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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Angeles

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

WC: 2250

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mild smut, non explicit,

Summary: Various flashes of Reader and Joel's life together. Based on the song Angeles by Elliot Smith (though I prefer the one sung by Jensen Ackles.)

Someone's always coming around here

Trailing some new kill

Says "I've seen your picture on a

Hundred-dollar bill"

“Who is she?” Joel’s gruff voice echoes off the concrete walls of the power plant they walked through. His footsteps are seconds behind his younger brother’s.

“Hell if I know. Maria says she knew her. Before.” Tommy’s blonde hair hits the light as he leads Joel outside, towards the perimeter wall. Towards their new guest.

“She trusts her?” Joel has always been a stubborn son of a bitch, but that's nearly doubled now that Ellie is in the picture. His daughter-but-not is everything to him. Everything.

“Apparently. We’re just going down to-” Tommy is cut off by Joel grabbing his shoulder to stop him.

“What the hell is she thinking? This girl could've been anything while she was out there! Shit, she could be a hunter for Christ’s sake!” He makes sure to keep his voice firm but quiet. They're close enough to the outside now that she -and anyone else she might’ve brought with her- would hear them.

Tommy breathes a sigh before speaking. “Joel, you're my brother. I respect that. But this is my town. This is Maria's town. She and I decide who comes in and out. Not you.” Tommy looks at his brother with an “Understood?” look and gives a snort when Joel angrily nods his head in reluctant agreement.

They continue their walk up the wall to see a woman standing just outside their gates. She's younger than Maria. Maybe 30? Just as Joel and Tommy were making these internal calculations Maria strides up to them.

“She's clean. I checked her myself.” Maria squeezes Tommy’s shoulder- the only semblance of greeting she grants her husband.

“And..” She looks to Joel. Knowing what his question would be. “She’s good people. Guarantee it.” Maria gives Tommy a look of question- not for approval, but for agreement. Tommy nodded at her.

“Let her through!” Maria shouted to the men at the gates below. Within a few seconds the metal clanged as the doors swung open wide for the woman below.

What's a game of chance to you,

To him is one of real skill

So glad to meet you, Angeles

Maria is the first to greet her. Hugs and “how ya been’s” and “oh, you know, trying not to die”. The woman had an infectious smile. Damn near addicting. Tommy and Joel strode up to meet her. Tommy introduced himself but Joel couldn't hear him. He was too busy sizing her up. Her walk, her talk, the way she held herself, how many weapons she was carrying, how well put together said weapons were… He was a paranoid man. If this woman was going to be a danger to Ellie, he was going to find out now. Tommy may have been talking but Joel spoke nonetheless.

“You took a mighty big chance here, didn’t you?” Joel rocked back on his heels. His thumbs hooked into his belt. Casual, at a glance. Upon further inspection one would see the placement of his hands was intentional- as they were now within inches of his knife.

“Pardon?” The woman asked. She had a slight accent. Midwestern. She'd traveled far.

“If Maria hadn’t deemed you trustworthy, we would've shot you dead. That's a mighty big risk, ain't it?” Joel explained his question. He watched the gears turn in her head- sizing up the possible threat. Just as he did to her moments ago.

“It was a risk. But I've never been one to shy away from a gamble.” The woman stuck her hand out to him. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Joel looked her up and down before taking her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Vegas.”

Picking up the ticket shows there's

Money to be made

Go on, lose the gamble that's the

History of the trade

“Damn you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Joel’s voice sounded and bounced off the walls of the small room they sat in. Y/N sat a foot away from him, playing cards scattered between them.

“They don't call me Vegas for nothing.” She gave him a smirk and a wink as she picked the cards up to shuffle them again.

“I call you Vegas. And you won ‘cause you're cheatin.” Joel sat back on his hand, one knee propped up with his arm draped over it.

“Oh, I'm a cheater? You're just saying that because you don't like that a girl 20 years younger than you whipped your ass in some poker.” Y/N shuffled the cards in her hands, the cards sliding over each other with grace.

“Shit, that makes me feel old. But yeah, you're a cheater. Got a card hidden up one of those sleeves or something.” Joel’s eyes danced with amusement as he watched her. Her hands were deft as they moved. It broke his heart to see the scars flecked across their surface. Such beautiful hands, such a horrible world.

“Up my sleeve, hm? Why don't you come check?” Y/N’s eyes met his. She was daring him to do something. Anything. The tension between them had been bubbling since that first day she showed in Jackson all those months ago. Now, since they were trapped in a lookout due to a rainstorm, they had all the time in the world to talk about… things.

“You'd like that wouldn't you?” Joel looked at her, unsure of what exactly he should do. He knew there was something between them, but didn't know how to act on it.

“Not as much as you would.”

Joel reaches for her hand, shaking her sleeve gently. Seeing if any cards fell out. She slid her other hand to him, shaking it pointedly. He laughed softly and his hands reached to the bottom hem of her shirt.

“Anything under there?” He let his fingers ghost across the skin there.

“Christ, Texas, you're killing me.” She whispered his nickname. His heart ached a bit at the thought of Tess but he knew she'd want him to be happy.

“Then take a risk, Vegas.” Joel’s lips were a hair’s breadth from this.

She pushed her lips to his, sighing. Months of dancing around each other. Playing these games. Finally, finally, they found each other. Their lips slid together like the cards she was shuffling, long forgotten on the floor. He groaned softly into her mouth, his tongue dancing across her lips. She answered his silent question, lips parting for him.

Joel gripped her waist and moved her into his lap. Y/N’s hands came up to his face, her palms to his cheeks. She scratched at his beard lightly and smiled into the kiss. Joel pulled away a bit to get a look at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, both from the rising body heat and excitement of the moment. Her lips were slightly swollen- his doing. That thought alone made him twitch in his pants. Y/N giggled a bit at his stare.

“Whatcha looking at, Texas?” Her hands travelled his chest, feeling the expanse of muscle beneath her and they came to land on his shoulders. Joel took advantage of the change and began kissing her neck. Alternating between feather light touches and sloppy mouthed tongue kisses. He kissed his way up her neck and kissed the shell of her ear.

“Just admiring the Vegas view, darling.”

Did you add up all the cards left to play

To zero

And sign up with evil, Angeles?

“God, what are you doing?” Joel shouted across the park to Y/N. She had ducked behind a small wooden platform just after she had chucked a snowball at him. Another small ball hit him in the head and he turned to see Ellie running behind the slide.

“Having fun! Haven't you heard of it?” Y/N’s voice called out from her hiding place. She threw another snowball but he ducked that one.

“No, I haven't, because we’re needed on patrol! C’mon now.” Joel tried to contain his laughter but Ellie ran up behind him and dumped snow on his head, making him chuckle.

“Gotcha, old man.” Ellie smirked proudly and dashed off to join Dina and Jesse at the pavilion. Y/N came out of her makeshift shelter and walked towards him, giggling madly.

“Oh, she got you good.” Y/N brushed off his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair. He gave her a curious look.

“What? You got snow in your hair.” Y/N met his eyes, a mischievous glare in her own.

“Yeah? Well, you got some snow on your face.” She seemed surprised as she couldn't feel any cold flakes.

“Right there.” Joel said, just before he kissed her. Y/N melted into the kiss, both because of the corny words and the luscious body heat he provided. He deepened this kiss and just as her knees began to shake he dumped a snowball over her head.

“Damn you, Miller!” Y/N gave chase after the old man laughing his ass off.

Don't start me trying now

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

'Cause I'm all over it, Angeles

“Joel, enough! You can't keep controlling her like this!” Y/N’s voice was stern but not loud- it was damn near one in the morning and she didn't want to risk a noise complaint from her neighbors.

“You have no place telling me what I can and can't do, Y/N. You ain’t been there.” Joel was unnervingly still, as he usually was when Ellie was brought up.

“That's bullshit, Joel, and you know it. I've been there for that girl for the last five years. I have every damn right-”

“No, you don't! You weren't there! You have no idea what I've done for that girl!” Joel was shouting now- neighbors be damned.

“You think I don't know? You think that wasn't one of the first things Tommy told me when we got together? That you killed those doctors? I'm fucking aware!”

Joel seemed shocked. Betrayed.

“Joel- that was too far. I'm sorry. But you have to listen to Ellie. I know it hurts but if she doesn't want you to be her dad-”

“If I ain't her dad, then you sure as hell ain't her mama.” Joel’s eyes were furious. He stared straight at Y/N. Regret shone in his eyes but he didn't speak of it. Y/N chuckled darkly, staring at the floor.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

Then she was gone.

I can make you satisfied in

Everything you do

All your secret wishes could right

Now be coming true

And be forever with my poison arms

Around you

A knock came at Ellie’s door. Ellie’s footsteps were quiet as she unlocked it and peeked her head out. Joel stood there, flowers in hand.

“She doesn't want to talk to you.” Ellie kept the door tight to her, not allowing Joel any glimpses inside.

“Ellie- it's ok.” A quiet voice sounds from behind the girl and Y/N is opening the door further.

She's a mess. Her hair is knotty and tangled. Her eyes were red. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week.

“What do you want, Joel?” She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, crossing her arms against the cool night breeze. Joel had to fight the urge to give her his jacket- knowing she wouldn't take it.

“I uh-” Joel cleared his throat. The speech he had prepared came back to him in pieces. “I want to apologize. What I said was way out of line. I'm sorry.” Y/N nodded vaguely, some form of acceptance.

“And I wanted to tell you that- shit. I'm not good at this.” Joel ran a hand down his face. “I wanted to say that I'm happiest when I'm with you. That you make me happier than anyone else on this damn planet. And I-” He took a shuddering breath. “I think I make you happy too.” Joel paused, trying to keep from fainting. The girl in front of him and the girl in the house behind her were the best things to ever happened to him- and he was fucking both of them up.

“I know that I'm not- shit, I'm not the best person. I'm not kind, or caring, or any of that. Maybe I'm the worst thing for you. But my mama always did say I was a selfish bastard. I can't be happy without you, Y/N. Please. Come home.” Joel finished his monologue and looked at Y/N and it was like he saw her for the first time again. She was smiling softly- but sadly.

“Joel Miller. You are the best person I've ever known. And maybe you are bad for me. Maybe you're poison. But I've never been one to shy away from a gamble.” Y/N grabbed Joel’s hand and looked him in the eye.

“Kiss me, Texas.” Joel almost broke down crying. All the shit he’d pulled, all the hurtful words he’d said, and for some reason, she still loved him. He really was the luckiest son of a bitch on God’s green earth.

“With pleasure, Vegas.” As their lips crashed again, there were no fireworks. No sparks flying. No. Their kiss felt to both of them like hot cocoa on a winter's day. Like a guitar by a campfire. Like pancakes in the morning. Like home.

No one's gonna fool around with us

So glad to meet'cha, Angeles

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

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Good Ones Die First

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

WC: 734

Warnings: Suicide, death, angst, blood, violence, MCD

Summary: Joel hasn't seen the reader in a few hours.

Joel walked through the streets of Jackson, tired and a little tipsy. He’d spent the night at the Bison. Watching Ellie dance with Dina and Cat and Jesse. It was cute. Reminded him of something he couldn't place.

