "Fried-", a hand pulled him to his feet like he weighted nothing and made the word die before it formed fully, especially with how the longhaired Berserker wanna-be was holding onto his helmet, making him wonder if his grip would squish his head if nothing stood in its path. The fact he was taller than Sébastien didn't help, either. "We should call this in. Otis, get me Brother John on the line.", the shorter brother barked an order, attention shifting past the two. And then there were three?

His captor let out a low grunt, "We should, Bo… but he said he is to not be bothered today. Under any circumstance." "With the exception of anything related to the Deputy.", a third voice presumably belonging to Otis added, or at least it's what he hoped - that he wasn't about to be surrounded by a whole gang of trigger happy locals that took trespassing way too seriously. I wasn't even touching the ground. His hand inched up to his face, aiming for the clasp under his chin while Bo rubbed his dark beard, contemplating their options. "This Sinner fell from the sky.", he pointed his rifle at Sébastien, making him hold his breath in anticipation of the worst, "What if this is part of the Father's prophecy? A sign?" Sinner? Father? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? Did I travel back in time? Sébastien forced a laugh, "It's called skydiving, have you people not heard of it? You know, plane, jumping, freefalling, then parachuting the rest of the-" The Berserker shook him in warning, its threatening tone not halting his concealed efforts at freeing himself, "SHUT UP." "Sorry. Just-" "I said shut your mouth, Sinner before you become an Angel.", the sentence was uttered through gritted teeth, before the man addressed his shorter look-alike, "Or the Sinners are sending in reinforcements, airdropping them, hoping we'd be caught off guard." Like I have a chance at taking you all out. I've been hitting the gym, but not that HARD. "Call this in, Otis. Brother John would like to know.", Bo concluded with a nod.

The second the command was spoken out loud, the clasp securing the helmet to Sébastien's head came undone. Before any of the three men could blink, he was making a run for it, discarding the piece of equipment as years of running track in highschool came back to him, but instead of running to impress his father, he was running for his life. "GRAB HIM.", the scream Bo released pushed him to speed up, his calves and whole body really aching from the fall while his eyes remained glued ahead, knowing glancing back would do him no good. Only add to his raising panic, feeding a different level of adrenaline. With the rustling behind him signaling the nearing recapture, he vaulted the fence that stood between him and freedom, leaping onto the road and almost getting ran over by a white truck in the process. His hands rose up as to shield him as Sébastien saw his life flash before him for a second time that day before whoever was behind the wheel hit the breaks hard, forcing the vehicle to an abrupt stop inches away from him. "I'M CROSSING HERE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.", he yelled and hit the truck's hood for good measure, and he would have been embarrassed by how high pitched the words were, if he wasn't absolutely furious. I'm a Gallagher-Kerring. His brain didn't even fully register the strange cross painted on the vehicle or how it matched the one on his pursuers' sweaters. "Get down.", a deep voice responded before a shot rang out and he ducked without a second thought, scrambling towards the side of the truck as bullets began flying. A rumbling noise sounded from the treeline, followed by a red light exploding in the sky. A flare.

Sébastien watched in horror, suspecting more trouble was headed his way when the gunfire died down as fast as it had started. "Hey.", a door slammed shut, making him move further away from the passenger's side of the truck while the same voice from before added, "You alive, jaywalker?" Boots crunched against the gravel as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his determined approach and the fact he was armed activating Sébastien's fight or flight instincts. "Stay back.", he hollered as a blond man, who couldn't have been older than him, came into view. "Easy now.", a laughter escaped him when he shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans, his palm circled his own face then pointed at him, "Did you fall into a bush?" "No." "Got caught in the cattle fence as little ducky was crossing the road? Where's your mama?", Sébastien eyed his outstretched arm with suspicious before reluctantly grabbing it so he can help him up. He shook of the man's hold, putting safe distance between them as he braced for another attack. "Skydiving into a tree.", he muttered under his breath and a realization dawned on him, "YOU- YOU- DUCKY?" The stranger shrugged as he regarded him from head to toe before swiveling on his heel, "Yellow. Duck. Wasn't me who picked that outfit, chief. Would you rather me call you baby chick? That was option B. Felt too on the nose."

His anger rose back to the surface as the man climbed back into his truck and he spun to stare at him through the rolled down window, "You have no idea who you're talking to!" All he got initially was a slow, unimpressed blink, "Do tell, your Majesty?", he tapped his watch, an old looking thing, "But make it quick." "I-", his mouth snapped shut. A smirk came over the man across him, "Well? You shy? I'd start first, name's Calahan. Calahan Hartley. Your turn." "Sébastien Theodore Phoenix Sawyer Thatcher Landon Nicholas Gallagher-Kerring.", his full name spilled out, making him feel like he was at the front of his class, confusing everyone and then himself by the reaction it always got out of people. Blond eyebrows twisted in confusion before Calahan released a chuckle, the usual of recognition upon speaking the Gallagher-Kerring name nowhere in sight, "Wait. Are you actually for real?" "It's my name." "Jesus. Your parents hate you or something, bud?", he leaned back into his seat, giving him a first look at the bodies laying on the road a few feet away from them, the pools of blood making him woozy. In turn, Hartley seemed completely at ease, like he hadn't just taken out three men and potentially saved his life. Sébastien frowned, "No." Silence took over before Calahan cleared his throat and nodded at the passenger's side, "You need a ride?" "I will pass." "Be my guest, your Majesty, just a friendly word of advice… that red flare? Means more of those fuckers are coming as reinforcements and I ain't sticking around to play your bodyguard, I'm on a tight schedule. When they roll up, just say you're ready for your Cleansing and praise the Father."

"You're not one of them?" "Hell no." A sigh left Sébastien before his fingers lowered to the door handle, "They shot at me." "Their usual modus operandi with all of us locals. Where?" He pulled at his sleeve until the place where one of the bullets had grazed his upper arm peeked through, crimson marrying the yellow material. "Have seen worse, far worse." "Are you serious?" Mischief shone in his eyes, "You're gonna live, bud, I promise, giving ya the word of a Hope County Deputy. Last chance, are you hitching a ride with me or going for a Peggie pick-up? John is going to have a field day with ya." As he said that, he stepped on the gas enough for the vehicle to inch forward, clearly enjoying the precicament Sébastien had found himself in and how riled up he got at his words. "Who's John?", he asked as he settled into the passenger seat. "It's a long story, short one is: someone you don't want to mess with. How about you start tellin' me how you ended up here and why these three were chasing you?" "It's a long story.", Sébastien parrotted back, finding himself unable to shake off the bitereness at the man's previous comments. "Cheer up, your Majesty. I should be sulking at you for almost denting my truck, after the hassle it was to steal." "I have a name. And you stole a truck?" Calahan rolled his eyes, "Among other things. So, what should I call you for short because I ain't reciting that long-ass name back to you…"

His hands crossed over his chest as Calahan put the truck into drive, "Nothing." "Rubber ducky it is, then." "Maurizio's fine.", he grumbled, causing the Deputy to laugh again. So happy to be providing entertainment for you. "That wasn't even among the names you listed, chief. I think." "It's what friends call me." "Uh-oh, did I get upgraded to a friend?" "Absolutely not." "Ouch.", Calahan rubbed his chest, "Hurts almost as a bullet. You part of a dynasty?" "Something like that. Why were they shooting at me?" "Cult took over after we tried to arrest their leader, has the whole county on lockdown and communications cut off, hence why I was askin' how you got here." "What, I don't look like a local?" He snorted, "Do I start with your outfit, posh accent, or long name that won't fit on a name tag?" "I'm regretting my choice to hitchhike already." "Hey, no offense. You asked. Plus, you need to flag me down first, not jump out in the middle of the road like you're trying to trap me into paying you damages." Sébastien ignored the apology, "How do I get to Missoula?" "You listening to anything I just said? Or did you hit your head as you fell down? Lockdown." Denial seeped into his system at the fact he was stranded in the wrong place, "I need a ride to Missoula." "Can't do."

"I will pay you.", he patted the inside pocket of his suit, the wad of cash he carried around for emergencies giving him a sense of comfort. "As tempting as that sounds, we're in a middle of a holy war, so I can't be your personal driver." "I need to make a call then. You got a cell?" He had left his own behind, knowing his father would immediately track him down otherwise, now he kind of wished he would have left a trail to follow. Certainly, would have solved his 'stuck in the middle of a hostile conflict' problem promptly. Calahan groaned, "You truly ain't listening." The truck drove past a sign announcing they're entering 'Fall's End.', and his attention drifted off again, forcing his reluctant driver to call out his nickname. "What?" "I asked if you're fine making a quick stop on the way to the doctor's. I know you have to get that fatal wound treated ASAP." "Stop where?" Various structures lined the road on both sides, some burned down, others appearing like they had housed a face-off or two. "Here.", the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a relatively spared building, the neon sign of a woman in just her bikini and a set of wings drawing his gaze. "A bar? It's barely past noon." He had no idea why he had even muttered that, considering he himself had participated in far worse activities in his lifetime, ones that often created a media storm Frank Gallagher-Kerring paid a fortune to bury. "You can stay in the car, posh boy. I won't be long."

Calahan didn't wait for his reply, quickly exiting the car without sparing him a look as he strutted inside the bar. "Fuck this.", Sébastien slammed the door with way too much force, contemplating if he should try to track down a working phone line, no matter how much he dreaded crawling back to his father that soon. This is hardly a proper rebellion. At the end, he dragged himself towards the bar, the bell's jiggle cutting off whatever conversation Calahan was having with a woman and by the knowing look she gave him, he was most likely the subject of it. "Mary May, this is…", Hartley paused, expecting he would just introduce himself, then turned around to shoot him a glance, "Humor me. I saved your life." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Hilarious. You forgot like 20 names." "Whatcha drinking?", the blonde nodded his way. "Organic tea?" Before he knew it, she was placing a quick kiss against Calahan's cheek before backing away with an annoyed expression, "I hate you, you know that, Rookie?" "The feeling of being right.", he sighed and locked his hands at the nape of his neck, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. "Sorry, I'm lost.", Sébastien uttered out as he slid into the seat next to his. "You're in a bar in Montana.", Mary May began and placed an empty glass in front of him, "Closest you'd get to me making you tea, even at lunch is serving you lukewarm water with some of my spit in it. Organic." Calahan leaned in, whispering loudly, "Also known as blatant disrespect. Which I would advise against." "Damn right. You order liquor.", she chimed in as she poured him a drink, "With how pale you are, it might even do you some good."