Joel rounded a corner and saw Y/N’s lights on. That was odd. It was damn near one in the morning and she had said she was going to bed early. He'd asked if she wanted to go to the Bison with him, grab a drink, and she’d said she’d think about it. He had seen Y/N’s lights off when he’d left- had assumed she was asleep. He decided to check on her. Better safe than sorry in this world.

His footfalls grew heavier the closer he got to Y/N’s door. Joel knew in his gut something was wrong. He knocked on her door.

Once.

Twice.

No answer. He tried the handle to find the door unlocked. That was really odd. She was about as paranoid as him- no way her door would be unlocked. Unless someone else had left it that way.

Fear raced through him as he called out her name, checking every room.

“Y/N? Hon, are you here? Y/N!” His shouting grew more frantic as he approached her bedroom. He looked around the corner and saw that it was empty. That left one more room. Joel’s gaze fell to his left and he noticed her bathroom at the end of the hall had been left open. There was something dark on the floor- a stark contrast to the white tile.

“Y/N?” He whispered- his voice shaking. Joel nudged the door open with his hand, peering into the small room. His eyes landed on Y/N. Sitting propped against her bathtub. Words were written on the floor in dark brown- brown paint. That's what it was. Paint.

I’m sorry. I loved her. And you. Tell Ellie I'm glad I got be her- a few words were scribbled out -whatever I was for as long as I did. Bury me deep.

Joel collapsed to his knees and cradled Y/N's face in his hands. She was cold. Her beautiful lips had grown pale. Her eyes bloodshot. Her wrists- slit open. A small box cutter in her right hand.

“No. No, don't you do this. You don't get to leave me. You promised. You promised.” After shaking her a few times he knew. She was gone.

Ellie was nervous. She had been drinking all night but something had happened. Tommy had come over to Maria and the two of them raced out of the Bison. Dina looked at her concerned.

“What is it? Breach?” Dina shrugged and raced to follow them. Ellie and Dina trailed Tommy and Maria for a few streets, staying far behind. Whatever it was, Maria had made a point of not involving Ellie.

When they turned onto Y/N's street Ellie’s heart dropped into her stomach.

No.

Ellie sprinted, not caring if Tommy and Maria tried to stop her.

Nononononononono

“Ellie! Stop! You don't wanna-” Tommy held an arm out to stop her but she shoved him away.

Not her. Not her.

Ellie was running up her sidewalk when Joel came out of her house. His eyes on the ground. His knees covered in blood. A choked sob escaped her.

“Where's Y/N?”

Joel just looked at her. That was the first time she'd seen him cry.

“Where's my mom?” Ellie screamed at him. She ran at him, but Joel refused to let her through.

Joel’s arms wrapped around her. To comfort or contain she didn't know.

Ellie dropped to the ground sobbing.

Joel held her as she screamed. As she thrashed against him.

“Why didn't you save her? Please, go save her. Please.”

Joel clung to her. His own tears wetted her shoulder.

When Ellie stopped crying Joel let her go. She pulled away to look at him.

“How?” Ellie asked.

Joel let a box cutter fall from his hand. The blade was retreated, but she knew then what happened.

“She said she loved you.” Joel said simply.

Ellie stood and backed away. Backed away from Joel, from her mother’s house and blood and body.

“It should've been you.” Ellie ran into the night. She snuck out of the East gate and stayed out until dawn.

Two weeks later Ellie found him.

Beaten.

Bloody.

Alone.

Dead.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #pedro pascal

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

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Holding You Together

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

WC: 2614

Warnings: Attempted rape, drinking, alcohol use, violence, misogyny, rage attacks, 'princess' being a trigger, let me know if i missed anything

Summary: Reader is being walked home by a not so nice guy. Joel steps in.

“Number...four, was it?” A voice spoke from behind her. Y/N turned to see Charlie, one of her favorite stablehands. He had always been nice enough to prepare her horse, Cisco, for her.

“Nope. Five. Five whiskeys. I feel good.” Y/N’s words were slurred slightly but she was still up-right. Still conscious.

“Five? Wow. You can really hold your liquor.” Charlie stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her arm. Y/N looked down at his arm, not so subtly showing her displeasure.

“S’pose I can. I need’ta get home though.” Y/N’s eyes were drooping slightly as she felt the night’s energy wash over her. She needed sleep. Y/N pulled away from Charlie- or tried to. Charlie hadn’t released his grip on her arm.

“What’re you doin’?” Y/N looked back at Charlie, confused. His eyes were dark and nervous, he was glancing around, seeing if anyone was watching.

“Let me walk you home, Dan.” Charlie increased the pressure on her arm and started moving her towards the door.

“You don’t- You don’t need to. I’ll get Joel to walk me home.’ Y/N’s mind was foggy. The alcohol had caught up with her quickly.

“Joel isn’t here. I’ll take you home. I’ll take good care of you.” Charlie had taken Y/N outside and was leading her in the opposite direction of her house.

“Charlie- my house is the other-”

“Didn’t say I was taking you to your home, princess.” Charlie didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes ahead. Y/N finally realized what was happening and started struggling against his grip. On a normal day, she would have evaded him easily. But she was drunk and he was completely sober.

“Charlie, no. I don’t want to. Let me go.” Y/N wiggled in his grasp, trying to break his iron grip.

“No- damn you. You’re coming home with me.” Charlie started walking faster and Y/N began to panic. She yanked on her arm to no avail. He was too strong and she was too drunk.

“Charlie- let me go. Please.” When he gave no response, Y/N began screaming.

“Help! Please!” Y/N was suddenly pulled into an alley, Charlie’s hand covering her mouth. He had a look of fury in his eyes. Y/N bit down on a finger and tried to hurl a knee upwards at him, but he blocked it. Charlie punched her on the cheek, knocking her down. He stepped back, cradling his bloody finger.

“You little bitch!” Charlie was unbuckling his belt and preparing to descend on Y/N in her semi-conscious state.

“What’s going on- Y/N?” Joel came around the corner of the alley and saw the scene before him. Y/N was cradling her bloodied cheek, laying on the gravel ground. Charlie had his belt undone and a bleeding hand.

Joel said nothing, only approached Charlie like a man with a mission. Charlie backed away from him frantically.

“Hey, man. She- she asked me too. Don’t- don’t!” Charlie couldn’t get his next excuse out before Joel was on him. Joel gripped him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him to the brick wall. Punch after punch landed on Charlie’s face. Charlie was helpless to defend himself. He tried to scratch at Joel, successfully landing a few red scratches on his face, but Joel was too strong and too pissed to be dissuaded. Once Joel saw a few teeth go flying, he knocked Charlie to the ground. Charlie was still conscious and trying to crawl away on his stomach. Joel leaned over him, kneeling over his back. He brought one hand to Charlie’s wrist and set the other on his elbow.

“Please, man. Don’t. I’ll never- Fuck!” Charlie screamed and sobbed as Joel snapped his arm. Joel leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You have until dawn to get the hell out of Jackson. If I ever see you again, I’ll break more than just your goddamn arm. Understood?” Charlie frantically nodded and Joel pulled him up by his hair.

“What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck, man. You’ll never see me again. I swear. Please, just let me go.” Joel seemed to accept this and stood up, giving Charlie a kick in the gut for good measure.

Joel walked to Y/N, now unconscious on the ground. He knelt beside her and went to touch her face when he saw his hands. He had two broken fingers, at least. They were already blooming in color- red, purple, yellow. Covered in blood, mostly Charlie’s. Deciding against waking her up at the moment, he put an arm under her knees and an arm behind her shoulder blades.

“C’mon, girlie.” Joel grunted as he stood up, her unconscious weight being harder to carry than he expected. He started walking towards Ellie’s house as she was closest.

When he was a block away, Y/N shifted in his arms. Seeing where she was, she spoke softly to voice her complaint.

“No. Don’t want her- don’t want her to see me like… like this.” Y/N quickly fell back asleep. She wasn’t injured too bad, just drunk out of her mind. Joel huffed and began the short trek to his house, pausing to readjust the woman in his arms every so often. When his house was in sight he looked down at her, seeing her jaw-length mahogany hair tangled and splayed across her face. Her cheekbone had a small bloody cut and Joel decided he hated her. Hated her for making him feel this way. For scaring him. For…

Joel arrived at his house. He adjusted Y/N in his arms so he could open the wooden door, grunting slightly at the effort. Once inside, Joel walked to his small couch and set Y/N’s unconscious body down. At the sudden loss of contact, Y/N groaned and blinked her eyes open. She looked around his familiar living room, then turned her eyes to Joel.

“Is he- did you-” Joel sees the silent question in her eyes. There was no judgement there, only a vague curiosity. He leaned towards her and brushed a thumb over her cheek.

“Let him off easy.” Joel’s voice was low. Y/N knew he was seething with anger. Not at her, not even at Charlie, but at himself. For not being there for Y/N. That’s just how his mind worked. Y/N huffed a laugh.

“Easy? How many-” Y/N paused and took his hands in hers. “You’re hurt.” Y/N turned his hands over and looked at his knuckles. A few were broken, all were split open.

“‘M fine. Don’t worry about me, darling.” Joel wiped some of the blood off her face.

“You’re going to let me clean those.” Y/N let out a yawn, a few sleepy tears escaping her eyes. “Tomorrow. Gonna… I’m gonna clean those tomorrow.” Y/N reclined onto the tweed couch and let her eyes drift closed.

Joel smiled and gazed at her, allowing himself the simple pleasure of seeing her sleeping form. Soon enough, small snores began slipping from her half-parted lips. Joel took that at his cue to leave and walked to his bathroom to clean and set his hands. This was an old habit to him. No different than laundry. After his hands were sufficiently taped, he slinked to his armchair. He reached up and clicked off the small lamp next to him before getting comfortable. He let his head fall onto the cushion behind him and closed his eyes. With one last glance towards Y/N, Joel drifted into sleep.

The Next Morning

“Sweet Caroline, BUH! BUH! BUH!” Joel was startled out of his slumber by Y/N’s obnoxiously loud singing.

“God DAMMIT WOMAN!” Joel shouted, half-laughing as he ran into the kitchen. Y/N was dancing around the kitchen in his old henley and a pair of boxers.

“Morning, honeycakes!” Y/N spun to face him and showed him her mixing bowl, full of pancake batter.

“Honeycakes? What’re you-” Joel was cut off when Y/N tossed him an apron. Y/N followed the apron with her eyes and when Joel caught it she saw the taping on his hands. She looked up at him, a silent question in her eyes. He nodded, letting her know he was okay. She seemed satisfied with their unspoken conversation.

“Then get cookin’, good lookin’!” Y/N nodded her head towards some venison imitation bacon in a frying pan. Joel chuckled and slung the apron over his neck, deciding he’d question her once there was food in their bellies.

“Yes, ma’am.” Y/N let out a satisfied hum at his cooperation before turning back to the pancakes on the stove. Joel stood next to her flipping the bacon. Y/N knocked her hip into his, never taking her eyes off the browning pancakes.

“Quit it.” Joel joked. Y/N hit him with her hip again, harder this time. Joel stumbled slightly.

“Damn, girl! Why’re your hips so strong?” Joel laughed, rubbing the sore spot on his hip bone.

“Hmph. ‘M just big and tall, Joel.” Y/N flipped the pancakes as she spoke, seeing the perfect golden brown of it.