"Man went through his first Peggie encounter, Angel." "And then Zorro got to his face and bold choice of outfit, too?" It was the second time someone had commented on his face, making him wonder if he wanted to see the damage done by his landing while his hand ran across his clean-shaven cheek. "Skydiving." At the same moment Calahan said, "Maurizio hugged a tree… and it hugged him back." "No wonder he asked for organic tea." "He is also in the room.", Sébastien retorted back before he brought the glass to his lips, hoping the alcohol look make his situation seem less hopeless, or at least take care of the constant dull pain in his arm. The bell chimed behind him, and while he ignored the sound, choosing to wallow in his bad luck, Hartley spun around in his seat and let out a low whistle directed at whoever had arrived. "Chief! Come meet a noble." "Noble?", there was humor in the newcomer's voice as he slapped his back and leaned against the bar. Sébastien could feel him staring and he reluctantly lifted his gaze, meeting a pair of friendly blue eyes. "See this face, ducky? You see someone like him but covered in tattoos and rambling about sin and the Power of Yes,", Calahan waves his hand towards the man's face like he was giving a lesson, "you run the other way. Preferably not in front of my truck." "Very funny, Cal.", the dark haired man grumbled out, before reaching his arm across him for a handshake, "Leslie Parish. Don't mind him. I look nothing like John." "Still in denial." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Well, now that you two are acquainted, Les, do you feel like givin' me a hand and taking this one to the doc? Peggies gave him a boo-boo." After blowing a kiss to Mary May Calahan jumped out of his chair, pushing the door open just as Leslie finally realized he was being entrusted to take care of a complete stranger, "Should I expect trouble?" He smirked at the question, "From me or him? Both debatable."

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @direwombat @purplehairsecretlair @jillvalentinesday @unholymilf @florbelles @madparadoxum @strafethesesinners @nightbloodbix @voidika @theelderhazelnut @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @dumbassdep @cassietrn @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @harmonyowl @aceghosts @shegetsburned @onehornedbeast and anyone that would like to share anything this week <3

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deadweight-at7am · 3 months

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Soooo it's looking like I maybe should move on at my job. I've been here 5 years and I'm starting to really feel resentment and feel used. I've proven myself more than capable in every area but they refuse to give me a manager salary and treat me like I'm nobody.

Some higher level decisions have negatively affected me and I'm pretty much over the idea of having to take the brunt of someone else's poor decision making skills. A team member left in January and they didn't replace her. Instead the decision was to let a person who was doing part of the job she did, do the entire thing. He took on that work and is now a one-man show. I think he actually likes it this way. Either way, whether he loves it or loathes it, my bosses decided without ASKING ME that the person who is covering for him when he's out is me. Why? Oh, looks like I'm the only competent person who has been cross-trained and does the job without a mountain of errors. We don't work in the same department. I just happen to know how to do his job. My job is completely separate to his and on a daily basis we do DIFFERENT WORK. He's not in my department, he's not trained on my job, etc.

I put in for PTO for 3 days during my kids' Spring Break last Friday along with a request for July. Spring Break is the end of March. I'm putting in for it a month in advance. I also put in for my vacation at the beach. I got a call from my boss saying "your request for July is fine but there is going to be a problem with March". I immediately started to get angry. She tells me that Dude took off for an entire week at the end of March, his PTO overlaps and they can't do both. I literally waited a good 5 seconds to reply and said "what does his PTO have to do with me? He's not in my department." She then starts stumbling over her words to explain how it somehow is MY problem and I said "Boss, this has never been an issue in the past." She's like "yeah this is an issue now though because Team Mate left." I am staring at my phone screen with this look of pure disgust because I know she's trying to brow beat me into backing down and saying I'm not going to take those days off. So, I tell her really matter-of-factly "well this is why I told everyone we needed to be included in conversations in people's PTO if I'm expected to cover for them and I never was, so I'm going out of town. It's not going to be possible for me to cancel this vacation." She gets really defensive and says something STUPID about how "we don't announce the entire company's PTO requests" and I cut her off and said "I never once said that I needed to know EVERYONE'S requests, I said I needed to be included in any that INVOLVE ME". She gets silent and goes "Well, I mean, if you can't cancel plans we'll need to work out a coverage schedule" and I just sat there like "yeah, guess you do, don't you?" I don't know why she didn't expect me to stand on business, because that's who I am. I'm not going to be intimidated into not taking deserved vacation time because they decided, without consulting me, that I am the fill-in for Dude. I have done it in the past, but did not agree to anything like this since his team mate left. I even said one day "that's not tenable because we need two people for coverage when someone leaves on vacation".

We have a meeting at 11am which will be VERY interesting, I'm sure. Can't wait to hear some drivel about "updated PTO request guidelines" that were borne of this very stupid situation.

#personal #personal post #momblr #mumblr #work #PTO requests #incompetence

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karatekels · 8 months

Text

Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 1

I am so, *so* excited to be writing for another TIG character! While The Kidnapping/Black Friday has... a lot of issues (mostly not enough TIG and his backstory, imho), I love Cash so much!

This will not be anywhere near as dark as "Unjust Reward"; this is more of a thriller/drama/(romance?) that I have 6 posts planned for! Chapters will also likely be shorter than what I usually post (probably between 2k-4k).

TW: (for the fic, nothing in this chapter) Police corruption, police violence, unlawful seizure and detention (holding someone against their will), violence, bondage, possible dubious consent

---

Chapter 1 - Suspect:

---

“–We’ve got to be hypervigilant, follow any hint of a lead; if those drugs hit the street, I don’t even want to think about what it’ll mean for violent crime in the area. So, keep pounding the pavement, everyone, and let’s make this bust before we miss our chance. Dismissed.”

You join the throng of other officers leaving the briefing room after your morning meeting, stopping in the kitchen to top up your coffee before returning to your desk. Finding a spot for your mug amongst the mountains of case files, you take a seat, looking at the piles of unsolved cases with a sigh.

You knew you were a good cop; a lot of your fellow officers were great cops, but there were only so many of you, and only so many hours in the day. The crime rate in the city was at an all-time high, and you were all constantly working overtime, even though you weren’t always paid for it.

You’ve been an officer here for a couple of years now. Initially underestimated as a smaller, female officer, you had slowly but surely made a name for yourself in the precinct as a scrappy, determined woman who always got her perp. You were fueled by a strong sense of justice, something you had had for your entire life, and while it had earned you the reputation of being uptight or a killjoy in your early life, it had served you well in your career.

You bring your computer out of sleep mode, sweeping your hair into a messy ponytail that didn’t quite keep the hair out of your eyes as you start to review the report you had been typing up when you first got in this morning. It was a straightforward B&E, it wouldn’t take you long to finish.

A shadow falls over your desk as a tall, broad-chested officer walks past you without a glance or a word of acknowledgement. Your eyes follow the man as he moves to his desk, all the way on the other side of the precinct, and you sigh.

Cash…

You had been partners for nearly a year upon your addition to the police department. More than that, you had been friends… or so you’d thought. You’d been a great team, and had a higher rate of solved cases than any other pair of officers in the precinct. You had so many memories associated with him: “take-out stake-outs” where you’d gorged yourself on Chinese food while waiting for a perp to appear, working a case late-night at your desks and spit-balling ideas until you’d cracked it, celebratory beers at the local watering hole that all the cops frequented when you solved a case.

But that was before his suspension.

You still didn’t know what he had done to warrant the suspension; no one would tell you. It had all happened so suddenly; you had been working a case, splitting up to follow separate leads, and he had gone radio silent. Upon your return to the precinct hours later, Cash’s desk across from yours had been cleared out, and the Chief had called you into his office telling you that you would be getting a new partner, that Cash had been suspended.

The Chief had adamantly refused to tell you what had happened, only that you were being reassigned and that Cash would be back in a few weeks, pending approval by the review board.

When he had returned, it was like he was a completely different person. Before, he had been energetic, eager to talk, laugh, get the job done. Now he was quiet, and angry, and didn’t seem to want anything to do with anyone, especially you. It was like he had completely shut you out of his life overnight without so much as a goodbye, let alone an explanation.

In the beginning, you had been persistent, trying to get him to crack a smile or laugh with you at first. But nothing worked. He would walk away whenever anyone approached him, keeping his head down; the only person you’d seen him speak to other than the Chief (and even that was only when necessary) was his new partner, Glen, and they didn’t seem to work much together, often working separate cases in silence.

Your eyes are still on Cash as he takes his seat at his desk; you can’t help it, you’re worried about him. You missed him, as both a partner and a friend.

His pale blue eyes lock with yours, and he stares at you intensely for a moment before giving you a brief glare, then pointedly looking away.

You’ve been feeling uneasy for awhile now. Cash had shared your sense of justice when you had been working together; it was one of the things that you’d had in common. The few case reports of his you’d managed to get your hands on since his suspension had mentioned reckless, unpredictable behaviour, and it had you worried.

For awhile now, you’ve been trying to figure him out, and you think you may have an idea of what he’s up to. You wouldn’t put it past him to do something dangerous, a ‘Hail Mary’ where he would put himself in harm’s way to save the day, and get back into the department’s good graces. Because he often worked alone, Glen off doing his own work, no one would be there to check him, keep him from doing something stupid.

You had been debating going to the Chief with your concerns about Cash over the past couple of months. You had no evidence to support your claims, just that gut instinct that had served you well on the force numerous times before. Unfortunately for you, Chief Levinson was the definition of a by-the-book, no-nonsense police officer; he didn’t operate the precinct based off of hunches.

Still, you had done great work since joining the department, and maybe your spotless record would give him reason to take you seriously, despite your lack of evidence. You owed it to Cash – at least, the memory of the Cash that he used to be – to give it a shot. You would hate yourself if you didn’t at least try to look after him, especially if he wound up doing something stupid.

You grab a random casefile off of your desk, using it as a pretense to go and speak to the Chief. Locking your computer, you get up, walking over to the Chief’s office and knocking on the open door.

“Officer L/N. What can I do for you?” Chief Levinson asks, looking up from his desk after a moment of you awkwardly hovering in his doorway.

“Got a second, Chief? I’ve got something I want to run by you,” you ask, clutching the casefile more tightly than necessary, making sure that he can see it.

“Sure thing, come on in.”

Cash’s piercing gaze tracks your movements as you walk into the Chief’s office, closing the door behind you.

---

You take a seat across from the Chief, his ornate wooden desk between you, and try not to appear nervous.

“So, what’s this all about? What case are you working?” he asks, skipping the pleasantries. Chief Levinson had never been a man who liked to waste time being cordial.

“Actually, Sir… this isn’t about a case.”

You don’t miss the way that his jaw ticks. He had quite a short fuse when he was stressed, and the quarterly report he’d recently submitted to the Commissioner had been less than satisfactory. It wasn’t as though the department wasn’t solving crimes, but the sheer volume of them as of late had been overwhelming the precinct.

“I certainly hope you’re not here to talk about the weather, L/N. We’ve got more open cases than we know what to do with; I don’t have time for idle chitchat. You certainlydon’t have time for it,” he chides you, and you bite your tongue to keep your face carefully neutral.

“I understand, Sir. This isn’t for a case, but it’s something that I think needs to be brought to your attention.”

“Well, spit it out then, L/N. I haven’t got all day,” he tells you gruffly.

“It’s about Cash, Sir.”

“Officer Ewing? What about him?”

“I’ve been concerned for awhile now that he’s going to do something risky. He lives for this job, Sir, and he’s changed since his suspension. I think he may do something drastic to try to earn the department’s respect back. Your respect, Sir.”

The man leans back in his chair, surveying you quietly for a moment with a contemplative expression.

“I see. And what evidence do you have that makes you suspect this?”

“I worked side-by-side with Cash for months, Sir. I really feel like I know him.”

Or knew him, a cruel voice whispers in your head. You ignore it.

“I asked for evidence, L/N. We don’t deal in speculation in this precinct,” he tells you firmly.

You’re mildly worried you’re going to make yourself bleed from how hard you’re biting your tongue.

“I understand, Sir. I… I don’t have any evidence, just a hunch.”

“I can appreciate your concern, Y/N,” the Chief says kindly, and you stiffen at his use of your first name; it came across to you as patronizing, though you’re fairly sure he’s not trying to be. “I know that it hasn’t been easy for you since Cash’s suspension, and that you don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“It’s not about me, Sir, I –” you start to protest, but he interrupts you.

“But I sincerely doubt that Officer Ewing will do anything that isn’t strictly by-the-book. He knows he’s on thin ice after his suspension, and he won’t want to rock the boat.”

“But Sir–”

“Do not concern yourself with Officer Ewing, L/N. That’s an order. Now, I suggest you get back to work – I’ve seen the amount of open casefiles on your desk.”

“Yes, Sir,” you say through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your time.”

You leave his office without another word, refusing to look across the room to Cash.

You spend the rest of the day angrily typing up reports.

---

The evening finds you sitting alone at Hank’s, the local cop bar, nursing a beer. You’re still grumpy about how your chat with the Chief went, staring into space as you try to figure out what more you can do to get him to take you seriously.

“What’s got you all surly and seething?” comes a voice from behind you. Turning your head slightly, you see Cash standing next to you, still towering over you even from your tall perch on the bar stool. He’s wearing his dark leather jacket on top of his uniform, and lightly tinted sunglasses, despite being indoors at night. What a tool, you think to yourself.

“Are you speaking to me, Officer Cash?” you ask with mock surprise, your eyes wide as you put a hand on your chest. The sort-of nickname slips from your lips easily; he’d always hated his last name, so you’d taken to calling him Officer Cash when you’d first started working together. “To what do I owe the honour?”

It’s been months since he’s bothered to say a word to you, months since you stopped trying to reach out. To your surprise, he takes the seat next to you, and you silently raise a questioning eyebrow up at him. He says nothing, and you gnash your teeth.

“That seat’s taken,” you snap at him, irritated.

“By who, your imaginary friend? Grow up.” He holds up two fingers to the barkeep, who slides him over two beers. Cash wordlessly pushes one over to you as you finish your first, and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“What do you want, Cash?” you ask him tiredly, pointedly ignoring the proffered beverage.

“Why do you assume I want something?” he asks, cocking his head and staring at you, eyes unblinking. You look away first, lowering your gaze to the chain he wore around his neck.

“I don’t know, Cash. Maybe because you haven’t bothered to speak to me in months,” you growl at him angrily, still refusing to meet his eyes; you don’t want him to see how much his absence has affected you.

“Crime’s been on the rise. We’ve both been busy,” he replies, clearly avoiding the actual subject.

“Don’t give me that crap. You’ve been avoiding me ever since you got back from your suspension.” You scowl, snatching the beer he’d passed to you off of the counter and taking a swig.

“We’d been reassigned partners by the time I came back,” is all he says, and you roll your eyes at the weak excuse.

“We were also friends, Cash!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down, but you’re getting angry. You’ve been wanting an explanation for ages now, but the opportunity to hear one finally presenting itself to you while in the presence of alcohol wasn’t ideal; you tended to get mouthy when you drank.

“We were friends,” you repeat softly, a wash of sadness coming over you as you speak the words. “It shouldn’t have mattered that we were reassigned.”

“Yeah well, things change,” he retorts, refusing to elaborate. You glower at him, anger replacing your grief in an instant. Cash had always been able to set you off, even back when you had been working together.

“Clearly. Whatever you did to get suspended must’ve involved you shoving your head up your ass.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice tight.

“Of course I don’t understand! No one will tell me what happened! You won’t tell me what happened. Forgive me for wondering what my so-called partner did to nearly get himself kicked off the force!” you seethe, jaw clenching as you feel your throat constrict, the way it tended to when you were about to cry. And you would not be crying in front of Cash Ewing; not tonight, not ever.

But damn, him abandoning you with no explanation had hurt you even more than you’d thought it had.

“You know that what goes on in disciplinary hearings has to remain confidential.”

“Yeah, yeah. It still doesn’t explain why you haven’t talked to me since coming back. You’re always disappearing, going off by yourself, and I’ll be honest with you, Cash: I think it’s sketchy as hell.”

You emphasize the last sentence, wanting to let him know that you were suspicious about what he was doing and that you had been keeping an eye on his movements, and he stiffens. The look he gives you is honestly terrifying – a wide, piercing stare, like he was trying to read your mind – but you refuse to look away first, setting your jaw. After a long moment, he lowers his gaze, taking a swig of his beer.

“Mind your own damn business,” he snaps at you, and that sets you off.

“I was, up until you decided to deign me with your presence. Why’d you even bother coming over here?”

He takes a long drink, looking past you with a thousand-yard stare.

“Wanted to ask if you needed help with that case you went to the Chief about,” he says knowingly, and something about the intense way he’s looking at you sends a shiver down your spine. What had he heard?

“…But forget it. Forget all of it, Y/N,” he suggests firmly, his mouth twisting into a cross between a grimace and a smile. He quickly polishes off his drink, sliding the bottle over to the barkeep and leaving without a word. You stare after him as he walks out the door, feeling frustrated.

That last thing he said had sounded awfully like a warning to you…

He was up to something.

You’re going to find out what.

---

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Not really a fun fact, but Cash’s character doesn’t have an official last name (neither does Glen’s, which is CRAZY to me since cops are usually called Officer L/N), so I used the last name of the character from TIG’s first acting role, Catlin Ewing.

(Side note: Has anyone watched him in Another World? I’m not really a soap opera person, but I mean, it IS TIG, so let me know if I should check it out!)

#thomas ian griffith #cash #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007 #dark desires october #disorderly conduct #eventual smut

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dulcewrites · 1 year

Note

Owww, I kinda want to know how the Friday night/morning after that Aemond and Reader slept together went; like on both pov’s, what kinda leads them on (aside from drinking wine) + if someone ever find out that happened 😘

Real Games

It started with a compliment. A simple acknowlegement on a change that others may not care to comment on. Aemond has always been that way, detailed oriented to a point. One of his more neurotic traits, but he wouldn’t be good at his job without it.

It made you lift your hand to hair self consciously. You got highlights. Nothing crazy but enough of a change that it made you nervous. Your mother always reiterated your hair was one of your best features; changing it in any kind of way would be a mistake. You remember how jealous you were the day you met Helaena. Fixated on the ease in which she moved through the world with, at the time, chartreuse hair.

But the way Aemond gently took your hand from your hair and told you that you looked pretty made you blink, surprised and bashful. The feelings continued all throughout dinner. His foot brushed yours and you spent dessert trying to figure out if he did it on purpose or by accident.

It’s stupid in hindsight. That being said your feelings, positive or negative, towards Aemond have always been stupid. The type of mind altering foolish feelings that always got you trouble when it came to him.

Maybe you’ll never learn.

———

After dinner, Daella insisted on watching Beauty and the Beast for what had to be the seventh time that week.

The pillow and blanket fort had been set up, and the living area smelled like popcorn. A burst of laughter comes from you when Daella makes off handed comment about Belle and the beast reminding her of you two.

“Does that mean I’m the beast,” a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his breath on your neck and ear.

“Maybe she means you could’ve been a prince in another life.”

You try not to make your looks obvious, but you could see Aemond as a Prince. Sharp, regal features complimented by old jewels or a crown. By the time the beast turns back into a prince, Daella is knocked out on her father’s lap.

Once he goes to put her up, you run your hands nervously over your thighs. You feel a bit out of it, and you worry he can sense it. Like a cat in heat or something.

You need to get laid. You’re so uptight

When your friend said it to you over brunch last weekend, it earned her a scoff and a lecture about how a man isn’t going to make you less stressed. You still mean it. Though your stress is the good kind, one brought on by new work and opportunities, it is still stress nonetheless. No man will magically make it go away. Nor do you want it to.

But…

There is a certain kind of warmth that you miss. The feeling of hands on your body. Nervously, you apply your juicy tubes lipgloss.

“I don’t understand how such a tiny girl can sounds like that,” Aemond’s voice breaks your thoughts. He notices you just sitting there, thousand yard stare on your face. “What’s wrong.”

You shake your head, and try to gain a semblance of composture.

“Umm do you want to stay,” Aemond raises a brow. “I mean do you want to stay for a glass of wine.”

A soft smile comes on his face. “I’d like that but we are doing a red.”

You wrinkle your nose, but follow him into the kitchen. You were much more of moscato type of girl. Though you do know exactly what bottle to open; Alicent had bought the two of multiple bottles of differnt wine as a wedding anniversary one year. The Chambertin Grand Cru bottle was simple and dark.

“Did I tell you Aegon had to find a new therapist,” Aemond open the top shelf to pull out two glasses.

“I thought he liked this last one,” you frown, handing the bottle to him.

“Yeah… enough to fuck her.”

Your shoulders slump. As much you love Aegon, his ability to shoot himself in the foot is staggering at times. You always assumed that the band and the traveling exacerbated issues already there, but lately it seems like at the band kept him idle.

Aemond and you take the wine back into the living room.

“Ok, Lion King or Aladdin,” you hold the tapes up and Aemond laughs. “No, I’m seriously it’s either these or Richie Rich.”

He purses his lips as in deep thought. “Hmmm, Lion King.”

A part of you wants to make crude daddy issues joke, or even a weird uncle one but decide against it considering how the two of you are getting along.

You don’t remember when the two of you ditched the glasses are started drinking straight out the bottle, or when you transitioned from sitting to laying down. The movie had become background fader to your conversation.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” you turn your head. “You’ve always been hard on yourself, and music always ends up being good.”