“You ain’t big, you’re strong.” He paused briefly. “Can’t argue with tall though.” Joel glanced at her and saw her face fall slightly as she flipped him off. “What’s wrong, hon?” The saddened expression was gone as quick as it came.

“Nothin’ sugar.” She looked down at his neglected bacon. “Burn that bacon and I’ll eat you instead.” Joel was suspicious of her but decided to let it go. He turned back to the bacon and flipped a few pieces, finding them crispy.

“‘S done.” Joel used his tongs to pull the bacon out of the pan, setting the pieces on a plate. Y/N flipped four pancakes onto two plates before handing one to Joel. She grabbed a few pieces of bacon and a fork before walking to Joel’s table. She sat down and dug into the bacon, moaning at the taste.

“You know, for imitation bacon, this is damn good.” Y/N licked her fingers. Joel gave a breathy laugh as he sat down across from her.

“”M just that good of a cook, princess.” Joel knew she loved his pet names and glanced up at her, expecting her usual blushy reaction. Instead, he found her staring at her plate, frozen in place.

“Princess?” Y/N glanced up at him and he saw the evident fear in her eyes. “Y/N? Hey, talk to me.” Joel reached for her and Y/N blinked, jerking her arm away from his grasp.

“Don’t- not that. That’s what he- that’s what he called me.” Y/N looked up at him, tears in her eyes. Joel winced and hung his head.

“Shit, darling. I’m so sorry. But hey- you know he’s gone, right? He’s out of Jackson. He ain’t ever gonna hurt you again.” Joel kept his voice quiet, trying not to frighten her. Y/N nodded, once, twice. She looked like an etch-a-sketch, shaking away the bad memories. She kept telling herself that’s all they were, all he was now - memories.

“I know.” Y/N turned back to her plate and began picking at the pancakes. She didn’t bring any of the fluffy food to her mouth, settling for pushing it around with her fork.

“You ok, hon?” Joel set his hand on the table, palm up. If she needed him he would be there, but he wasn’t going to force her to do anything. He knew she needed to make her own decisions during this time.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes lined with silver. “Not really.” She took in a shuddering breath. “He was going to- Oh god.” It was like she only just realized what had happened to her last night. Her shoulders were moving faster as her anxiety spiked. Her breaths grew ragged and the tears started flowing down her face. Joel had only seen her like this once before but he knew what was happening. She was having a panic attack. Joel instantly grew worried. Last time this had happened she asked him to hold her, to restrain her as she fought to punch and kick anything in her path. Reflexes from outside, she’d said. Joel didn’t know if he should hold her this time, given the circumstances. But, when Y/N reached out to him, arms flailing, he saw the signs of an incoming rage fit.

Joel bolted up from his chair and around the table. He wrapped his arms around hers, caging her into his slightly larger frame. She knew he was one of few people in Jackson that could physically contain her- part of the reason Y/N had been drawn to him. She never trusted herself completely and having someone around that could do what was needed in a dire situation comforted her.

Joel sunk to the ground, keeping her in his arms and preparing for what was coming.

Y/N screamed in his hold. Screamed - and sobbed. Broken cries of anger and anguish tore through her throat and reverberated around the room. She thrashed against him and screamed how she hated him, that she was going to kill him. It broke his heart but he knew she would get hurt if he let go. Y/N was never violent to anyone else during these attacks, only herself. She’d come to his door more than once with a self-inflicted broken nose or hand. So, he held her. Through the screaming and scratching and biting, he held her.

Joel didn’t know when he started crying, but he looked down and saw that the crown of her head was sparking with droplets of his tears. He saw her face briefly in between movements, and decided she was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on.

Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks puffy and tear-stained, her lips were bloody from the way her teeth bit into them, but still- beautiful. More so now than ever before. Y/N was a woman broken. Completely and totally. She had been fractured by life - who the hell hadn’t in this world? But Y/N punished herself everyday for it. What may have originally only been a broken bone, she pulverized until she was nothing more than dust. Ashes in the wind, carried off on a Northern breeze to greener grasses and bluer skies.

Soon Y/N’s body stilled. Her arms fell limp in his and her legs stopped kicking. Joel held her still, waiting for her to speak. She didn’t consider herself safe to be free until she could speak coherently, so Joel held her. Held her until her breath evened out and her eyelids drooped. Until snores fell from her reddened lips and her heartbeat felt steady against his chest. Joel would hold her whenever she needed him too. But, at the moment, he held her for his own reasons. He knew she would never love him- not like he loved her- but in the moment it was too easy to pretend that she was his and he was hers. That she had merely fallen asleep after a wonderful night together. That she would return to his arms the next night, and the night after. That he could hold her until they were both old and gray and dying. Joel knew his reasons were entirely selfish, but he figured that right now, just this once, he could allow himself to indulge in the way her hair smelled and the way her heart beat in time with his own.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

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Hey guys! Just checking in. Still haven't written anything new. This dissertation is kicking my ass. Have a few works left in the queue, and just added chapter two of sketching us! it's not long and it's not betad and its pure shit, but y'all liked the first chapter so I put it in there. I hope to get back to writing in the next few weeks, but that's a definite maybe. Lots of love dearies.

- Lee xxoo

#spencer reid x you #joel miller x you #leebeewrites

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

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bestie….am interested in roommate!bucky …..gimme 🤲🤲🤲

*cracks knuckles* about fucking TIME. LET'S GOOOO. I will preface this by saying I will absolutely write this in its entirety someday. But for now is here a drabble!

Warnings: mentions of sex and masturbating.

BASICALLY, I have thoughts and they're all underneath the keep reading line.

you were down on your luck. your last roommate didn’t quite check and left you hemorrhaging for cash after they left you high and dry with rent. you really didn’t wanna use craigslist, but here you are--filtering through the creeps even though you didn’t mention that you were a girl because that’s crazy.

then you stumbled on him. clean record. flying colors. hell, he even presented you with references. it was better than the other candidates and his only request was that he got to keep his cat (who was adorable, and honestly you liked cats.

you’d gone back and forth over email and texts, and you even had a phone call with him a couple of times, and it wasn’t until moving day (look, you were desperate, you needed someone and you vetted him well) that you actually met him and--

holy fucking shit he’s hot. that was going to be an issue--an issue for you, really. you could handle it; you can live with someone as hot as him. there had to be something wrong with him to counteract the hotness of him.

maybe he wouldn’t clean the dishes immediately after using them; maybe he would forget to empty the lint traps after using the dryer. there had to be something that gave you the peeves. something had to make him less attractive then he actually is.

....

..........

...............

alright it’s been two fucking months and there’s nothing about him that you find unattractive. that’s a problem.

he does the dishes right away. he empties the lint trap. he’s offered to do you laundry and also cleans the house unprovoked and all you want to do is jump his goddamn bones and it’s becoming an actual problem.

because you know he fucking sees it, too. he’s seen you catch your bottom lip between your teeth when he crosses the hallway from the bathroom to his room in nothing but a towel. he knows your breath catches a little bit when he walks around in just his boxers because the AC is broken, yet again. he knows that you’re into him--and, hell, he likes teasing you.

sometimes, he’ll get close to you when you’re cooking for the both of you. he’ll lean in real close and steal with wooden ladle to taste the sauce you’re making for one of your comfort dishes. sometimes he’ll lick the spoon clean, looking directly at you, flattening his tongue against it. cause he really wants you to know what that mouth does.

you’ll just watch and all bucky can do is laugh and ask “sorry, did you still wanna use that?”

and, honestly, you can dish it out just as well as he can. you know you can. but bucky is so fucking hot, that your skin is sweltering and you don’t have enough thought in your filthy, murky head to actually give it to him.

so you think about it; all day and night you think about what you want to do him, what you would say to him. and you think about it, hard. so much that your hand has become a sorry replacement for what you really want. You shove towels in-between the gap under the door because you don’t want him to hear you moan his name, whining into your favorite pillow as you plunge your fingers deep.

........ it’s been four months and you actually can’t take it. one night the teasing is too much. bucky’s getting ready to hang out with his friends and everything about him just breaks you. bucky dressed in leather does things to you, and the cologne he spritzed himself with lingers in your lungs. and when he leaves the apartment you don’t even bother going to your room.

you lean back into the couch as you touch yourself to the lingering fantasy that’s in your head; you think of bucky’s head between your legs, and his hands gripping your thighs and you moan so loudly it nearly echoes in the living room. you’re almost there, you can feel it vibrating all over your limbs, when the door opens.

bucky’s forgotten his keys. you’re too stunned to actually leave the room; you’re too embarrassed to even remove your hand from your fucking panties, and now you watch as bucky’s gaze lingers on the hand that dips beneath the elastic hem. there’s a heat that burns beneath his eyes, and he just drops his jacket on the floor.

you don’t say anything but he knows--he knows that you’re touching yourself while thinking of him. honestly, did you really think the towels would work to muffle your sound? bucky knows that you want him, and now you’ve just given him the opportunity to act on it.

and bucky just drops his jacket. drops everything in his hands because “the boys can fuckin’ hang out with me tomorrow.”

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

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Sleepy Kisses

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

WC: 1630ish

Warnings: Smut, PWP, Morning sex, praise, degradation, creampie, oral f recieving, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk

Summary: Joel wakes the reader up for some early mornin' fun.

“Y/N… wake up, honey… I miss you.” A low, smooth voice gently eased her awake. Chaste kisses were being pressed to her shoulder blades, and then down her spine, then they made their way back up, scruffy kisses placed in the angle of her neck.

“Sugar… wake up. C’mon.” Joel gently began marking her neck, sucking little bruises here and there.

“I don't wanna. Too comfy.” Y/N’s voice was muffled by the white pillow beneath her face.

“We’ll just have to fix that, won't we, darling?” Joel said before nipping at her earlobe and sitting up. She realized what he was about to do.

“Wait, no!” But it was too late. Joel had already ripped the covers back, exposing her nakedness to the crisp air.

Y/N let out a dramatic wail before burying her face into the covers. She said something that Joel couldn't quite make out.

“What was that, honey?” Joel asked, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Said fuck you.” Y/N’s voice was a little clearer and Joel huffed a laugh before starting to kiss her body again- beginning at her calves and working his way up. Slow, wet kisses placed on the back of her knees, behind her thighs, the curve of her ass, the dip of her spine. He ended his parade on the shell of her ear. Y/N let out quiet whimpers every time his tongue darted out to caress her skin.

“Try again?” Joel dropped his voice to that sweet low point he knew she loved.

“Don't stop.” Y/N pulled her face out of her pillow to look over her shoulder at her fiancé. Her eyelids were half closed but her pupils were lust blown. Y/N’s lips sat in a perfect pout as she gazed into his eyes, begging for more.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart.” Joel sat back on his heels and settled a hand under her hip before flipping her onto her back. Joel let out a satisfied hum upon seeing her nipples were already peaked. He dipped his head down, capturing one in his mouth and working the other with his fingers. Y/N arched her back into his mouth, groaning at the stark difference in sensation between his hot wet mouth and the cold dry air. Joel chuckled and released the pink nub with a small graze of his teeth, eliciting a moan from Y/N.

Joel continued his way down. He left none of her skin unexplored, kisses pressed all down her navel and across the inside of her thighs. Y/N’s whimpers grow louder with every heartbeat- every breath that fans across her core.