“It‘s been shit, and I know it has. The amount of notepads I’ve gone through is ridiculous.”

When he leans over you to put the bottle back on the coffee table, his hair brushes against your face a bit and you get whiff of his cologne.

“And I played one of the songs for my mom. I could tell she hated it. She won’t tell me, she’s too nice to but I cou-“

You cut him off by pushing your lips on his. He makes a surprised noise before kissing you back.

“Are you sure?”

He whispers it against your neck. You know he’s trying to give an out. Instead of taking it, in an act of lust, you put his hand between your legs.

God…you’ll never learn.

You wake to faint sound of Stevie Wonder singing and the smell of bacon.

Clutching your head, you take in your surroundings. The pillows askew and the sheets enclosing the fort. You scramble to put on your dress.

You find in the Aemond in the kitchen, at the stove. You turn down the music on the radio in the kitchen. He turns with a uncharacteristically bright smile.

“Hey sleepyhead,” a sick feeling works its way into your stomach at the sight of him cooking. “I tried to see if Daella was awake. I think it was soda we let her have, she’s still out.”

A little of tension is released from your shoulders after he says that. She didn’t see him here this morning or you in this state.

“I was thinking that maybe later on today we can go downtown. I saw a new musuem opened, and I think Daella might like it.”

“Oh ummm ok,” you mutter, not really listening to him. “You just can’t be here when she wakes up.”

Aemond blinks, smile faltering a bit. He turns back to the stove to shut the gas off before giving you confused look.

“Why?”

“Because she’ll know you stayed over, and then she might think it’s going to a regular occurrence… which it won’t be.”

“I’m her father, what is wrong will her thinking I’m around,” he frowns.

“Nothing, but she’s gotten used to a certain way of things. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea,” your eyes flicker to the hall nearest the kitchen.

“Her or someone else.”

Your eyes snap back to him. The two of your stare each other down before Aemond scoffs, and moves past you towards the living area.

“I can take the hint. You got what you wanted and now I need to to go,” he leans down to put his shoes on.

“That’s not fair.”

“No, you begging me to fuck you then telling me to leave is unfair,” he grabs his coat.

A part of you is surprised by his outburst. You always assumed that ship had sailed for him; he did date someone immediately after the divorce. The divorce he caused.

“Just answer me one thing - was this to get back or something. Make me think something has changed just to rip it away.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Frankly, you don’t have good answer for what came over you last night. He doesn’t give you time to collect a proper thought, he just gives you a glare before turning and leaving.

Helaena has been giving a look that makes you anxious. Shifty eyes followed by a fake smile

The painting session with Daella had been a success, right down the stick figure she made of you. While she sits at the table, eating, Hel and you start to clean up the mess.

“What’s your problem,” you finally whisper. Her head whips up from the cups filled with stained water.

“Nothing,” she replies quickly. You can see the gears in her brain moving. She sighs before motioning to the kitchen. The two of you walk to dump the water out “We are back in a good place, and promised I wouldn’t let us get back to where we were, and especially not bc of dishonestly.”

Your brows furrow at her serious tone.

“Aemond called me yesterday,” you tense up as she eyes you. “He told me what happened this past Friday.”

Snitch.

“He sounded really upset,” continues Helaena, and you catch help but throw your hands up in the air.

“Was it right for me to do? Maybe not, but it takes two to do what we did,” you says exasperated. “Why is it always poor fucking Aemond.”

She looks taken aback by your ire towards him.

“Look I don’t want you guys to be upset with each other. You need to talk this out.”

Despite the anger you feel about him telling his sister, guilt creeps in. You wouldn’t have even thought out taking that far if you knew he would take it as an invitation to start something up.

You sigh. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

You’re sure you will hear an earful at therapy. Perhaps you deserve it too. Helaena suddenly lets out a giggle.

“What?”

“It’s just… who needs reality tv when I have Aemond and you.”

You reach over a pinch her. She’s not wrong, Aemond and you are messes.

A constant cycle of mess.

#sorry this took longggg #i fell asleep before dinner #ate then had to pack #had to finish it this morning #anyway I hope you like it #my messy babies #like it was SERIOUS for reader #naur he was listening to love songs in the morning…#what good pussy does ✊🏽

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screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse · 1 year

Text

Top of the Stack, Issue 26

Greetings friends,

just a quick hello from me before the month is out! February was rough in so many ways. I only posted a few updates on Twitter and kept folks up to date through the discord server, so if you’ve been wondering why I’ve been kinda quiet, here’s a sign of life!

I’m ok! My family’s been put through it this month, with first my godfather passing away, then my dad suffering a stroke just three weeks ago, and now my mum’s apartment being uninhabitable thanks to a broken heater that the landlord isn’t really fussed about repairing. In the middle of winter. There’s other stuff going on I won’t go into here, but these next few months will be eventful. Something something unprecedented times.

The good news: after three weeks in hospital, receiving genuinely excellent care, my dad is back home! He’s made a remarkable recovery. Thankfully, mum can stay with him while she looks for a new place to live — it means she’ll worry less, and he can help her with the paperwork. It’s very German of him, I think. Give a man paperwork to do and he learns to walk again.

I took a break from streaming and everything throughout all that because there was no way I could have even pretended to be a functional human being. My sister and I also both stayed with our mum for the first week after dad’s stroke, and every single day was so exhausting, emotionally and physically. As healing as it was to have all four of us together, and see how much it helped my parents to have us show up like that and be present, there’s still a cost to it. You’re running on survival mode — the three of us had to remind each other to eat, to drink enough, to take sit down — and at the same time there’s a want for normalcy. To enjoy the time together, to dig for another silly joke, another laugh. For my dad, it was a huge part of his early recovery: to know that this was not the end.

Once I came back home and things were looking so much better than the week before, I just let myself rest. I went back to work, but the remainder of the time, I played video games. I’d torn through Horizon Zero Dawn the first weekend to distract myself, and then it was straight on to Forbidden West. The right amount of game, at the right time. (I really mostly played it to turn my brain off, but it turns out I caught thoughts in spite of myself: there’s a blog and video essay coming about knowledge as an objective and theme in both games’ narratives.) I’ve slowed it down now, but I still sit down nearly every evening to play more. I can enjoy it for what it is, and playing it doesn’t bring anything back up. But it really helped.

Can a video game save a life? Yes. Without that distraction, my mind would have turned itself inside-out with grief. It is grief, even when you’re not (yet) bereaved. Only time will tell how we all process this. Thus far, the relief over my dad’s quick progress has bolstered us, I think. But there’ll be more to deal with, as there always is.

I’m back to streaming and making videos and writing now, after taking time to adjust to everyday life and recalibrate my energy. I did a recording session for Bioshock first; sort of as a practice run for to-camera stuff and interacting at least with an asynchronous audience. This gave me the added safety net of being able to just stop at any point without having to manage any (even positive!) reaction in the moment. That went well, however, so I felt confident in streaming again on Friday. I enjoy it so much, and I knew that taking a break was the right choice precisely when my feeling switched from being glad I had nothing on on a Friday night for a while to being excited to stream again.

Now we’re heading into March and I hope that it will be a kinder time for all of us. Be gentle with yourselves 💜

#life update #tw death #tw stroke #tw grief

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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My eyes just started burning and watering?? Very weird. I am home! Safe from the incoming storms. I am really tired but I feel very accomplished. It was a good day. Even if it was stupid stupid hot out.

I did have a nice time though. I slept pretty well last night. And woke up in a good mood. I liked my outfit and my hair looked good. James even said so.

I left here, got breakfast, and headed to camp. I was actually got to camp on time and was able to go in the back way and got up to the art building without any issues.

I didn't have my cit today but that was alright. I was able to get everything set up and was only a little frazzled in the heat. I ended duo throwing shorts on because my thighs hurt from the heat. Something that hadn't happened this summer basically at all. But apparently today is one of the last 90 degree days for the next week at least. I hope that's true.

I had great kids today. I tried my best to ration out the objects for the jars so that no one group was getting all the best stuff. But of course everyone thinks everyone else has the best stuff. But man I tried. I would get even more little things later. But it's still really hard to make sure there is enough things!!

Thankfully though it's going well. And the kids really like the project. And I really like watching them figure out the best way to decorate them. And while they work I got to sew things.

I got three new stuffies done. One large bear, one small bear, and one bunny. The new bunnies are going to be so much better then the sort of square ones I had last year. I am excited. And I got some great feedback from some coworkers and kids and that was awesome.

I was a little short because I was to hot. But I tried really hard not to let it leak out. I would just text Jess the nasty stuff I wanted to say to people.

Lunch was fine. A black bean burger. Not my favorite but I wasn't to hungry anyway. I hung out with Laura for a few minutes. And she promised to bring me the tank vaccum so I could get my table clean for when Frenchie comes home on Friday. I am excited to have him back. I hope it doesn't stress him out to much. I'm not sure how she's been taking care of him. I hope he's doing well.

I only had one group in the afternoon. My youngest campers in day camp one. And they were super sweet I decided they would make their memory jars as memory cups because I wasn't sure about them having glass jars. But they did such a nice job and their pieces were very cute.

I had checked in with Alexi. And after my group was gone and I was cleaned up and everything was safely under the tent, I headed out.

I drove out to Timonium to go to the dollar store there. It's not actually a dollar store anymore. But I still got some good stuff. Glass beads and little things I thought would be cool. I hope this can last me the rest of the week. Fingers crossed.

I went home after that. It was not a bad drive. Though people were being dumb. I got home in one piece and was very excited when I saw Sweetp in the window while I was parking. And then I saw James. And I was like !!! Hello!!!

I came up here and I had a hotdog. James was also having a hotdog. And then they got to work cleaning out sandals from being in the lake yesterday. And I started cleaning the tanks

This took forever. I had to go up and down the ladder to get to Frenchie's tank and it too like 15 bucket fulls to fully rinse it. But it looks great. James helped towards the end because my hands were hurting and getting weak and was afraid I was going to drop the bucket.

Next was the bedroom tank. That one took a lot of work. James tried to help and thought it was clean enough but they didn't take all the water out and I got a little frustrated but it was fine. We sorted it out and now both tanks are pretty clean!! They will cycle until Friday. I think I'm going to get another fish and maybe some freshwater shrimp?? We will see.

I did some organizing. I caught up on my knitting. And James helped me cut some more plushies while I put eyes in the finished friends from today. I have a bag of things to sew now so I'm excited for that. Something to do this week.

Now we are in bed. Both showered and comfy. I am planning on staying at camp the rest of the week. Even though I've really been enjoying coming home. It's alright. I'll enjoy camp for the last couple nights.

I hope you all have a great night. Take care of each other. Wash your hands!!!

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flydotnet · 8 months

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Répondez, s'il-vous-plaît (it's a fanfic in English don't flee)

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?” Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

Up until yesterday, I had no idea what I'd write for this day. We're a third in and some days do have prompts that boggle my mind.

Fortunately, I got out of there by going to Paris on Friday, seeing good ol' Prism, and wow actually I know what characters I'm gonna use for this oneshot! Thanks Prismou!

Don't look into the actual context around this scene too hard. Like for "Egg Basket" from June, it's in reference to a yet-unpublished piece of fanfiction I've been working on with friends. We still can't release any concrete info about it, so for now, you'll have to do with Vague Setting That's Clearly French.

I'm a bit cheeky about it, though, I'll admit, since I purposefully gave this fic a French title to allude to the fact this is set in France with mostly French characters who speak French among themselves. What's funny is that I've never seen "RSVP" in anything ever in my daily life, only "je vous prie de bien vouloir répondre". Maybe it's one of those Parisian sayings I don't get. I just thought it really fit the fic.

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

Répondez, s'il-vous-plaît

Summary: répondez s'il-vous-plaît (RSVP): French for please reply. Though francophones may use more usually "prière de répondre" or "je vous prie de bien vouloir répondre", it is common enough.

Everyone has their issues, and sometimes, it's bound to bubble up to the surface. JB and Maxine just… didn't plan on finding out their friend's the way they did.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa (with a good dose of universe mixing and OC/Canon!)

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here.

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

Today was supposed to be one of those innocuous days where her best friends aren’t playing soccer for a living for a couple weeks, where they just spend the day together talking about whatever and doing what friends do: hang out, drink, eat, walk, pet a dog, pet a horse. Whatever Maxine was meaning for it to be, it wasn’t playing nursemaid.

Instead, it’s turned into a shitshow and she doesn’t know where to direct the anger that’s swelled inside of her. Maybe it isn’t even anger, who knows. It could be frustration, it could be disappointment – all she knows is that, whatever it is, it’s drowning in slimy concern.

She should’ve known something was afoul when Yuzo wasn’t responding to her text messages. He’s usually so uptight about responding to her in time, he’d have had apologized for responding as little as half an hour later, to some of the most useless stuff possible. This man would apologize for not giving his seat in the subway to a barely-showing pregnant woman because he couldn’t actually stand on his right foot, courtesy of a practice mishap.

All in all, Maxine was expecting something iffy by the time JB and she concluded they both didn’t have news from their pal – and she wishes it was just him oversleeping on his day off, or having forgotten to respond by misplacing his phone somewhere, or some other stupid explanation that wasn’t… that.

When JB and she arrived here, they were greeted by a door left open, if just barely, and a passed-out Yuzo hanging on the floor of his own kitchenette. Most odd was that he was dressed to go outside and had in fact not even taken off his coat nor his scarf, not even his beanie, which was still on his head. On the counter, barely put there, was what clearly was a doctor’s notice with a medicine list.

Unfortunately, doctors speak a language only pharmacists can decode, and neither JB nor Maxine is one. She only knows the names of horse medicine and ketamine isn’t going to help Yuzo – at least, not to rise back to his feet, because God knows it can help with other issues.

“Max, what’s happening to him?” JB asks, downright panicked.

This happens to be how she realizes she’s never explained shit to him and instead just sent him on a wild goose chase for the nearest pharmacy.

“I’m not entirely sure, to be honest, but I think it’s, uh…” She sighs. “How did you even make yourself so sick to begin with, you idiot…?”

“It’s my fault, I’m sure of it.”

“Why would it be?”

JB is the kindest man alive on Earth, but this is stupid.

“I was the one who had the flu first! I must’ve given it to Yuzo and now he’s…” he points at the man on the sofa, “like that!””

“JB, you’re not the sole cause why Yuzo’s like this, I’m certain of that. You were nowhere near as bad as that.” She slowly inserts a thermometer inside his mouth as she speaks, cradling his head with her other hand. “Maybe he’s not used to our European bugs yet. He’s not been here for that long, after all.”

“Maybe I should’ve been more cautious?” There he is, freaking out again. “Maybe if I had worn a mask, or told him not to come inside, he’d be—”

“JB, he was going to catch something eventually. We all have caught something on the subway or the RER. Stop worrying about how he got it, it’s not going to serve much use.” She takes the thermometer out and cusses as soon as the number comes into view. “Shit.”

“It’s bad?”

Maxine glances back at Yuzo. He’s frowning in a fitful sleep, everything about him soaking in sweat and what may be tears, his skin white as his blanket and yet so bright where it’s concerning.

“It’s bad-bad. His fever’s over forty.”

She puts the thermometer back where it came from: the mess of things JB found at the foot of the sofa when they came in.

“What?! That’s…”

“I’m gonna get a bucket and some water, he—”

As Maxine gets up, she feels a grip on her forearm that makes her stop dead in her tracks. The grip isn’t very strong, far from it, but it’s vicious: now staring at her, or trying his hardest to at least, is Yuzo, whose half-open eyes with unfocused irises are freezing her blood in place.

He’s trying to tell her something, as far as she can tell, but it’s gibberish to her. She can’t even tell if it’s her Japanese that’s not good enough to understand it (and it wouldn’t surprise her) or if Yuzo really is incoherent in his speech. All she can tell is that he’s calling out to… someone. First it was his mother, but then, it sounded like names Maxine had never heard about.

“JB, can you get the bucket of water and a washcloth, please?” She asks as she lowers back to her boyfriend’s level. “I’m afraid of what would happen if I left him.”

“I’m on it!”

“Thanks a lot,” she tells her best friend before focusing back on their shared companion. “What were you trying to tell me, honey…?”

Unfortunately, she gets no response from him as he slips back into his fitful sleep.

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

It takes around thirty minutes before, at long last, Yuzo reemerges from whatever hell of the mind he was stuck in. It’s clear as soon as she can actually see something in his eyes, not just haze and a sort of desperate plea.

“Ah, you’re awake!” JB says as he rushes to the sofa, the bag of medicine in hand.

Yuzo flinches at the noise, gritting his teeth.

“I think you’re too loud, his head must hurt.”

“Ah, crap! Sorry, pal!”

Maxine can’t help but sigh with fondness, then focus back on their patient.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hurts,” he replies in Japanese, and that’s how Maxine can interpret it.

“What’s he saying?”

She lifts her eyes to JB, who looks discernibly worried out of his skin, rubbing his arms for warmth.

“He isn’t feeling too good, from what I can tell. It’d be more obvious if he spoke French, but it’s not a surprise he’s fallen back to Japanese.”

“Yeah, true…”

It seems as if even hearing this conversation has awaken something in their friend, whose arms barely manage to lift him up.

“Maxine…?” His voice is hoarse, his barking cough sounds wet. “What’re you doing here…?”

Both JB and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good, you can actually speak coherent French! That means you’re doing better.”

“What happened, I’m… confused?”

JB runs to her side, smiling a little – no doubt from relief.

“Sorry for that, pal! We found you passed out on your floor earlier. You really worried us, you know?”

Yuzo looks like he’s trying to solve an equation with two unknowns on the fly to very mixed results.

“I don’t know what the doctor diagnosed you with, Yuzo, but it must be terrible. Do you mind if I take your temperature?”

“N-no, go for it.”

They all stand in silence as she does. It takes longer than the first time, and despite how heavy it makes the air as a result, it’s somewhat reassuring. Eventually, it beeps again, and this time, Maxine’s eyes don’t bulge out of their sockets.

“Thirty-eight point nine,” she announces. “It’s not good by any means, but it’s better than before, that’s for sure.”

Yuzo stares at her with

“Hang on, Max! We’ve still got all that stuff!”

As she stares at the bag in JB’s hands, she feels utterly stupid.

“Oh, snap, you’re right.”

It only takes them a couple minutes to get a couple of pills inside Yuzo, who doesn’t even protest – his throat does, but he doesn’t. In the meantime, she observes him, watches the colour on his face slowly come back even if he remains ashen pale compared to usual anyway.

She has questions swirling through her mind, some dating from before today and some so fresh they still feel crispy. She waits to ask them, sits through JB making sure his friend isn’t going to lose consciousness again. For a second, she wonders if he knows, so less puzzled yet just as heartbroken as she was earlier.

“Hey, Yuzo… Can I ask you something?” She eventually says.

He looks back at her

“Earlier, when your fever spiked, you said some things out loud.” Her eyes harden. “I doubt you remember much from it, but I still wanted to ask: do you know what you could’ve said? I think you were talking in Japanese.”

He takes time to process. Jesus, Maxine, you know he’s already struggling with French and a fever, don’t make both harder on him.

“It… depends. I was deep in a dream, I think.”

“You clutched Max’s arm and told her stuff as you cried,” JB adds.

Yuzo changes faces immediately, losing all confidence.

“Oh… I know what I must’ve said.” He takes a pause, gets a coughing fit out (she hands him a glass of water as soon as it’s done). “You said… You said you’d never leave me.” He gulps. “At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what I said.”

“Do you know who you were saying that?”

“My mother… presumably.”

He doesn’t sound sure, but it doesn’t prevent JB from wanting confirmation, even if his face is hesitant.

“You said that to your… mom?”

“I don’t see anyone else I could’ve asked in my sleep…”

“Not even one of your friends or teammates?”

Maxine prefers to make sure because, come to think of it, she’s been dating this man for months and he’s never told her about his family. Every time she asked, he recoiled and she dropped the topic entirely. Which means…

“No, I’ve never been ill in front of them.”

“It’s normal to call out to your mom when you’re sick, though, I do it all the time,” JB continues. “So why do you look so… uneasy?”

In front of them, Yuzo rolls back inside himself, shoulders rounded like a hedgehog protecting himself. It’s bizarre to witness.

“It’s… I’ve never gotten along with my parents.” Despite his hoarse voice, he sounds clear as day, suddenly. “They’ve always held more interest within my brothers.”

“You have siblings?”

This is the first time Maxine hears about potential in-laws.

“Two brothers. One older, one younger. Engineer, doctor.” He shivers. “I wanted to be a soccer player. It didn’t make them happy.”

She doesn’t like where it’s going. Don’t tell her they…

“So when any of us would get sick, it was first them, and then me. I think they didn’t really want me to be born, but they still raised me.”

Her blood is boiling. Who are those people? How can you be so cruel? How could they’ve given the world such a sweet man…?

JB and Maxine are staring at each other, speechless.

“It’s fine, it’s just… How I was raised,” Yuzo continues to try and justify. “

“Actually, uhm… That’s just…”

JB is struggling to find his wording, fretting again (and who can blame him, that’s quite the unexpected package to drop onto their lap); so Maxine, like the good ol’ pal she is, takes the helm once more.