“Joel- please. Stop teasing.” Y/N half-whispered, half-moaned. Joel allowed himself to look at her then. Her jaw length mahogany hair was spread in a halo around her and her collarbone was littered with small pink splotches. The idea of those marks being his doing made him twitch in his pajama pants. He had planned on teasing her, edging her all morning. But the sight of his girl - his girl - spread out and moaning beneath him… he couldn't resist. After repositioning so his arms were under her thighs and his hands were on her hips, Joel dove into her wet center.

“Fuck- baby.” Y/N moaned as her hands flew to Joel’s thick brown curls. Joel wasted no time in getting to work. His tongue was everywhere- alternating between kitten licks on her clit and thrusting into her tight hole. Satisfied with her state of wetness, Joel brought one finger to tease her slit.

“Christ- Joel. Please. Please, baby.” Joel ignored her. He thrusted the first knuckle inside her and pulled his mouth away from her clit.

“Please what, sugar? Tell me what you want.” Joel pushed his finger inside her up to the second knuckle and groaned when he felt her tight walls fluttering around the digit.

“Please, fuck me. God, I need more.” Y/N’s hips writhed against Joel’s firm grip.

“With my cock or my fingers, baby?” Joel pressed a feather light kiss to her clit. Y/N salivated at the thought of his cock inside her, but as good as that idea was, his fingers sounded better.

“Your fingers, Joel, and your mouth. Please, make me cum on your face.”

“Fuck, alright.” Joel set to work on fingering her. He immediately pushed in a second finger, testing where he should curl it. Y/N moaned loud suddenly and Joel smirked.

“Found you.” After successfully finding the plushy spot inside her that would make her come undone, Joel brought his lips to her clitoris. His tongue switching between pointed licks and broad strokes. Joel added another finger inside her, thrusting faster and faster. Y/N’s walls began to clench around his fingers, trying to draw him in further.

“Shit, Joel. God, I'm close. I'm so fucking close.” Y/N brought her hands up to her chest, tweaking her nipples as her hips moved against his face.

“I know, baby. Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum all over my hand.” Joel took her clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, and that threw her over the edge.

“Joel- fucking- shit. Christ, right there. Right fucking there.” Y/N’s expletives tumbled from her lips as she prolonged her high by clenching his fingers inside her. Joel slowed his actions, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that made her shiver.

“C’mere. Need you.” Y/N’s voice was small and tight, strained from the noise she had been making. Joel obeyed her, placing his forearms on either side of her face and leaning to crash their lips together. She slid her tongue against his, trying to taste herself on him. Joel moaned into her mouth and pulled away.

“Baby- shit. Can I-” Joel stuttered out his half-question, still asking for permission after all this time with her.

“Yes. Please. I need you inside me, Joel.” Y/N reclined again, spreading her legs to make room for her fiancé. Joel stood up and tore his pants off before settling between her thighs, gripping his achingly hard cock in his hand and dragging it through her folds.

“Fuck, darling. So wet for me. This all for me?” Joel kept dragging the head of his thick cock through her juices, occasionally letting the tip slip inside.

“Yes, Joel. All for you. Only for you.” Y/N’s hips arched into his own and he silently decided he couldn't tease anymore. Joel slowly pushed inside her, giving her time to adjust to his size. They'd had sex countless times before, but she always needed a few seconds to allow her body to relax into his touch.

The feeling was heavenly for both of them. Y/N felt every inch of him as he pushed in. Joel felt her tight cunt gripping him even after she had orgasmed. They both let out a sigh when he bottomed out.

“Christ- baby. Can I- fuck. Can I move?” Joel was trying so hard to keep his hips still. He didn't want to cause her any pain but his mind could only hold so much control over his body before his hips involuntarily started making small movements into her wet heat.

“Yeah, Joel. Please- please.” Y/N’s hands came around his neck, holding his body flush with hers as her legs wrapped around his hips.

Joel started thrusting slowly. Pulling out a few inches before sinking back into the heaven that was her body.

“Feel so good, baby. So fucking tight.” Joel whispered filthy words and sweet nothings in her ear, the contrast making her head spin delightfully. Y/N squeezed her legs around him and Joel got the hint to move faster. He built up a steady rhythm, angling to hit that sweet spot inside her with every snap of his hips.

Y/N brought her lips to his neck, kissing and sucking and biting.

“Joel… you feel so amazing. Stretching me out so good, baby. Fuck.” Y/N bit his earlobe, something she knew drove him insane. Her plan worked and Joel sat back slightly, bringing his hands to her hips to pound into her.

“Fucking asked for it. Yeah? This what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you like the fucking slut you are?” Joel’s voice was harsh in the silence of their bedroom but his words were harsher.

Y/N fucking loved it. She nodded enthusiastically, eyes rolling back into her head at the pleasure his cock and his words brought her.

“Look so pretty, Y/N. So pretty, taking my cock like this. Tits bouncing. God, you're gonna be the death of me, baby.” Joel knew his dirty talk turned her on like nothing else and he was certain he said the right thing as her hand flew to her clit, rubbing furiously.

“You close, baby? You gonna cum all over my cock? Be a good little cumslut and cum on my cock.” Joel dropped his voice an octave and that sent Y/N over the edge for the second time that night. Her voice and mind were too strained to say anything coherent so she let out a strangled moan, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure washed over her in waves.

“Good girl. I'm gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck- you're gonna be dripping me all fucking day. Want you to know- shit- who owns this cunt.” Joel’s thrusts stuttered as he shot rope after rope of thick white cum into her depths. Joel let his head drop to her shoulder as his thrusts slowed. Y/N rubbed a hand soothingly up his bare back, tracing invisible patterns.

Joel pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from Y/N at the sensation. He plopped down beside her and wiped the sweat from his brow and Y/N let out a small chuckle.

“What's so funny?” Joel asked, turning his head to look at her.

“Nothing.” She said, a smile on her face. “Just, uh- Good fucking morning to me.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Just For Tonight

Pairing: 40's Bucky Barnes x Reader

AU: Singer!Bucky Barnes x Bar Owner!Reader

Word Count: 6,157

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, minor dumbification, dirty talk, Bucky has a filthy mouth, petnames, princess, doll, peaches, honey, sweets, sweetness, all the petnames because I'm a self indulgent motherfucker, drinking, alcohol use, cursing, implied minor sexual assault, implied violence, major character death, Steve Rogers makes an appearance

Summary: Bucky's been singing at Y/N's bar for two years now. When he gets his papers, will they confess the feelings that have been bubbling up between them all this time?

Smooth vocals filled the air as he sang. Low harmonies, high vibratos. Y/N wasn’t the most learned of women, at least musically, but she could spot a good voice when she heard it. And, boy, had she heard it.

Bucky Barnes had been her iceman for a year before she heard him sing. His lovely tunes came soaring in from her freezer room as she swept up the floor of her nightclub. Well, it was really more of a speakeasy, but don’t let the coppers in on that tidbit. She’d nearly dropped her mop when she heard the mind-numbing lullaby he was crooning. She’d hired him as a singer that very day.

It took him hardly five minutes to adjust to the spotlight, getting up there and singing his heart out. All the ladies swooned, of course. Emptying their pockets for the handsome bachelor. Soon enough, he was her main event. “James Barnes, Every Friday Night” in bright yellow paint on the brick of Y/N’s Clubhouse. People came for Bucky, but they stayed for the drinks. Half price shots for every patron that left a tip in Bucky’s box.

Tonight, though, he was singing especially beautifully. For what reason, Y/N wasn’t sure. All she knew was the ladies were about to faint, and the men bought drinks for the women about to faint. Business for Bucky meant business for Y/N, so who was she to complain?

Having James around was also a nice comfort for Y/N. Some of the men could get a bit handsy with her, seeing as she was a single woman running a nightclub. They assumed she was for sale along with her drinks. Bucky would remind them that she most certainly was not. A fist here, a well-placed kick there, and boom. No more hassle.

It also didn’t hurt that he was a hell of a charmer. He’d flash a smile and all the girls would go wild. A few guys too. He flirted with everyone, sure. It was part of the allure. A charming young bachelor with a voice that’d make even the angels green with envy. Still, he always managed to make one feel like they were the only person he had eyes for. This was especially true for Y/N. Her heart soared everytime he looked her way. But, she kept it under control. Emotions complicate things. She wouldn’t let emotions get in the way of the best business deal she’d had in… ever.

But tonight, as Bucky stood on that stage, sweat shining on his forehead, his white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his black suspenders exposed… Y/N didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to hold out.

Towards the end of the night, as the partygoers filtered away and left them with just the regulars, Bucky slowed his songs down. Gone were the upbeat rock and roll radio hits, traded out for songs that Bucky had written himself. Usually, he’d go for covers of whatever was on the radio at the moment. At times like these, however, his voice would turn slow. Melancholy, one might say. His blue eyes would sparkle with unshed tears as he sang his heart out. Something had made him especially emotional tonight, his voice cracking on a high note due to the thickness in his throat.

“Just for tonight.

Let me believe that you love me.

Just for tonight.

Let me believe that I’ll be yours.

Just for tonight.

Let me stay here by your side.

Just for tonight.”

Bucky’s last song of the night faded out, a quiet round of applause coming from the regulars. Just For Tonight was a favorite among this crowd, and Bucky knew it’d be getting him some extra tips. Even if it did make his heart sink to sing it.

Y/N turned the chairs over around closing time, signaling the patrons that it was time to go. They left their last minute tips in Bucky’s box and closed out their tabs, waving goodbye to Y/N and telling Bucky what a great set he’d had. As was the norm, Bucky stuck around to help her clean up. She’d insisted time and time again that he needn’t do such things, but he insisted right back that he was a gentleman, and to leave a lady working alone would be a mark on his conscience.

So, after the chairs had been stacked and the tables wiped down, Y/N returned to her place behind the bar to pour Bucky his normal two fingers of whiskey. She had a bottle saved just for him, a top shelf brand that was affectionately nicknamed “Bucky’s Booze”. He took a seat at the bar with a sigh.

“Make it a double.” He said, voice low and raspy from overuse. Eyebrows creased in concern, she obliged. Four fingers of whiskey were poured and slid to Bucky across the polished wood of the bar.

“Wanna talk ‘bout it?” Y/N responded. She told herself this was nothing more than checking on her investment. Ensuring her business was going to remain steady. The way her heart fluttered when his blue eyes met her hazel ones said otherwise.

“I’m alright, peaches. Thanks, though.” He hummed, taking a sip of his whiskey and letting out a satisfied sigh at the burn.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at the name, as they always did. He’d started calling her peaches a long time ago after some long since forgotten joke. That’s all it was, really. A joke that ran too long. But the way her stomach flipped and her ears stained red proved it was much more than a joke to her. She took in a long breath and nodded, pouring herself a glass of cherry wine. The small of her back was pressed to the counter as she leaned against it, closing her eyes and sipping from her glass.

“You okay there, hon? Somethin’ botherin’ ya?” His low tone never failed to make her weak in the knees, the rasp of his voice only amplifying the feeling.

She hummed in response, shaking her head softly. “Nah. Jus’ feelin’ a little melancholy after that set tonight. What’s got you so sad, sugar? Any gals I need’ta be teachin’ a lesson?” Y/N’s lips curled into a half smile, attempting to cheer up the man before her. It failed, though. His eyes remained sad, trained on the brown liquid in his glass.