“Can I be very blunt about that?”

“Yes…?”

She’s sorry, she really is, especially since he looks so troubled, trembling from head to toes and hair risen on his arms; but it must be said. It must be done.

“Fuck your parents and fuck your brothers while I’m at it. They should’ve taken care of you before it got this bad.” She gets JB closer to her. “And neither of us is gonna let you down like they gave up on you.”

“It’s…” Tears prickle at his eyes. “Thank you…”

“It’s no big deal!”

“Just tell us when you’re ill, though. I’d rather not have that scare again!”

“I promise.”

She cups his face again, relief finally coming back to her.

“Now, you should get some rest. JB and I will stay here, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I need to get my sleepover stuff…”

“Well, at least one of us will be here at all times,” Maxine chuckles. “Unless you want us both?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he replies with a bit of a cough stuck in his throat. “It’s already a lot. Thank you very much.”

#whumptober 2023 #no.10 #“you said you'd never leave”#captain tsubasa #fic #oc/canon #because life's too short not to invent a gf for a fav #also featuring jean baptiste hugo because i love this doofus #prism made him say “tu lui parles pas d'âge” in our fic and i'm giggling every time i remember

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lindsaywesker · 8 months

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day (green tea!) Welcome to the weekend!

Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go? No, seriously, where did that week go?

First of all, many thanks to everyone that got involved with Throwback Thursday on my page. Yesterday’s word was MOTIVATION. Lord knows, some days we really need it! Some days, particularly when you wake up in the dark, it’s difficult to find the motivation to leave that warm bed! But we get there eventually (bills have got to be paid!) Some of us – like C.c. Corroyer – have retired, so she has no need for motivation at all; she is living life at her own pace and will write her book when she feels motivated (and not before!)

At present, the Wesker household is not too well. I’m having a few issues with my gums and I definitely feel that I have some kind of RSI in my wrists (common amongst people that type of a lot of words!) The Trouble is convinced she has come back from Jamaica with ‘dengue fever’ (kindly given to us by mosquitos), and I suspect she will be a few pounds lighter when she gets over it; she’s hasn’t really eaten since Sunday! Thankfully, dengue cures itself and her immune system should soon kill it off. It needs to! We are going down to Hove on Saturday afternoon, so she needs to be fit for Lady Wesker’s assorted tasks.

Mum makes me laugh. She loves a little chocolate every now and then, so I always buy her some Cadbury’s Fruit & Nut. Last month, I brought her four bars, so there would still be some when I came down this month. Mum sent me a message in the week, “Don’t buy any more chocolate. I’ve eaten all four bars!” I stared at the message and shook my head. “They were for you AND me!” I replied. I’m not buying her anymore! I can do without. She says the weather has been nice down in Hove, so I’ll be able to walk down to the seafront on Sunday morning.

Really hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’: The Letter R (Part Four). Executive Producer is the young man who actually found me my latest blue towelling robe (which I love) but Mark Dezzani is much more, he’s a radio broadcaster, journalist, producer and director, so a man of many talents! There won’t be any more executive producers until we get to The Letter S (the biggest letter in the musical alphabet.)

I actually have time for a walk today, so I am going to grab that opportunity, get some fresh air and stretch my limbs. Nothing cures ailments like the elements! I shall also use today to get ready for next week. Lots of prepping to do, which won’t help my RSI but I like to be prepared. My music industry news story for my class on Monday will be about Spotify’s new creation, an app that allows you to create mixtapes and splice in your own audio. Wow, remember those mixtapes we use to make for girls? Cassette tapes with decorated spines and a hand-written track list. I managed to impress The Trouble with one of my mixtapes and she still has it. Spotify’s mixtape idea is not very romantic but it will allow you to insert links; a totally unique radio show for that very special person. I hate Spotify but that’s a cool idea.

Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #radio

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blackmagicspecialist786-blog · 1 year

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California Is In for a Continuing Parade of Storms

SAN FRANCISCO -The morning of Thursday three men employed handsaws to cut the fallen tree that blocked from the entrance of their. City workers had put trees with cones, but did not remove the tree and residents of the neighborhood decided to take things in their own hands. "We just want to clear it so cars can drive, so people can pass through," said one of the men, Francis Broome, who was removing branches from the walkway within the Western Addition neighborhood when I passed across. One man was using an air blower to get rid of the debris. "Some community teamwork!" Another person said. The group sought to restore some peace and calm after the most severe of the week's storms swept throughout in the Bay Area, just days after a record-breaking rainstorm during New Year's Day. The raging river that hit California over the course of Wednesday and Thursday shut off power for thousands of residents, forced evacuations and caused dangerous waves on the coastline. If the storm did have one motif it was the staggering number of downrooted trees which is the most obvious indication of a state moving between extremes in the environmental of drought and flood, as my coworkers Shawn Hubler and Jill Cowan discuss. If you're experiencing a return to the sunshine of California It's likely to be only for a short time. While California's Golden State is expected to be spared from rain this Friday afternoon, it's set for a flurry of storms after that, which will include a intense one on Tuesday and Monday. The pounding could last into mid-January. "We are not out of the woods by any stretch of the imagination," said Brian Ferguson, a spokesman for the California Governor's Office of Emergency Services. "We are basically in the eye of the storm right now." Over the last few days you've been writing to me regarding how dealing with and being affected by the events which are both good and bad. Here's a sample of your thoughts with me, lightly edited "The greenery of the typically gray Los Angeles hills makes this the most beautiful time to be for me in Southern California. My trees are strong while my plants are flourishing. Utilizing one for just a couple of weeks isn't a problem for me in the least." --- Bill Mayer, Los Angeles "We've been without power within Mendocino County for more than 24 hours. There's no heat, too which is why we're inside wearing layers of clothing as well as scarves, knit hats and scarfs. The only way to communicate is a mobile service with the lowest bars. Making food and cooking has become a challenge. We're lucky to have a few Goal Zero batteries to recharge phones and keep our refrigerator operating, and I'll look after an elderly neighbor this morning." --- Robin Applegarth, Gualala "My husband and I travelled on Wednesday, on Route 101 from Salinas through Santa Barbara. The winds and rain that fell close to Santa Barbara were powerful. The eucalyptus plants along the coast shed their branches. It was quite a snarl, but vehicles were actually slowing down for the first time in a while. But, I am thankful that it rained." -Amy Brewster, Salinas. Amy Brewster, Salinas "We have been hard hit with heavy snow that has fallen over the last couple of weeks. There was a lot of snow-blowing and shoveling. Trees that were damaged due to drought years have been slashed, making power a continuous issue. We are however taking advantage of this! There is a generator which is extremely helpful. You just need to get a grip and tackle it." --- Russ Woods, South Lake Tahoe Read the full article

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rendevousz · 3 years

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little hacker

avengers x fem!teen!reader

characters: brief clint barton, tony stark, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, peter parker

summary: you hacked into tony's systems and he, along with the team, track you down.

warnings: mentions of death and a car crash, hacking written by someone who has no idea how it works

word count: 3241

note: hi um this is my first oneshot on tumblr i hope you like it!!

you were 14 when you first met the avengers. your family had gotten into a tragic car accident and you were the only one who made it out alive, leaving you in excessive guilt and burden; guilt because you were the only one granted a second chance at life and burden because you had to live your life, barely scraping by as you were dropped the responsibility of taking care of your sick grandmother.

at 11, where all that the kids your age had to worry about was whether their pocket money was enough to get themselves an after-school snack, you worried whether or not the money left to your name was enough to survive.

at 11, where girls worried about their changing bodies and asked their mothers about it, you had to figure it all out yourself and with the help of your trusty laptop, the only gadget you had, one that your dad had gifted to you after you had gotten 100s for all your tests at age 8. he thought you were his little prodigy and figured a laptop would treat you well. you took care of it well because while you didn't want to spend the last of your money left, —that was specifically set aside for your grandmother's hospital bills— you wanted to hold on to the laptop for as long as you could, as a reminder of your loving father, as well as the memories the item held, after you've watched movies with pretty much all of your passed family members on that laptop at different points in your life. that was why whenever the thing lagged due to how much you've been using it, you almost always figure out how to fix it until it was good as new.

at 12, while your classmates had their parents to protect them when they were out at night, you feared for your life whenever you were out past dark. which led you to learning self defence from youtube videos. you learned them pretty quickly and with your sharp-wittedness, you no longer feared to be out at night. you even had the honours of trying out your skills when some men thought they could get you just because you were smaller than them.

at 12, where kids your age were having fun, enjoying their childhood, you had no choice but to be mature and think for the good of yourself and your sick grandmother. you were forced to grow up and you were probably more mature and intelligent than the rest of your classmates combined.

and at 13, you realised that money wasn't going to grow on trees and the money you were left with wasn't going to last forever. it had to last until you were old enough to work. but with your grandmother's condition getting worse and worse, you were forced to drop out of school. you were upset because you loved it. you loved knowledge. but family came first and the only thing that your knowledge increased on was on computers.

which led to you being able to hack into tony stark's bank account at only 14. you had no other choice than to steal money and who better to steal it from than a guy whose pocket change could probably last you another five years or so? you knew who tony stark was, the whole world knows who he is. and you thought that maybe he would be too preoccupied with his alter ego saving the whole world, along with his group of earth's mightiest heroes that he wouldn't notice the tiny bit of money you'd stolen from him.

of course the billionaire had been alerted immediately by his AI when you'd accessed into his systems. "security breach?" he exclaimed, immediately dropping the tool he was tinkering his suit with in his lab.

he spent about 3 minutes, that was how long you took touring around in his systems, observing what you did in it. he watched as you did nothing about the highly confidential information he had and instead, stole....5 grand from his bank account? that was barely a scratch to his account. what was going on?

he had requested FRIDAY to track down the hacker, mainly because he was perplexed that someone had hacked into his well protected system just to steal a tiny bit of money but it seems that even FRIDAY couldn't track down where it came from.

he told the team and it was then that everyone worried how dangerous the hacker could possibly be.

"who steals just 5 grand after hacking into a billionaire's bank account?" clint frowned after tony had explained the whole situation. "i mean, if i managed to hack into your systems, i'd do way more than just steal a couple bucks."

"exactly. and who knows? they might just be waiting for the right moment to install dangerous malware into the system and until we find the culprit, they're roaming somewhere out there with all our confidential information right at the tip of their fingers. if they decide to use it against us..." tony trailed off, for once having a worried expression on his otherwise nonchalant face. he's never been this clueless about what to do with any sort of technical issues concerning the avengers or himself.

you on the other hand, after getting complacent that you weren't caught, kept doing so for the next couple months or so. you had no ill intentions, just trying to scrape by. the whole situation puzzled tony. he didn't care how much you've taken from him in total now, you were right; it was merely pocket change to him. but you were still considered a threat since you had free access to his systems and he didn't even know who you were or where you were.

that was until you made a tiny mistake, one that if tony wasn't spending every waking moment trying to track you down he wouldn't have noticed. and though it was a small mistake, it certainly was going to change how things ran from then on.

that afternoon, after having just gotten back from visiting your grandmother at the hospital, you were planning to get more money from the billionaire's bank account at the comfort of your own home. god, hospital bills were expensive. once you had had a little snack, you settled down on the couch and opened your laptop. but being the quick-witted person you were, before the screen in front of you lit up, you saw movement from behind you.

your heart raced. you could handle fighting people but those usually happened in alleys at nighttime. this was in your home, your safe place. you made sure to lock the doors and there weren't fire escapes outside your windows so how did the intruder get in?

you could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous to get to you and so you let them. you let the person think that they were going to get you without a fight but when they were right behind you, you swiftly turned your body around and jumped over the couch. the masked intruder let out a surprised yelp and the two of you fought for a bit. before you knew it, you had them pinned under you in just ten seconds.

"wha– how– what?" it sounded like a boy. you looked down at him and noticed his red and blue spandex suit. you frowned. wasn't this the friendly neighbourhood spiderman guy or something? why was a superhero breaking into your home?

he was coughing from your knee pressing down onto his chest and you lifted it slightly, enough for him to breathe but not enough to escape. he seemed grateful though because he muttered a seemingly embarrassed 'thanks'.

"get off the kid or i'll blast you off of him myself."

you look up and saw the iron man repulsor aimed right at you, and obviously iron man himself was standing right there in the middle of your small apartment. behind him stood a redhead, who you knew as the black widow, aiming a pistol at you, and a man with a shield, captain america. the spiderboy must've come in through the window and unlocked the door for them.

when you made eye contact with steve, he frowned in confusion. you looked way too young to be the culprit they had expected. he muttered a quiet 'wait, what?' before tony stark revealed himself, his iron man faceplate opening.

"um...kid? where are your parents? or guardian? we need to see them because there's been some highly illegal activity coming from this address." the man in the suit spoke. you stayed still, knee still pressing against the boy under you, frowning at the adults in the room. they noticed your apprehensiveness and slowly lowered their weapons. "we're not here to hurt you, you can release the boy now," steve told you gently.

you usually weren't one to trust easily but since these people were known superheroes, you reluctantly stood up, still anxious of the possibilities of what they could do to you. the spiderboy got up too and dusted his back, before going to stand next to steve. you were confused as to why these heroes were breaking in your home until you remembered what you had been up to for the past weeks. how could you forget when that was the only reason you were still surviving?

your eyes widened with fear when they met tony's soft ones. he looked at you with such care and worry that you were reminded of your late dad. the man in front of you wasn't the arrogant man you've watched on youtube. you felt bad for stealing from him now. you used to think that he deserved it, despite how little you took compared to how much he had. the man knelt down before you so he didn't appear so big in front of you, seeing your frightened expression. little did he know you were frightened for a totally different reason.

"anyone else living here, kid? because i tracked down this address and someone has been stealing money from me. i might need to have a little talk with them." he explained, looking around the house. you fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, scared of what would come once you came clean about your actions. you were scared you were going to be taken in for juvenile crime but you were also scared of the consequences of lying straight to their faces. so you took a deep breath before deciding to just tell the truth.

"t–that would be me, sir." you admitted in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire you had been stealing from. a few shocked looks from the team and an incredulous 'what?' from tony had you biting the inside of your cheeks in fear.

"i'm truly sorry about that, sir. i..." you trailed off, debating whether or not to justify your actions because you thought that he might not even want to listen to it. "i had to pay off my grandmother's hospital bills because she is very sick. my family died a few years ago in a car crash and i was the only one who made it. i was left some money to my name but having to survive on that along with paying off nana's bills, it was bound to run out. i...i thought that since you were a billionaire, stealing a few thousands wouldn't matter to you...i'm so sorry, sir. i– i'll start working to pay you back.." you stuttered out, holding your hands together so it would minimise the shaking.

tony's mouth opened and closed, like fish out of water, not knowing what to say to you. he stood up and you were on the verge of breaking down right then and there, feeling as small as you did before he knelt before you. "p–please don't report me, sir. i– i don't know what would happen to my nana if you do.. i swear to you that i didn't mess with your other files. i only accessed the system for your bank account and that was it. i have no ill intentions, please don't report me.." you were now the one kneeling down in front of him, begging.

the team were flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before them and tony was quick to get you off your knees, which scared you even more because the death grip of his metal hands on your forearms had your mind running wild at the millions of possibilities of what he would do to you. was he going to kill you and leave you somewhere that people were never going to find your body? or was he going to dispose of you and use his power to remove you permanently from the system so no one came looking for you? he had the power to ruin your life and you feared that.

snapping you out of your mental breakdown, he spoke softly. "hey, it's okay." and that was when you realised the 'death grip' he had on your forearms had only been your paranoia getting the best of you. he was barely even touching you. your teary eyes looked up at his soft, brown ones in fear.

then he smiled at you.

"it's okay. i understand the reason why you did what you did. you're a good kid, your nana is so lucky to have you. what's your name?" he knelt down before you once again, knowing that him standing tall in his iron man suit terrified you. "y/n." you responded timidly.

"how old are you, y/n?" this time, it was steve who asked. you had forgotten that there were other people in the room, too consumed by your fear for your life a few moments ago. "i'm fourteen, mr america, sir." you whispered out, the sight of captain america in person intimidating you until you saw a kind smile on his face.

"you're pretty young to be doing what you've been doing, y/n. are you aware that you're the first person to be able to hack into my heavily protected, supposedly impenetrable network? many have tried to do so and failed, and they were really smart people too. have you been doing this for a while?" tony asked.

"um...my father gifted me this laptop when i was 8 because i did exceptionally well in school. he believed i was a child prodigy and let me have a laptop since he knew my studies wouldn't be affected by the distraction of entertainment. i used to only hack into games to cheat my way up the ranks but only recently i tried something else since i had nothing better to do and i've been out of school for a while now. i knew you were a billionaire so i tried just for the heck of it and surprised myself when i got in on the first try. and then i saw your bank account details and i really needed money so i stole some... again, i'm so sorry about that." you apologised, looking down at your feet.

he couldn't believe it. you were just messing around and you managed to get into his system? you, a mere fourteen year old who was out of school, managed to single handedly do what geniuses around the world had failed to do?

he was initially just going to have a talk with the hacker, and in case they were dangerous and had backup, he brought his own. but bringing steve, natasha and peter proved to be unnecessary when the culprit turned out to be you.

"where did you learn those moves?" natasha stepped closer towards you. you looked up at the redhead, noticing the glare she had on you when she aimed her pistols at you was replaced with curiosity.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt even more, embarrassed to tell her that you learned to fight from a couple of youtube videos when she had gotten years of actual training. you were pathetic compared to her. "i, um, i learned them from some youtube videos."

her eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. you hadn't gotten professional training yet you moved like you had. peter had superhuman strength, agility and endurance yet you took him down in under ten seconds. sure it may have been a disadvantage to peter because he was caught off guard but he should've been able to take you down still.

now was tony going to let the chance of a lifetime slip by? no, of course he was immediately thinking of recruiting you. your dad had been right about you being a prodigy. you adapted to new skills quickly and you were perfect for recruitment.

"hey kid, wanna be an avenger?"

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped in shock. steve immediately turned to him, an incredulous look on his face as he glared dangerously at the billionaire. "stark, you wanna think about this for a minute?"

"thank about what, cap? you saw what she did to the spiderling. and she successfully hacked into my system on her first try and we took weeks to trace her. romanoff back me up here," he saw how impressed natasha was by you and he knew the redhead wasn't going to disagree. "stark's right, steve. she's only fourteen and she's capable of so much already. we need someone like her."

"exactly! she's only fourteen! this life is dangerous for her!" steve argued. peter then tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "hey, mr rogers, i'm a sixteen-year-old avenger and she took me down easily. not gonna lie, it hurt my pride, also my back when you flipped me over your shoulder," he turned to you but you didn't say anything because you couldn't see his facial expression. "but i think she's going to be okay, sir."

steve sighed before turning to you, the defeated expression on his face softening when you looked up at him with your doe eyes and a small smile. you didn't answer to tony just yet since it seemed that steve had a say in it as well but you were dying to say yes. not only were you not going to be reported for your crimes but to be recruited by iron man himself to be an avenger? who could say no to that? not you, at least, since you had nothing better to do with your life at the moment.

"well, what do you say, kid?"

your smile grew and you nodded happily. the team couldn't help but crack a smile at how happy you looked for the first time since they've encountered you.

"well, you should go pack your important stuff so we can go back to the tower. you're going to be moving in if you're an official member of the avengers." tony told you and you nodded, walking towards your room to start packing while the team sat on the couch to wait for you.

"wait, what's going to happen to my nana?" you turned back towards them, worry etched onto you face. "don't worry about it, kid. you can give me the details later and i'll settle it. she'll be in good hands." he assured. "okay." you mumbled in response.

you were actually going to be an avenger. "awesome.." you grinned to yourself as you packed.

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #captain america x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #teen!reader #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,�� I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Dr Reid #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

Text

The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ starting prompt: “Everything changed for me when I met her... My Beloved.”

♡ pairing: yandere! damian wayne (Robin) & fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “imagine me and you? I do. I think about day and night, it’s only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight. so happy together.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / in this AU everyone in the batfamily is a yandere and probably has a darling so yeah.

Gotham Academy, for the wealthy and elite one might say. you were one of the lucky ones who got accepted through their scholarship programs and busted your ass off to keep your grades up all years.

you had very few friends considering most Academy students hardly interacted those who they deemed poor. one friend you did have though was the Wayne heir himself. Damian was one of the first to introduce himself to you when you first arrived to Gotham Academy and really remained your friend throughout the years.

the fresh morning air blew in the wind, making you pull your jacket closer to you as you tried to find warmth in it. the jackets they provided for your uniform were extremely thin and hardly held in any kind of heat.

“hey! I think the Wayne kid is looking for you!” you heard your friend, Reagan tell you, “he’s waiting for you at the central garden!” you gave him a smile, thanking him for letting you know before running to where Damian usually was in the morning.

your mornings with Damian, when he would attend school, would start with him bringing you your favorite coffee and switching homework assignments.

unlike Damian, you were usually better in courses that had to do with humanities, such as history and english courses and you lacked the smarts that Damian had with science and math courses so the two of you would swap homework first thing in the morning.