“‘M sorry. I wish- God, I wish I’d done this differently.” Bucky said. Y/N was confused, as he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her.

“What d’you mean, Buck? Done what differently?”

He didn’t give a verbal response, only pulled a folded piece of cream colored paper from his pocket. He didn’t have to tell her what it was. She knew. Her brothers had received papers just like it.

“When?” Y/N said, voice lethally sharp.

“Peaches, I-” Bucky started, apologetic. He never got the chance to finish his sentence, as Y/N cut him off.

“When?” She said again.

“Three days ago.” He admitted, casting his gaze downward in shame.

Y/N couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe. Her mind roared with anger, sadness, disgust, confusion, and betrayal. The strongest of the emotions whirling in her mind though, was fear. She was utterly terrified to her core. He was leaving.

‘“When do you leave?” Her voice was broken, but not nearly as much as her heart. She hated how meek she sounded, like a kitchen mouse.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped and his cheeks reddened in shame. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying.

“Tomorrow.”

Silence.

Silence was all Y/N could hear as she observed the man before her. She felt light-headed. Her knees were weak and her stomach flipped and it was all the things Bucky had made her feel but now it was wrong. It was tainted by this deep, gut-wrenching fear. It flooded every sense, all she knew was fear. All she knew was terror.

“I'm sorry.” Bucky said, and suddenly everything came rushing back. She remembered she could speak, so she did.

“Why’re you apologizing?” Y/N said, her tone too aggressive for her liking. She knew exactly why he was apologizing. For leaving her alone. They had yet to act on it, but Bucky and Y/N had been far more than business partners, far more than friends, for a long time. She showed it in the way his drinks were always on the house, and the way he was the only one she’d let call her peaches. He showed it in the way he always helped her clean up, and the way he slipped some of his tip money into her jar at the end of the night.

“You know why.” He responded simply. That was all he needed to say. She knew. He knew. They always knew, deep down.

Y/N nodded, unable to meet his eyes, knowing he’d see the tears there. She knew she’d been caught when a loud screeching noise met her ears. Bucky’s barstool pushed across the wooden floor and then he was in front of her. His large hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones.

“Oh, peaches. Don’t cry. Don’t shed any tears for me.” He murmured, trying to comfort her.

Her eyes met his. Hazel met blue, and everything was wrong. This wasn’t a tender meeting of the eyes, this was fear. This was a last ditch attempt to reconcile for the past two years. This was goodbye.

Then her lips met his, and everything was right. He kissed her as an apology. She kissed him as a promise. A promise of tomorrow. Every brush of his lips on hers was as good as him swearing on his ma’s grave. “I’ll come back.” He said non-verbally. “I’ll come back to you. I’ll come back to us.”

Bucky broke the kiss first, apologies already spilling from his lips.

“Oh, gosh, doll. ‘m so sorry. I- I shouldn’t have-” He was cut off by another kiss, Y/N’s lips desperately searching for his; and, well, Bucky was a gentleman. Who was he to deny a lady?

Their height difference became cumbersome after a while, and Bucky decided that leaning over to kiss his girl just wouldn’t do. His hands found the back of her thighs, lifting her onto the counter like she weighed nothing at all. Y/N broke the kiss to catch her breath, his actions taking the wind right out of her. Bucky took the opportunity to drag his lips down to her neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at every available inch of skin.

The small whimpers leaving Y/N sounded like absolute heaven to Bucky, and in that moment he understood what people meant when they said his voice moved them to tears. Y/N’s hands tangled in Bucky’s hair, pulling him close to her heated skin. A moan tore from her painted lips as Bucky nipped at a sensitive spot below her jaw. He let out a noise not unlike a growl as he forced himself to stop his actions, resting his forehead on her shoulder instead.

“Why’d you stop?” Y/N panted, tugging lightly on his hair to encourage him.

Bucky groaned, pulling back to look at her. “Peaches, if I don’t stop now, I dunno that I’ll be able to stop at all.”

Y/N noticed how Bucky’s eyes were hazy with lust, a look she knew was reflected in her own eyes.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all it took to break Bucky’s resolve as he crashed his lips to hers yet again. Years of stolen glances and forbidden touches boiled over in a culmination of wet kisses and wandering hands.

Cool flesh met Y/N’s knees, the fabric of Y/N’s dress being pushed slowly aside. Her head tilted back in a gasp, her virgin skin alight with every sensation he provided. With a questioning look and a resounding nod, Bucky had permission to go further.

His heart thudded in his throat, aching to please her and hear those delicious noises again. Bucky’s hands parted her thighs with ease as Y/N was just as eager as he was. The thought reinvigorated Bucky, his hands moving quicker to their goal. A well-placed thumb brushed over the fabric of Y/N’s underwear, applying pressure to that sweet bundle of nerves he’d found in other women over the years.

“Bucky…” She whimpered, hips bucking into his hand. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting in a delicate ‘o’ shape as she moved her hips against his stiff digit. Bucky swore he might’ve passed out if not for the liquid courage in his veins. The woman he loved, even if he had yet to admit it to her, was taking her own pleasure from his hand.

“Fuck, honey. Can I- Please-” He muttered, unsure of what he was even asking for. He was immediately answered with a chorus of “Yes, yes. Please, yes. Of course, just, please.”

Strong hands wrapped her thighs around his waist, anchoring her to his body as he carried her up the stairs of her clubhouse and up to her apartment. His lips never left her neck, his eyes open to see where he was going.

The couple reached her bedroom soon enough, and Y/N was quickly deposited on her bed. Bucky laid over her, moving his head to kiss her lips again rather than her neck. Y/N’s hands wandered, unbuttoning his shirt with deft hands. The man stopped her, placing his hand over hers.

“Doll, are you sure? I don’t- Gosh, I don’t want to do this then leave you-” He was cut off by a sweet kiss. Y/N fell back against her pillows after a moment, her hair spreading in a halo around her. Her smaller hand cupped Bucky’s jaw, her thumb brushing his cheekbone.

“I’m sure, Bucky. Just… let me forget. Let’s live tonight, and maybe we can both die tomorrow.” She smiled softly, staring into his eyes.

Bucky was speechless. She knew he’d be leaving tomorrow, knew she might end up broken hearted in all this mess, and she wanted him anyway. His heart swelled, his pupils dilating with the pure, undying love he had for her. His voice finally seemed to kick in, a slow smile spreading on his face as a single reminiscent sentence left his kiss reddened lips.

“Just for tonight.”

Quick but shaky fingers unbuttoned Y/N’s dress, each half of the fabric being pulled apart slowly. Bucky felt like a kid on Christmas morning, the way every inch of skin was exposed to him like a present being unwrapped. Bucky kissed the inside of her knee as he slid her black kitten heels off her feet, doing the same with her stockings soon after. He wished and prayed for the sight to be burnt into his memory, hoping for her image to keep him company when her body couldn’t.

His lips poured over her skin like syrup on Sunday morning pancakes, lighting Y/N on fire from the outside in.

“Bucky…”

Blue eyes met hazel.

“Yeah, sweets?”

“Faster.”

Not a request. A command. A low groan resounded from somewhere deep in Bucky’s chest and he nodded, crashing his lips to hers in a sloppy dance of tongue and teeth.

Y/N’s dress was discarded and Bucky’s lips kissed down her velvety soft skin. He got a whiff of the arousal that had made a wet spot on Y/N’s baby blue underwear, a full fledged whimper leaving his lips at the sight and smell. His fingers hooked in her waistband, his eyes meeting hers.

“This okay, babydoll?” His deep, lust-driven voice echoed through the air.

“Yes. God, yes. Bucky, please.” She begged, back arching off the bed as her deft fingers undid the clasp of her brassiere. The thin material was tossed aside, Y/N’s breasts revealed in the low light of her bedroom.

Bucky bit hard on his bottom lip.

“How am I s’posed to get to work down here when you’re lookin’ like that up there?” He taunted. Y/N didn’t have a chance to respond before Bucky’s lips sealed around her right nipple. He laved his tongue across the supple pink flesh, letting out a pleased hum when it pebbled beneath his touch. Low whimpers left Y/N’s swollen lips, a hand tangling in his hair as she arched into his touch.

“Bucky, please. ‘m achin’ for you, baby.” Her voice was utterly wrecked, a fact that didn’t escape Bucky. His lips curled into a smirk as he left her nipple with a pop.

“Nuh-uh, sugar. I ain’t done with these pretty tits’a yours yet.” That was seemingly the truth as his lips moved to her other breast, sucking the smooth skin into his mouth. He nipped and licked all over the mound, not letting a single inch of her skin go untouched.

When Y/N’s delicious moans proved too much for Bucky, he pulled away from her breasts. He left soft kisses down her abdomen, sucking gentle bruises on her hip bones and smirking as the skin stained red.

Her mind spun as Bucky pulled her panties down, the blue fabric tickling the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Bucky let out an obscene groan at the sight of her cunt. The glistening coiled hairs covering her mound proved a mouthwatering sight.

“God, baby. Fuckin’ soaked,” was all the warning Bucky gave Y/N before his mouth was on her core. Her resounding gasp and the moan of pleasure that followed had Bucky rutting his hips into her mattress. Determined to taste her sweet release, his tongue worked her over furiously.

His plump lips closed around Y/N’s clit, sucking with a grace that came only with practice. Bucky maneuvered her thighs over his shoulders, anchoring her to his face with a bruising grip on her hips. He ate her cunt like it was his last meal, because to him, it was. The only meal that mattered.

Y/N’s whines and low murmurs of praise met his ears, spurring him on. He moved down an inch, his tongue prodding at her dripping entrance. A cry of pleasure echoed through the apartment, quickly being covered by Y/N’s hand over her lips. Bucky growled, a clear sign of his displeasure. He pulled away from her for hardly a second to speak.

“Lemme hear you, baby. Gimme somethin’ to dream about when I’m over there, sweets.” Then his mouth was back on her, kissing and sucking at her folds. Y/N hesitantly removed her hand, choosing to rake her nails through Bucky’s thick chestnut locks instead. She squirmed in his grip, hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer to her peak. More cries of pleasure left her lips, along with warnings.

“Bucky, I- Fuck, baby. I’m gonna- I’m…” Her words trailed off, her mind far too gone in bliss to focus on something as trivial as words.

“Go on, angel. Mark me as yours.” Bucky pushed a single finger into her warm walls as his lips wrapped around her clit again, and Y/N was flying.

Her vision went white, her blood roaring in her ears and her heart thumping in her throat. A rush of slick covered Bucky’s finger, her syrupy release thick on his hand. Bucky worked Y/N through her high, pulsing his finger slowly before pulling it out. He didn’t miss a beat, sucking the digit into his mouth. Bucky flat out moaned at the taste of her, and Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight. His chin was covered in her slick, his fingers dripping with her essence. His fingers left his mouth with a thigh-clenching pop and he turned to her.

“Think I have a new reason to call you peaches.” He said, voice thick with palpable tension and lust.

“Christ, Bucky, jus’ fuck me already.” Y/N panted, desperate for him.

Bucky smirked, unbuttoning his pants at a torturously slow pace. “What’s the magic word, peaches?” His shoes were toed off, kicked aside.

Y/N licked the inside of her cheek, huffing a laugh at his insufferable smugness. “Now?”

He chuckled, pushing his black slacks down and nodding. “That’ll do, sugar.” He flung his trousers elsewhere, palming himself through his boxers. “Condom?”

Her eyes widened in response. “I- I don’t have one…”

Bucky chuckled, kissing her knee as he knelt down to rifle through his trousers. “I got it, sweets.” He stood up with his wallet in hand, flipping it open and pulling out a square of paper. He looked back to Y/N with questioning eyes.

“You sure about this, baby?”

Y/N gave an eager nod, biting her lip softly. “I’m sure. Please.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alright, doll. Gimme just a second, alright?” Bucky tugged off his boxers, his half hard cock bouncing free.

“Wait-” Y/N started, sitting up in bed. “I- I wanna make you feel good too.” She said softly.

Bucky chuckled, finding her naivety amusing. “You will, doll. Don’t worry about-”

“No, I- I wanna make you feel good with my mouth.” She looked at Bucky with wide eyes.

His own eyes darkened, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You do?”

She nodded.

“Shit, baby. Alright.” Bucky kicked off his boxers, laying down on his back in the middle of the bed. His cock had grown at her sultry words and innocent eyes, bobbing softly against his stomach. Y/N looked confused, unsure of what to do.

“Want me ta teach you?” He asked softly.

She nodded again. “Please.”

Bucky swore under his breath, her eagerness to please him sending shivers down his spine.

“Spit in your hand for me, baby.” Bucky commanded, biting his lip as he watched her follow his orders. “Now wrap your- Oh, fuck.” His hips lurched, jutting into her hand as she took the initiative herself. Y/N’s smaller hand wrapped around his cock and pumped him slowly.

“Like this, Buck?” Y/N questioned.

“Ju-Just like that, doll, fuck.” He whimpered in response.

Y/N looked up at him and knew right then that this was her new favorite thing. Bucky had his bottom lip worked between his teeth, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. His cheeks were stained a pretty pink, his hair mussed from the way she’d pulled it as he worked her through her peak.

“So pretty, Bucky.” She said softly, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his red tip.

Bucky, not having expected the contact, jutted his hips up into her mouth. His tip slid past her lips, grazing across her tongue. The motion elicited a moan from both of them. Bucky’s eyes widened at the sound that spilled from her lips, and the way she didn’t pull away.

“Shit, you like that, doll?” He asked, voice low and raspy with lust.

Y/N only nodded in response, sucking softly on his tip.

A resounding groan was Bucky’s answer, his hands tangling in her hair. “You tap my thigh if I need’ta stop, alright?”

She hummed.

“Good girl.” Bucky started thrusting into Y/N’s mouth, his ass lifting off the bed as his cock impaled her mouth. Y/N moaned softly at the feeling, sending vibrations up his cock.

“Oh, fuck- Do that again, baby.” Bucky begged, his hips stuttering in her mouth.

Y/N obliged, humming around his girthy length. Bucky let out an obscene moan, pulling Y/N off his cock by her hair. She pouted, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“If you kept goin’, I wouldn’t get to fuck you, sweetness.” He said with no shortage of smug confidence on his face.

“I- Oh-” Y/N stuttered over her words, blushing like mad. This only spurred Bucky on, his smirk deepening and voice lowering as he moved closer to her.

“You still do want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?” He whispered, breath hot on her ear.

She whimpered, a high noise that was like music to Bucky’s ears. “Please.” Y/N whispered back.

Bucky groaned, swearing under his breath. She was perfect. “Alright, peaches. Get on your back for me, yeah?”

Y/N quickly obeyed, getting on her back in the middle of the bed. She worked her red bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him, eagerly awaiting whatever came next.

“Spread your legs, honey. Lemme see you.” Bucky said, standing on his knees in front of her.

Again, Y/N obeyed. She spread her thighs apart, letting Bucky see the dripping state of her folds. He sighed at the sight, wrapping a hand around his aching cock and pumping it slowly.

“You want me to fuck you, peaches?”

An eager nod from Y/N, her hair jostling with the quick movement.

“Say it.” He commanded, his thumb swiping the precum from his tip before rolling the condom on.

“I want you to fuck me, Bucky.” Y/N whimpered with wide eyes.

He smirked, pleased with her state of desperation. “Who am I to deny my girl?” Half a second later, Bucky’s lips were on Y/N’s again.

Bucky knew he didn’t have long with her, Y/N knew they were on borrowed time. They both silently decided they had to do this before he left. Had to know what it was like to belong to the other, before they were both lost forever.

Her breath hitched as his cock brushed her hip bone, the hardness of it making her wet cunt throb with need. Y/N broke the kiss to speak, Bucky’s lips travelling to her neck by instinct.

“Bucky, please.” She pleaded, her hips spasming beneath him in search of any kind of friction.

He chuckled, smiling widely against the supple skin of the woman’s neck. “You’re eager, aren’t you, dollface?” Her answering whine was enough to break Bucky’s resolve. “Alright, alright. Bossy.” He teased, kissing her neck before resting his forehead against her collarbone. Bucky’s hand stroked his cock a few times, running the covered shaft through Y/N’s folds.

“You ready, peaches?” He whispered.

“Fuck, yes. Please, Bucky.” Y/N whispered back, voice thick with lust and wanting. Years of pining had led to this moment, and she wanted to remember every second of it.

His lips peppered gentle kisses across her neck as he pushed his tip in.

Y/N’s lips parted in a gasp, her eyebrows furrowing at the sensation. It wasn’t painful, just… odd. She’d never experienced a sensation quite like it. Never been so full before. She didn’t realize it, but her walls were fluttering rapidly around Bucky’s thick cock. Bucky had realized it, though, and it was taking all his willpower to not jack rabbit into her.

“Fuck, baby. Can- Can you take more? ‘m dyin’ here.” His voice was tonal, as if his moans were threatening to break through at any second.

It took a long moment for Y/N’s pleasure-addled mind to recognize that Bucky had asked her a question, but her answer was immediate once she did. “Yes, yes. Please. Bucky, just- Take me.”

Bucky thought he’d died and gone to heaven. The most beautiful woman in the world, beneath him and begging for him to take her. “Yes, ma’am.” He muttered, slowly pushing in the rest of the way.

Every nerve in Y/N’s body was on edge, every neuron firing synapses of every color of the rainbow as Bucky seated himself inside her. Neural pathways formed in her mind as he took her innocence, telling her; ‘Yes. This is what you’re supposed to do. You’re complete.’

“Oh,” was all she could manage. “Oh.”

“Oh? Tha’s it?” Bucky chuckled, trying to relax her because damn she was still squeezing the life out of him.

Y/N huffed a laugh, her hardened nipples brushing Bucky’s chest as she did. “You ain’t started movin’ yet, sugar. We’ll see if you earn more than ‘oh’ soon enough.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her newfound smugness, finding it amusing that she’d changed her tune so quickly seeing as she was begging for him mere moments ago.

“That so, babydoll?” He leaned down, lowering his voice to a near growl. “I’ll earn much more than ‘oh’. And you better give me what I deserve, peaches.” A soft pinch of his teeth on her earlobe was the only warning he gave before he started thrusting.

His hips pulled away from hers a few inches, the most her tight walls would allow, before slamming back in. Bucky made sure to read Y/N’s expression, not wanting to hurt his girl. At least, not the first time. Her face contorted in pleasure, her eyes half-lidded with lust and her lips parted in a silent scream.

“How’s that, honey? This dick treatin’ you right?” He murmured, pride swelling in his chest at the way Y/N couldn’t even respond verbally. She only nodded, her lips parting and closing as if struggling to find the words. Bucky smirked at the sight.

“Aw. Pretty babydoll. Where’s those smart words now, hm? Got you too drunk on my cock, you can’t even speak, ‘s that it?” Bucky cooed in a mocking tone, his ego inflating with every second that passed that Y/N couldn’t answer.

“S-So good,” was what she eventually managed to stutter out, her voice strained from the moans she’d been holding back.

The praise made Bucky’s mind spin, glad he was pleasuring his girl. Low grunts and groans fell from his kiss-reddened lips as he picked up the pace, starting to thrust faster. His large hands hooked under Y/N’s knees, pushing her thighs to her chests and moaning as his cock slipped deeper inside her.

“Fuck, baby. Takin’ me so well. Feels fuckin’ heavenly.” Bucky murmured, thrusting at a steady pace. He rested her ankles on his shoulders and Y/N yelped, her body shaking for a few moments.

“Right- Fuck, Bucky. Right fuckin’ there.” Y/N groaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Yeah? My cock hittin’ your sweet spot, peaches?” Bucky smirked, pressing a kiss to her ankle as he angled his hips for that spot again and again.

She nodded frantically in response, bringing her hands up to cup her breasts. Y/N’s fingers pinched and pulled at her sensitive nipples, the pink nubs pebbling under her touch.

Bucky bit hard on his bottom lip at the sight, concentrating on not blowing his load right then. She was pleasuring herself while he fucked her stupid on his cock. A wet dream come true.

“You gettin’ close, sugar? Want you to cum for me. Want you to soak this dick like you soaked my face.” Bucky gasped his words, the pleasure in his abdomen becoming impossible to ignore.

“Y-Yes. God, yes. Touch me, Bucky, please.” She begged, her back arching and breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts. Bucky eagerly obeyed, wanting nothing more than to see his girl cream on his cock. His right hand rested on her hip, his thumb stretching to brush her clit.

A half dozen more thrusts and Y/N was shouting, her hands fisting in the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground her floating body. Every muscle in her body tensed and every muscle released, a flood of her arousal coating his shaft. She clenched hard around him as her release swept over her in waves, ecstasy soaring through her very being.

He grunted her praises, jack rabbiting into her and using her to reach his own orgasm. Bucky wasn’t sure where her moans ended and his began, only able to hear her sweet noises of pure bliss as he tumbled off the edge. Y/N’s legs slipped from his shoulders, falling around his waist. Bucky soon fell as well, barely able to keep from crushing her by holding himself up on his elbows. He kissed her neck and murmured sweet nothings, pulling away to look at her face.

Bucky’s lips curled into a pleased smile at the sight before him. Y/N’s neck was marked with purples and reds, his doing. Her face was relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss, his doing. Something territorial in Bucky awoke, and he almost regretted wearing the condom. He thought about how pretty she might be some day, full and swollen with his child.

Y/N’s gaze met his as he stared at her lovingly. She searched his blue eyes, finding nothing but adoration and lust there.

“You alright?” She asked softly, her voice croaky. Bucky chuckled at the sound.

“Fuckin’ fantastic, doll. You?”

She hummed. “Same.”

Bucky smiled, kissing her lips gently. Y/N’s hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. He reluctantly broke the kiss after a few moments.

“I gotta pull out now, babydoll.” He murmured, lips brushing hers as he spoke.

She whined in response, eliciting a soft chuckle from Bucky. “I know, girlie. I know. I wanna stay too, believe me. Can’t be havin’ the condom breakin’ though, can we?”

Y/N huffed, admitting defeat. “Fine, fine.” She kissed him briefly. “Go on then.”

Bucky nodded, kissing her as a distraction as he pulled his covered shaft out of her warm depths. He groaned at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to stay buried in her until the sun rose and set and rose again.