“good morning Wayne,” you said, sitting down on the bench. he handed you his coffee, blowing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, “good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” he asked, making sure your eye bags weren’t too harsh.

you shrugged, “I’m okay. just stressed because of midterms and all of that. how did you sleep?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. “great considering we fell asleep on Facetime together,” he mentioned, “I did the ap calc homework that you can finally copy!” he added on.

Damian handed you the calc homework as he watched you scribble down the answers. he noticed that you had painted your nails a new color and touched the polish with his finger, “baby blue? that’s new,” he murmured. you nodded happily, “I love this color on me. I even brought color with me in case it chipped throughout the day!” you exclaimed.

you showed him the bottle and he grabbed it, “put it on me,” you were taken back by the request. you didn’t take Damian was the kind of guy to dabble in wearing polish but nevertheless complied and put the polish on it before grabbing his hand and blowing on it to make it dry quicker, “I didn’t know you wore nail polish!” you mentioned.

Damian thought for a moment.

“I don’t but that way people will know we’re matching,” he murmured as the warning bell rang off.

you and Damian walked slowly to your first period class. the summer going into your Senior year, Damian made it a duty of his to make sure that the two of you shared the same classes. so without you knowing, he had Tim hack into the Gotham Academy school system and pull Damian onto the rosters where you were enrolled in.

you found the similarities to be funny, however; some of the teachers wondered how the hell they put the two of you in every class together. some didn’t care considering you were able to keep Damian from saying smart shit to someone in class and others were just weirded out by the coincidence.

“god, I hate this class. you know Matt who sits in front of the class? I have to swear some gross comment about how great my legs look in the uniform by him at least twice every day.”

Damian’s eye twitched at what you had said, “does it bother you?” he asked, his fist clenched. you nodded annoyingly, “more than anything in the world. I can’t go one day without hearing the comments,” you groaned.

the two of you got to class but as you walked in, you had saw that Matt wasn’t in class and sighed in relief. Damian had told you he was running off to the bathroom before class started and just to write down whatever he missed while he was gone.

you sat down, immediately writing what was already on the board but as the class started, Damian still hadn’t shown up. you were beginning to think that maybe the coffee had upset his stomach but about half way through the class, Damian came and plopped down at his desk.

“where were you? Jackson nearly had a fit because you were late!” you muttered to him. he shrugged, taking out his pen and notebook before leaning over to copy what you had on yours.

it took about another twenty minutes when another teacher ran into the class frantically, “Matthew Harrison was just found in the garden, unconscious and is barely hanging onto his life!” the teacher told your teacher, making all of you gasp in surprise, “call an ambulance!”

you stared to Damian wide eyed, “my God, that’s insane! we were just there. I wonder who did it,” you told Damian, chewing your lip nervously, “I hope whoever did it doesn’t come for any of us.”

Damian could tell you were scared from the news and he quickly grabbed your hand, “I think you’re safe, beloved. you shouldn’t worry about it,” he assured you. you nodded, going back to writing down the notes, “hey, he finally got what he deserved for harassing you, right?” Damian mentioned.

you laughed shaking your head, “I guess but I mean, I hope he doesn’t die or anything,” that was the last thing you said before the both of you got to working on the work the teacher assigned for the class while she was gone.

Damian could tell you were shaken by the news but at the end of the day, he did what he had to do. someone was harassing his beloved and he’d be damned if they got away with it. it took every ounce of self restriction to stop himself from actually killing the idiot but the beating he actually gave him did more than enough to satisfy him for the time being.

two broken legs, a broken nose, and making him go blind in one eye was more than enough. the great thing about Gotham Academy was that because of how old the building was, cameras weren’t installed anywhere outside and any cameras that were inside were just in the upgraded part of the school which happened to be the front of the school and the gym.

the end of the day came as Damian had offered to take you home. you denied the request, telling him you wanted to walk to get some fresh air before you trapped yourself in your room for the rest of the night.

Damian was hesitant on letting you but at the end of the day, you weren’t his...yet. he knew his feelings for you weren’t exactly normal. far from it, actually.

when his feelings for you boiled over to damn near obsession, he confided in the one person he trusted the most and that was Dick. he practically confessed how he needed to be near or around you every day or else he would go insane. even if it was just seeing you from afar made his day a 100x better.

Dick laughed at his brothers confession because he knew it was about time it happened to him. he had gone through the same feelings when he met his now wife and so did Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Jason.

when Damian was finally confident enough to tell everyone else, they finally let him in on the family secret. these feelings were nothing to be afraid of. he should embrace them and hell, make his feelings get even ‘worse’. it was his job as your protector to feel that way and act on his instincts for you.

Damian got home, seeing his father and brother watching the news. they were covering what happened at school and a part of him laughed seeing the coverage.

“did you see what happened?” Dick asked his brother. Damian nodded, kicking off his shoes and laying on the other couch, “of course I did because I was the one who did it,” he said nonchalantly.

Bruce and Dick stared at him, wide eyed and shocked, “the scum was messing with my beloved. he was making disgusting comments about her and degrading her in a way she and I didn’t like. the piece of shit deserved more than what he got,” he stated, not even bothering to look at them to see their reaction.

“so it’s best we don’t investigate this, I assume?” Bruce asked, “you would assume right,” Damian replied.

Dick got off the couch and went on one knee to look at his brother, “Damian, you know the implications that comes with how you left him. you know that, right?” he stated. Damian stared at Dick with no fear in his eyes, “everything changed for me when I met her... my beloved. I would kill for her if I had too.”

Bruce sat in his seat, proudly smirking at what his son said. Dick nodded, walking back to the couch as Damian stood up to go to his bedroom, “it’s only a matter of what before I make her mine so expect her to be around soon enough,” he told them.

a few weeks had passed since the incident with your classmate. since then, you had gotten clingier to Damian, not wanting to be at the end of the beating. Daimian had no issue in it, he was practically basking in the touches and side hugs you were giving him.

you and Damian had decided to head back to his place after school to get some studying done. Friday nights were usually reserved to studying at your place but Damian had offered to make you dinner at his place and study before watching a few movies.

you had never been over the Wayne manor before and frankly, you were kind of scared to run into his father. THE Bruce Wayne would most likely be in attendance and meeting the most powerful man in Gotham would probably scare anyone.

Damian unlocked the gate, quickly taking your backpack as you snuggled into his jacket. you were immediately welcomed by his butler, Alfred who offered to put both of you bags in the hallway so no one would step over them. you thanked him profusely, making Damian mutter to you that that’s why he was here. to serve you.

“so, what would you like to eat, beloved? I can make you anything you desire,” he boasted. you looked at the cookbook that was laid next to you and flipped through the first few pages, “this sounds nice,” you pointed to the plant based steak with veggies.

Damian quickly got to work, making the veggies first as he offered for you taste them every now and again. you would usually relay a kiss on his cheek as he finally got to cooking the steak. you couldn’t help but wonder how he got to be such a great cook, however; as he was finishing plating the food, you saw his father as well as you assumed were his brothers.

“uh Damian?” you mentioned, pointing to the three men who walked in. Damian sighed knowing that of course his brothers were going to come and annoy him, “who’s your friend?” Dick asked, putting his chin on his hand.

“this is ( your name ), my beloved,” he told them proudly. you were a bit taken back by the nickname he so easily used on you, “ahh, we’ve heard so much about you,” Tim continued, “she’s so pretty....she’s not like other girls,” Dick mocked.

your face felt a burning sensation as Bruce told his sons to be quiet, “nice to meet you ( your name ),” Bruce introduced, “welcome to the family,” you barely caught what he said as Damian excused the two of you to go up to his bedroom.

“your family is...nice,” you tried to say without sounding nervous. Damian rolled his eyes, “they’re bunch of idiots. that’s what they are,” he muttered, not bothering to look back at them.

once you got to his room, your mouth dropped a bit. you had never seen such a luxurious bedroom before. satin sheets, the coldest pillows, his bedroom could probably house a family if he really wanted too and the fact that this was his bedroom, you were taken back.

“wow, so this is how the rich and famous live?” you joked, sitting down on his bed. he shook his head, “all this means nothing to me...as long as you’re with me, I’d be the happiest person alive,” you stared at Damian, wondering if what he said was really true.

the two of you ate, mostly in silence as you tried to take what Damian had said. there had been rumors floating around Gotham Academy that Damian might’ve liked you. you tried to dispel the rumors, claiming that someone like you was no where near Damian’s type but now that you were hearing the words he was telling you, you were more keen on acting on his feelings.

after finishing dinner, he offered for you to join him on his bed to watch a movie. you had never actually gotten to hang out with Damian outside of school. since you were always so busy doing schoolwork and Damian always had things to take care of, as he put it, you two never relaxed together.

the aura in the room was cozy as he offered you a very expensive looking blanket to cover you up from the chilly air coming from his window. the movie the two of you picked was some random rom-com, it felt kind of stupid to be watching this kind of movie with Damian but at some point, you stopped paying attention to the movie and looked up to him.

“did you really mean what you said earlier?” you whispered to him. he gave you a confused look, “of course I did. would I ever lie to you?” he said back, kind of offended that you would even accuse him of lying.

you sat back up on the bed and turned to fix yourself as you finally gave him a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened, not expecting you to do that to him. regardless, he immediately pulled you on top of him and deepened the kiss by pushing you up against him.

Damian slid his hands in the back pocket of your skirt, finding it a bit confusing why the uniforms even had pockets on the skirts. he gripped your ass a bit, making you moan in surprise as Damian tried his hardest to contain himself but failing as he slipped his tongue into yours.

the two of you remained kissing for what felt like hours. you knew your lips were bound get bruised from the amount of tugging Damian was doing but by the time you pulled away, you could see the faintest of blushes appearing on Damian’s brown skin.

“wow, didn’t know you felt like that for me,” you muttered shyly. Damian chuckled, giving you a quick peck, “I have feelings you wouldn’t even begin to understand but one day....one day you will,” he replied.

you didn’t pay no mind to his reply as he had brought you down for another kiss. what you didn’t catch was the smirk playing on his face. he knew that once graduation came, there would already be a ring on that left ring finger and soon enough, you’d be baring his heirs.

the Wayne’s got what they wanted. it didn’t matter what they had to do to get it but what the Wayne’s wanted, they got.

#dc #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne imagine

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mickey-henry · 3 years

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong.

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever.

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker.

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you.

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere.

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you.

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—”

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless.

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback.

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival.

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve.

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam.

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing.

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles.

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter.

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds.

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes.

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin.

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks.

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up.

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement.

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles.

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand.

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back.

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you.

───────────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers.

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #bucky barnes fic #my fic: hey bucky #mel's writing

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