“Let me go deal with this, and I’ll be back to clean you up. Alright, princess?” He whispered, peppering kisses over her face and eliciting a giggle from his girl.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on, ya sap.” She rolled onto her stomach, her ass sticking up in the air. Bucky let out a groan, smacking her ass playfully before darting off to the bathroom. He discarded the condom, wiping his cum covered cock up with toilet paper and washing his face and hands before coming back to Y/N.

Bucky curled into bed beside her, laying on his side and brushing his knuckles over her cheek. She had her eyes closed, her breathing steady.

“Bucky?” She asked, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, doll?”

“What time d’you have’ta go tomorrow?”

The question made his breath hitch and his heart ache. He was thankful her eyes were still closed, unsure if he’d start crying if forced to see the heartbreak in her pretty eyes when he told her.

“Sunrise.” He whispered, his voice cracking on the simple word. Her eyes opened.

“You’re gonna come back to me, right? You’re gonna come home?” She whispered back, almost as if she was afraid Hitler would hear her way across the sea and send a squadron out to make sure he didn’t.

“‘Course I will. Can’t leave my best girl here by herself, now can I?” Bucky didn’t believe the words he said. Something in him told him he wouldn’t make it home. But the way her eyes softened and her shoulders relaxed eased the guilt he felt for lying.

“You better. Dunno what I’ll do without my star.” She curled into him, resting her forehead against his chest. Y/N’s small breaths hit his skin and Bucky sighed. She was here for now. He was here for now. They were together for now.

“Well, you don’t have’ta worry about it. ‘Cause I’m comin’ back.” He murmured, squeezing Y/N tight to his chest.

“You promise?” Y/N whispered, her lips ghosting his supple skin.

“I promise, peaches. I promise.”

Tomorrow was uncertain, but tonight was sure. Bucky belonged to Y/N, and Y/N belonged to Bucky. It was truth to them. A fact just like gravity.

Y/N fell asleep soon after. Bucky just held her, running his soft hands over her skin. He wondered how stained and rough his hands would be when he came back. If he came back. Would they be calloused from holding a gun all day? Stained with blood and scars? The thought horrified Bucky. He’d never held a gun in his life. If Bucky Barnes was anything in that moment, he was scared. Truly, and to his core. Terrified. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to sing. To stay in the arms of the girl he loved, to keep her safe.

Keep Y/N safe.

That’s the thought that struck a chord.

If Bucky didn’t fight in this war, she might have to.

That’s the thought that got Bucky Barnes out of bed before sunrise. The thought that got him dressed, got him out the door, and on the ship to England.

Bucky didn’t say goodbye.

->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->

The war ended.

The men came home.

Y/N stood anxiously at the docks everyday, waiting for him.

For brown hair and a bright smile.

It never came.

Blonde hair and blue eyes did, though.

Steve Rogers, he said his name was.

He held two pieces of paper and a chain.

Dog tags.

“No.”

“No, he’s not.”

Steve reached a hand out, showing what else he held.

A picture of her, her name and address on the back.

A death certificate, his name and address on the front.

Y/N’s heart broke.

Her knees hit the wooden dock below her.

Her star was gone.

“He promised.” She said.

“He promised,” she repeated again, clutching to Steve like a lifeline as his arms wrapped around her.

Tears fell on her shoulder.

“I know.” Steve whispered in her ear. “He promised me too.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic recs #bucky barnes x you

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Photo

this is insane. excellent work!!

“Kintsugi” - The art form of mending broken ceramics with gold. By doing so, the flaws become part of the object’s history and design, instead of something that’s rejected and hidden.

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Worst of Luck

Pairing: Samuel Drake x Reader

WC: 1300ish

Warnings: Swearing, cursing, mild injury, cheesy writing, minor violence mention

Summary: There's only one bed because I'm a self indulgent whore.

Filthy. That's what we were. Covered in enough shit, piss, blood, muck, and gunk to scare away the nastiest of pigs. On top of that- no fucking treasure. Damn necklace had been moved. Sam and I were both pissed to say the least. I had it on good authority that the necklace was in that cave. Sam tried to talk me out of it ‘Oh, it's too dangerous, oh, you don't really know if it’s there’. Motherfucker was always too smart for his own good.

I pulled into the parking lot of the skeezy motel we had found in the phonebook. Sam hopped out and I went to park the car. After searching for a parking spot for five minutes, I gave up and parked in the mud. It was a rental that we had definitely lost our deposit on already, so hey, fuck it.

I strolled up to the office of the motel to see Sam walking out with our room keys- no, room key.

“Where's mine?” I ask him. Sam looks at me apologetically and I knew what he was gonna say.

“Of course. Of course there's only one room. At the very least I don't have to sleep next to your hulking ass all night.”

Sam gave me another look.

“Oh, fuck me.”

There was only one bed. A queen bed at that.

I set my go bag down on the floor. Even if the chair in the corner already had questionable stains on it, I didn't want to piss off the motel owners more then I already had by parking on their lawn.

“You gonna shower?” I ask Sam.

“Ladies first.” Sam spoke softly, he knew how much this deal meant to me.

“People with worse injuries first.” I replied. I had seen Sam get cut with that knife. Some stray mercenaries were in that cave with us and Sam had gotten into a rather messy confrontation with one before I stepped in.

“Fine.” Sam started towards the bathroom but turned back towards me. “Thank you.” He said. I knew he meant for more than letting him have the prize share of hot water. I gave him a small nod in return. He went off to shower where I heard various grunts and groans as he cleaned his wounds. What else could he be grunting about in the shower?

After 15 minutes or so he walks out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his waist. I averted my eyes quickly which he, of course, noticed. He didn't say anything, but I could just feel him filing away that information in that massive fucking brain of his.

My shower went quicker than Sam’s. I took less care of my hair. I also had fewer injuries to clean. By the time I stepped out of the shower the hot water was long gone. I wrapped the towel over my breasts and walked into the room. Sam saw me and quickly averted his eyes. He turned away from me, allowing a minimum sense of privacy as I got dressed. I pulled on sweatpants and a large brown Henley. Sam’s Henley, I think. If it ever was his I stole it long ago.

“You can turn around now.” Sam did as he was told. He had put on some sweatpants, very similar to mine, but left his shirt off so I could stitch that wound on his arm. He gave me a small smile and spoke softly.

“Nice shirt.” He took the bottom hem of it between his fingers. I smiled at him, too tired to come up with a witty reply. I just wanted to patch his wounds and get to sleep.

I patted a place on the bed in front of me. Sam brought his first aid kid over to me and set it on the bed. He sat angled half away from me, to give me the best access to his right bicep. I wiped down the wound with an antiseptic cloth as Sam began working on threading the needle. His hands were shaking and after three or four tries he was getting frustrated.

“Stupid.. fucking thing..” he mumbled under his breath.

I set my hand on his. “Let me.”

Sam turned to me and something in his eyes looked different. Brighter. Like a lightbulb clicked on.

“You alright there?” I asked, hand still on his.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm- just dandy.” Sam’s eyes were still locked on mine with that bright intensity to them.

I took the needle from him and threaded it on the first try. Just as I was about to put the needle in he started.

“Wait!” Sam jogged across the room to the mini-bar. He grabbed a rather large bottle of Jack Daniel’s and walked back. “Ok.” He grabbed the lid with his teeth and spit it out. “Ready.”

After he took a few swallows I pushed the needle through his skin. He gave a small yelp but nothing more. Sam was fine after that. Drinking and humming a little diddy. I finished the last stitch and grabbed the bandages. Two layers of cotton and two layers of tape.

“Done already?” Sam’s voice was rough from the sting of the whiskey.

“Finished. Sleep?” I said as Sam pulled a gray tee on.

“Sleep.” Sam stood and walked over to the chair in the corner. He sat down, closed his eyes, and looked to be falling asleep.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Sleeping. You should do the same. Gotta wake up early to chase that lead Sully got us.”

“Why are you in the chair?” Sam popped an eye open at that.

“Why wouldn't I be?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Christ, Sam, I may be a prick but I'm not a monster. Get in bed.” I scoffed at his ridiculousness and laid down. After a second of no movement I rolled over to face him.

He was looking at me with a confused face.

“You sure?”

“Jesus, Sam, it's not like we’re fucking. Share the bed for one night and tomorrow we’ll get another room. We’re fucking adults, dude.” My words sound harsh but he knew it was just how I spoke. Being raised in the treasure hunting life is worse than being raised by sailors- in terms of the evolution of a potty mouth.

Sam chuckled and got into the other side of the bed. He was laid on one edge and me on the other. With plenty of space between us, Sam spoke.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

The next morning the sun shone through the blinds. My eyes fluttered open and all I could see was a very poorly done prison tattoo. Of birds. My asleep brain wasn't processing this so I looked around some more. A stubbled chin above me. One very large arm under my head, the other draped over my side. I shifted my legs slightly to get my bearings. One leg was curled beneath me and the other was laying on a strong thigh. I looked down slightly to my hands. They were clenched tightly around Sam’s gray tee shirt. My brain finally finished waking up and I slowly tried to move away from Sam. His grip on me only tightened. I felt like a child’s doll. With no other choice, I spoke softly into Sam’s neck and patted his chest with my hands.

“Sam, Sam wake up. It's time to wake up.”

I heard shifting above me and then happy sleepy hazel eyes were suddenly staring into mine.

“Mornin, girlie.” Sam made no effort to move. His eyes closed and then suddenly ripped open. Sam yanked his body away from mine and stood up so fast i thought he'd teleported.

“I- I uh- sorry. Shit- I'm sorry.” Sam looked at me with so much sadness in his eyes. Before I could tell him it was fine- that I slept amazingly- he raced into the bathroom.

“Good morning to you too, Sam.”

#Samuel drake x reader #sam drake angst #sam drake smut #sam drake fluff #sam drake x you

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Youngblood

Pairing: High School!Dean Winchester x Reader

WC: 613

Warnings: Sexual assault, not really though, just a creepy teacher, fluff

Summary: Reader's teacher is being creepy. The new kid saves her.

"And what, class, is 83 times the supplement of angle ABC in this situation?" The teacher, Mr. Mouser, walked up and down the rows of seats. I had already written the answer. 1,909.

"Miss Y/L/N, not caring to participate this morning?" I glanced up from my paper to look at Mr. Mouser. His name fit him well. The man looked like a mouse. He had a small nose, beady brown eyes, a pink face, and little to no hair. While he tried to make his voice full, it came out squeaky and small.

"Would you like me to explain, Mr. Mouser?" His eyes were trailing my face and what was below it. The middle aged man was known around school for being a major creep.

"Please." Mr. Mouser smiled a disgusting smile. His yellowed teeth poked out from behind his crusty lips.

I walked up to the chalkboard and began to write.

"First, we have to start with the supplement of angle ABC. Since ABC is a vertical angle we can be assured that it is congruent to angle DBE. Angle DBE is given to us as 157 degrees which means ABC is 157 degrees. The supplemental to a 157 degree angle is 23 degrees. 23 times 83 is 1909." I run out of breath and set the white chalk down. I turn to see Mr. Mouser's eyes low. Where my ass was two seconds ago.

"Very well done, Miss Y/L/N. Very well done, indeed." His voice was as oily as his forehead. I began to walk towards my seat but he was blocking my way.

"Excuse me." I made eye contact with the short man. His eyes were saying what his mouth wasn't. 'If you want to get back to your seat, you're gonna have to squeeze your way through.'

The bastard was really going to make me do this. I started to squeeze by him when a voice behind me spoke up.

"Hey, she said excuse me." The voice was quiet but insistent. I turned to look and it was the new kid. He'd been relatively quiet so far but it was only his first week. He didn't look at me. Only past me. Straight at Mr. Mouser.

I turned back to Mr. Mouser. He looked defeated and moved out of my way. He began talking about something else but I was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the new kid. I sat down and pulled out a piece of paper.

"Thanks new kid

-girl three seats back"

I threw the paper to him. New kid opened it and scribbled something down. When Mr. Mouser turned around he threw it over his left shoulder. It landed on the floor next to my desk. I picked it up before Mr. Mouser could turn back around.

"Thanks new kid Dean

-girl three seats back"

As I fold it back up the note disappears from my hand.

"What have we here? Passing notes, hm?" Mr.

Mouser is standing above me holding the paper. He starts to open it but Dean rips it away - and shoved it in his mouth.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing, young man?" Mr. Mouser is trying to make up for his lack of intimidation in his physique by raising his voice and using curse words. It doesn't work.

"I wath hunwee" Dean speaks through the soggy paper in his mouth.

"Go to the principal's office! Now!" Mr. Mouser points at the door. Dean grabs his bag and starts to walk towards the door. He turns his head and shoots me a wink as he opens the door into the hall.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x you

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Good? Good.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 550

Warnings: Vague parental abuse, panic attack, nightmare

Summary: Spencer helps reader through a panic attack brought on by a nightmare.

My hands shook as my dad yelled at me. Told me how horrible I was. How awful a daughter. Tears brimmed my eyes and my shoulders caved in on themselves. Anger flooded every crevice of my body and brain but I couldn't do anything. Couldn't say anything. My mouth was duct-taped shut and I was locked into a straight jacket. He wouldn't stop yelling.

Yelling.

“Y/N, hey, hey, wake up. It's ok, I'm here. You're safe now, it's ok. I got you.” A small voice was talking to me from above my head somewhere. I opened my eyes and realized the “straight jacket” was actually somebody’s arms. I pushed this person off of me and looked up.

“Sp- Spencer? What- where was I? What's going on?” My eyes were scanning his face and the room around us.

“Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You're in our apartment in Quantico, Virginia. You're twenty-three years old. You are safe.” Spencer was rubbing his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to calm me down. It wasn't working.

My heart sped up and my breathing got shallower. I could feel my hands shaking.

“Spence- I can't- I can't brea-” I sat up in bed and clutched my hands to my chest. I was wheezing now.

“Hey, do you remember what we practiced? What we worked on? Grounding, yeah?” Spencer was sitting in front of me with his hands on my knees. I nodded.

“Good, good. Ok, we’re going to start with sight. Think of three things you can see, alright? Just three things.” Spencer nodded encouragingly.

Three things I can see.

Spencer’s night shirt had a hole near the collar. I had fixed it for him a few weeks back. He must not have washed it on delicate like I told him to.

The ceiling was bumpy. Cheap apartment meant popcorn ceiling.

My fingernail polish was beginning to chip. I painted my nails last weekend. Spencer and I watched all of Sherlock while I painted my nails navy blue.

“Did you get three?” Spencer asked.

I nodded in response. My breathing was still erratic.

“Good. Two things you can hear next. You can do it.” Spencer’s hands were still on my knees. Patiently waiting out the storm.

Two things I can hear.

My heartbeat is clouding every sound in the room. So loud. So, so loud. Ba boom. Ba boom. Ba boom. Everything else is small compared to the explosion of every heartbeat.

Faintly through the noise- Spencer’s breathing. In and out. He always makes a show of how he's breathing when I have an episode. In and out. In and out.

“You hear my breathing?” Spence was trying so hard to calm me down. It wasn't working.

“No. My- my heart. Too loud. Too fuck- too fucking loud.” My cheeks felt cold. When had I started crying?

“That's ok.” Spencer took my hands in his and pressed them against his chest. Right over his heart. “Feel mine. Try to match my breathing, Y/N.”

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

My breathing synced with his. My heartbeat slowly faded away from my ears.

I made eye contact with Spencer.

“Good?” His eyes searched mine for any sign of injury. Physical or otherwise.

“Good.”

#spender reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you

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when-i-was-your-angel · 3 years

Text

Sketching Us

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sketch Artist!Reader

WC: 1500ish

Warnings: None really, standard murder talk, nothing too graphic, creepy workplace men? other than that just fluff

A/N: Might make this a series if there's serious demand. Part two is already done so.. let me know what you think?

“He was mysterious.” The middle aged woman sitting in front of me said. She had witnessed a robbery and was trying, and failing, to give an accurate description of the man she saw.

“Ma'am. I need a physical description. What did he look like?” My tone may have been a little too harsh but it was 8 AM and I was only halfway through my coffee when this woman showed up at my desk.

“Oh, I'm not sure. He was white, or maybe Hispanic, or maybe a light skinned black man. Wait, maybe Indian? I'm not sure but he was definitely somewhere between 15 and 45. Does that help?” She was so bad at this. Maybe I'm biased, since I've been doing this for going on 8 years, but God, she was bad at this.

“Sure. Was he skinny? Or heavier?” I was staring at my sketch. An empty page.

“I wouldn't say he was fat but he wasn't skinny.”

Oh for the love of- breathe in, breathe out.

“Ma'am, if you had to say, was he heavier or skinnier than the average person?” I looked at her and I just knew she hadn't gotten a good look at him. I'm no cop but working this job for nearly a decade makes you good at reading people.

“Somewhere in-between.”

“Jesus, ok. Ma'am, excuse me, please.” I stood up and began walking towards the Captain’s office. I finished the rest of my coffee and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

I opened the door and walked in. I tossed my empty cup in the trash can near his door.

“Yes, Y/L/N, what is it?”

“Sir, I can't get an accurate profile out of this woman. It is my belief that she did not actually get a good look at him. I'd like permission to dismiss her.”

“You know you're not under my control, Y/N. You were hired by the Feds, not by me. You don't have to ask permission.” Captain Brown didn't look up from his paper work.

“I know that, sir, I just-”

“Clear it with Sergeant Anderson. He is the lead on this case, not me.” God, what a prick.

“Yes, sir.” I walked out of his office and across the bullpen to Anderson’s desk.

“Serge, I can't get a profile out of her. Sorry, but I can't be of any help to you. “

The Serge sat back in his chair and sighed. His hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure she was high when we picked her up. Didn't think you'd get much out of her. What'd she tell you?” His voice was tired. He had a wife and three kids at home. That'd make anyone exhausted.

“That the suspect was white, Indian, Hispanic, or black. From the age of 15 to 45. Neither heavy set or skinny.” I sat on the edge of his desk. Dress code required fancy shoes for any personnel not working in the field and my feet were killing me.

“So anyone in Los Angeles. Wow. Clears things up doesn't it?” He moved his head to look up at me and winced.

“Yeah. So permission to dismiss her?”

“Go ahead.” He started to turn back to his work but when I didn't get up he stopped.

“Something else?”

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“How did you-” After a glare from me he sighed.

“Since yesterday morning. But I'm fine-”

“No, you're not. You keep wincing every time you move your head. You've been at your desk too long, Serge. Go home. Get some sY/Np.” Anderson rubbed at his dark eyes.

“You're probably right.”

“I am right. Go home.” I stood up and stretched my arms a little. “Give my love to Sharon and the kids.”

He started to pack up his things. “Will do. See you tomorrow Y/N.”

I gave him a smile and started back to my desk. Shit. Forgot about the lady. I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Ma'am, thank you for your help. You can go. Have a nice day.” She smiled up at me and left. Nice lady, even if she was shit at descriptions.

I was filing some paperwork for my last case when my desk phone rang.

“Hello?” I hadn't spoken in a while and my voice cracked. Embarrassing.

“Hello? Is this Y/N Y/L/N, sketch artist?” A masculine voice sounded through the receiver.

“This is she. How can I help you?”

“This is supervisory special agent Aaron Hotchner with the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI. We’re in Los Angeles at the moment and the local police have said you're their resident sketch artist. Are you free?” Holy shit- I can't believe they want ME. There's a thousand sketch artists in California and they chose me.

“Uh- right now?”

Silence on the other end for a beat.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N, time is of the essence.” Mr. Hotchner replied.

“Right. Of course, yes! I'm available right now.”

“Great. Meet me at 3127 South Patel street in 20 minutes.” Click- he hung up.

I looked at my wrist-watch. 20 minutes to get to Patel street. I could make it. If I ran. I looked down at my feet.

“Fuck you, LAPD dress code.” I muttered under my breath. I pulled some running shoes out of my bad and slipped them on. This counted as field work.

I didn't bother to tell the Captain where I was going as I slipped out the side door and started jogging.

15 minutes later I arrived at 3127 Patel street. At least, I assumed that's where I was. I saw Patel street and jogged until I saw flashing lights. There were several black SUVs outside as well.

I began walking up the driveway when a beat cop stopped me just in front of the crime scene tape.

“Miss, this is a crime scene. No journalists.” He started to walk me away and I yanked out of his grip.

“I'm not a journalist, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm a sketch artist.” I huffed. “And don't touch me.” I had seen this particular cop, Mark, around before. He always stared at the receptionist’s tits.

“Can I see some ID?” Mark said.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Another voice sounded from behind the sleazebag in front of me. A tall and muscular man walked up to me.

“That's me.” I stated, showing him my ID.

“She's with us.” The man said as he held up the yellow crime scene tape. I gave Mark a dirty look and ducked under.

Once I was standing straight the man offered his hand to me.

“Derek Morgan. FBI. Nice to meet you.” He gave me a charming smile.

“Y/N. But we kind of went over that already.” I smiled back and he chuckled.

“Well, Y/N, rest of the team is inside. I have to warn you, it's a bit messy in there.” His face went somber and I felt my smile drop too.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“Murder victim. Throat cut. She's in another room but there's bloody footprints everywhere. You gonna be okay with that?” Derek stood next to me looking at the house. He seemed to be looking through the walls to the still body inside.

“I’ll manage.”

“Good.” Derek started walking to the front door. He turned to look at me before opening it.

“If you need to get some air at any point you do so, okay?” He directed kindly.

I nodded and he opened the door. He was right. Bloody footprints everywhere. I could hear chatter from the room ahead and kept following Derek.

“Y/N Y/L/N, this is the team. You spoke on the phone with Hotch.” Derek pointed to a middle aged man studying a notebook with a stoic expression.

“Nice to meet you in person. Glad you could make it so quickly.” Hotch shook my hand and quickly returned to his notes.

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N, I'm Emily Prentiss.” A woman, older than me but younger than Hotch, shook my hand. She had piercing eyes and a soft smile.

“Call me Y/N, please. Pleasure to meet you.” I replied. She smiled softly.

“Hey, kid! Where are you? The sketch artist is here!” Derek called, looking around.

“She is? Great! We need to get this image released and quick-” I turned to see where the voice was coming from and saw a young man come around a corner.

He was my age. 25 or so. He was tall and skinny. Brown hair fell messily on his head.

I stopped staring and realized that he had stopped talking. He was just looking at me. Like I was to him.

“Uh- Spencer. My name. Spencer Reid. Technically, it's Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.”

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

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